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Macarons, donuts, and fine shortcakes. Runes splayed out in complex circuits build networks of intricate magical information that trail up a night stand and replicate whatever sweet delicacy the heart desired. One of many such a pattern that created the lone house that stood at the center of the Triolcerier Woods.
A massive mansion of aged, old smokey red wood engraved with arcane patterns and formulas that interconnected the many information highways within the house. Two wyverns guarded the outside, patiently sniffing around in the autumn air.
Morning poured in from the window, forcing Abigail up. She slowly stretched, then reached over to her bedside runes and whispered. “Coffee and wheat cakes, with ummm-“ she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, “honey.” She finished her thought after a hefty yawn.
After a flash and a puff of smoke Abigail’s breakfast appeared in front of her. A plate of steaming wheat cakes drenched with honey and fresh butter rich with the scent of cloves and cinnamon, her entree was accompanied by a small cup of coffee with a small pitcher of cream and a pyramid of cubed sugar.
Abigail smiled softly at the meal and began her morning routine. A stack of three cakes always greeted her in the morning but they never stopped providing her joy. A simple routine, always the same and never challenged.
She slowly sliced the three cakes piece by piece, taking great care to mop up honey and butter between each bite. She slowly chewed as the almost sickeningly sweet taste cloyed away at her taste buds.
She reached her hand upward and snapped her fingers, this signal engaging the runes that traveled below her bed and soon the next step of her morning would begin. A suit of awakened armor guided and programmed by Abigail’s runes would arrive and take her dirty plate and deliver her today’s morning reading.
As the knight’s feet clinked and clonked away Abigail lifted a stuffed bear from the back of her bed and rested it in her lap to prop her arms up as she read. Today’s sampling of literature was a romance novel of the scandalous sort Abigail would enjoy between major projects. On days where she was working she would use this time to catch up on her arcane studies but on a lazy Lanorday like this, smutty romance was what called to her.
As Abigail read she prepared her coffee by pouring an unseemly amount of cream and a fistful of sugar cubes into the drink before sipping and shuddering in appreciation for her own handy work.
After finishing the chapter she was on she leaned back into her stuffed animals and pillows and sighed in a deep heady satisfaction.
This was the sweet life. Mostly.
Abigail finished her coffee, got dressed in her usual dress, boots and hat and took one final look in the mirror to ensure everything was in its proper place. She took a minute to play with how her brown curls sat and took a finger and traced along her freckles till she was satisfied that she looked good enough to start the day. Abigail knew nobody would see her, it had been almost a year since she had a visitor but her master taught her “Beauty is upkeep,” and Abigail was fighting to make sure she lived by those words.
Abigail began taking her walk around her manor. Checking on her plants, monitoring her projects in her lab, skimming through her library for what book she would read next. The tour ended with her checking the furnace to ensure her alchemical fire was still burning. Much like any other day she was met by a beautiful crimson flame surrounded by illuminated blue runes.
Abigail returned to the large staircase in front of the main doors and found a seat for herself on a step. She began going through her mental checklist as she adjusted the large hat on her head, ensuring each task that was needed before she returned to her work was completed to her satisfaction.
Had she fed the wyverns? Why yes of course, they were fed yesterday and with their four stomachs they wouldn’t need to be fed again till Aborday. Had she recategorized the books? Of course she did! It’s only natural for a witch of her status to keep her stock well maintained.
Abigail sighed, satisfied with her self report. She stood to return to her room for her afternoon tea and nap but before she could, she suddenly found herself pausing for a moment.
Witches had naturally more sensitive senses, sharper ears from years of listening carefully to precisely tuned chants, eyes burdened with seeing the ley lines of energy, palettes refined to a fault. That’s why it shocked Abigail to smell something out of the ordinary.
Something thickly pungent, salty, earthy and altogether unpleasant forced itself upon Abigail in a way she hadn’t prepared for. She nearly gagged from how unexpected it was.
The fuck is that?
Abigail stood at attention and whipped her head around looking for the source of the smell. She knew it was a good distance away yet her panic response wouldn’t let her rest without seeing the cause. Swiftly however the smell got more and more intense as Abigail’s eyes darted around the room looking for answers before-
BANG!
The front entrance blew apart, sending shards of wood and metal flying through the room. A massive object smashed into the room like a wrecking ball, tearing the floorboards asunder from its force. When the debris and smoke cleared Abigail looked down to identify what just blasted into her home only to see one of her two wyverns laying at her feet.
The beast held unnaturally still, and Abigail’s ears rang with the sounds of falling rubble and creaking wood as she looked for any signs of life from the wyvern. She listened as closely as she could muster but struggled to identify any breathing. Instead, in the absence of breath Abigail identified another noise.
It was a noise that was hard to define but could be best described as a sloshing coming from within the wyvern. The witch lifted one foot cautiously in an attempt to approach and investigate the noise but before she could draw any closer she was interrupted.
SHINK
A blade of obsidian black erupted from the wyverns stomach, sending a set of scales flying in the process. The scales hit the floor with hardy clanks like shards of glass causing Abigail to jump and plant her foot behind her. The red adamantite scales shined a fine chromatic light in the early day light.
Soon the blade swiftly carved an opening from the monster’s neck to near the base of its tail. As the weapon dragged itself throughout the corpse it splattered purple stains across the wooden walls and fine ornate carpet of the entrance room as the wyvern’s blood sprayed across the scene.
Abigail clutched her chest trying to calm her racing heart watching the gruesome display. The sword returned quickly into the cavity of the beast and after a beat of silence the wyverns body fell open like torn curtains to reveal the perpetrator.
A figure clad in smokey black metal armor, their face was covered by a helmet but Abigail could quickly identify the figure was a good bit taller than her, which wasn’t helped by the armor's raised heel boots. In one hand they wielded a basket handled sword with a black blade and complex gold patterns, and in the other a white parrying knife with runes carved into it with some kind of pink material. On one shoulder was a pauldron with the design of a lion roaring.
The King of Astrud’s personal guard!? What would one of his highest ranking knights want with me?
Abigail’s mind raced in a feverish panic. From behind the visor of the armor a heavy breath poured into the cold air of the room. The knight regained their composure, lifting themselves to stand in a relaxed off guard position.
“Oi, you’re Abigail the Witch Alchemist, right?” The knight’s voice was light and raspy in a way that Abigail struggled to identify with a certain gender. Their accent was thick, they certainly weren’t born and raised in Astrud with an accent like that, so where were they from and why were they working for the king? Better yet, how did they know Abigail?
“A-and if I am?” Abigail was kicking herself for the stutter but continued forward in an attempt to feign confidence.
The knight stepped out of the wyvern’s carcass with loud metallic steps. Purple blood poured off their body with each step. “Then I’d say I’ve finally found what I’ve been lookin’ for, so save me the trouble yeah, and don’t make this a fight.” The knight whipped their sword towards the floor to shake the blood off their blade, the gesture punctuating their final words.
“You think you can make me go anywhere? Don’t make me laugh! An archmage like me is no playing matter and you’ve come here alone.” Abigail suddenly felt a wave of confidence wash over her. Surely this knight didn’t have the power to take her in if they were stooping to such weak intimidation tactics.
Abigail raised her hands and summoned forth her flying broom and spell grimoire. Both soared from different halls of the house before they flew to each of her open hands.
“Leave now and I won’t make an enemy of Astrud. I may even feel generous enough to spare your life,” Abigail taunted.
“Y’know it’s wee bit cute how shite you are at being intimidating, you know that?” Abigail didn't need to see their face to hear the smile behind those words.
“S-shut up!” Abigail’s voice cracked as she pulled her hat down to hide her blush.
The witch released her grip on the broom. Before it could fall to the ground it began to levitate. Using her newly freed hand Abigail raised her hand and started to chant. Her book in response began to glow and wildly flip through pages before landing on one with shining green text.
“Overlapping lines, roots in all burrows, Grand Yggdra!”
A flash of bright green light exploded out underneath the knight and from beneath the floorboards tangling vines and roots of trees shot out. They quickly entangled their target with shrubbery and bark. The green light from the book began to fade.
A mocking whistle escapes the knight's lips. “These vines are pretty nasty love, would probably slow down the average bloke,” the knight's arms escaped the floral imprisonment with a mighty crunch. “Good thing I’m no average bloke!”
“Get them!” Abigail shouted, and a hoard of animated armors crawled from every corner of the house and began throwing themselves at the shadowy figure. The dark knight swiftly began despatching the silver soldiers with swift cuts of their blade. The room was filled with the sounds of metal shredding metal as the knight continued their rampage. Shards and streaks of metal spilled out from the crowd as the knight made swift work of their attackers.
Abigail jumped onto her broom and forced a hand forward beginning another incantation. Her grimoire swiftly flipped pages before landing on one and igniting a bright white light.
“Overwhelming forces beyond thy gate, allow the lines between to guide you here in this moment, Shepra Behom!”
As the final words escaped her lips a black gash in the world opened behind the knight and from it a nine foot tall Ursha class Chimera stepped out. It was colossal standing next to the person, scales running up one arm with heavy fur on the other, a mass of sharp claws and teeth of the most fearsome predators. As it stepped out of its portal it dragged its heavy tail along, the stinger at its end scraping along the wood finish of the floor.
The knight lifted their sword with a loud scrape and bright sparks as they finished what was left of the last suit of armor and turned to stare down the beast. Clearly the knight recognized the danger of a creature like this so they quickly refocused their attention.
Abigail took the chance given to her by splitting the knight's attention, she jumped and stood on her broom. She quickly clicked her heel against the broom underneath her feet and the witch bolted out of the room and down the hallway. The knight turned their head clearly aware of Abigail’s escape attempt but before they could act in response the chimera lunged at them.
The witch could hear the sounds of clashing steel and roars echoing throughout the halls but that didn’t matter now, what mattered now was ensuring either victory or survival. If she could only make it to her library Abigail would be able to use multiple books for a larger incantation, maybe some kind of advanced summon spell would do it? As she flew through the mansion she dragged her fingers along runes on the wall activating the house's defense system. Soon every hallway she passed would twist and contort into a maze of dead ends and misleading paths in the aim of distracting the knight.
She finally arrived at the library, firmly slamming the doors behind her shut before running to the table at its center. She knew time wasn’t on her side, with her sharp hearing she could identify that the fighting had stopped, either meaning the Chimera had won and all this worry was going to be very funny in a few minutes or that she had around twenty minutes to prepare something as the knight began to give chase. She turned to look at her study and began considering solutions, but before she could form any kind of strategy the doors of the room blasted open.
On the other side of the door was the knight with the chimera’s corpse slung over their shoulder, impaled on their sword. “Thought you could get rid of me that easy?” The knight chuckled slightly out of breath.
“How did you get her so fast!” Abigail snapped in her frustration.
The knight shifted the corpse to have a better hold on it before they spoke. “Ah well see, I killed the chimera and from there I knew you were very magic like, yeah? So I knew that following you would be a pretty daft move so I decided I would just tear through walls till I found ye here! Pretty lucky if I do say so myself.”
“Well isn’t that just fantastic,” Abigail scowled.
“It’s pretty grand if you ask me!” The knight's annoyingly incessant smile could be heard through their helmet.
Abigail was done with words she rose to the highest point of the study using her broom. With a flick of her wrist the pages of her grimoire flew once again and she called forward “èpipla forma!” The shelves within the room along with the loose chairs and tables began flying towards the knight.
The knight in turn used the corpse as a makeshift shield and blocked the barrage as chipped wood and flying glass began tearing the beast’s remains to shreds. After all the furniture was exhausted the knight slammed the bloody pulpy mess to the polished stone floors, pulling their sword from the body with a loud quelch.
Abigail knew her chance was now. The knight was exhausted so before they could perform a counter attack it was time for her to use her strongest spell.
“Vrontés Kai Est-“ Abigail was interrupted before she could finish the final words of her incantation by a blinding streak of black force blasting the book out of her hand. Looking behind her she saw the knight’s blade pierced through the book's cover, nailing it to the wall. Abigail’s eyes widened in horror.
How the hell could they have thrown it that fast?!
As soon as the thought entered Abigail’s head she turned her focus back in front of her. The witch’s vision was completely subsumed by the knights' dominating presence.
They leaped thirty feet in the air!?
The thought was so unbelievable that it forced Abigail to pause a moment. A moment was all the knight needed to release a powerful roundhouse kick, sending Abigail crashing into the floorboards causing a large puff of smoke to fill the room. As the knight landed they turned their head to see the smoke clear to reveal the witch laying in a large pillow surrounded by destroyed flooring and a broken pillar.
Abigail prepared the runes for an emergency fall softening spell on the back of most of her clothes, but she never would have imagined she would’ve been pressed into using it by a non spellcaster. Pulling herself to her feet she knew now was do or die. If she would make it out there was no more room for hesitation. Abigail grabbed the edge of her sleeve and pulled till the fabric ripped. Her pale arm was covered with black and gold tattooed runes, one of her final two fail safes had to be used. She raised her hands and began the task of a complex two hand incantation.
“That which begins must be born from the flames that birthed all within our universe,”
The runes on the witch's arm shined such a brilliant crimson, the room was bathed in the light of it. The knight stood still not attempting to interrupt the casting. Flames started circling Abigail in a double helix, forming a flaming sphere around her. Her form was now bathed in brilliant autumnal hues as the orange and yellow flames licked across her body.
“Bloody hell! Are you crazy woman?! If you fire that in here it’s a hell of a lot more than me that’ll be burnt to ash!” The knight's tone portrayed a true concern, though without seeing their face Abigail couldn’t decipher if it came from a place of fear.
Attempting to use her worldly possessions as leverage wouldn’t be enough to stop her. This person had earned an approach with no quarter.
“That which returns all to its ashen white birthplace and that which will return to its true home in starfire. Overlap, collapse, shine, blaze, depart, return, end and begin.” Abigail continued her incantation. The flames wrapped themselves around her arm and gathered at the end of her fingers as she took aim at the dark figure.
Go ahead, keep standing still. Makes you an easier target for this.
The knight stood at attention “Seriously mate it’s just not worth-“ before they could finish the sentiment they were cut off.
“FOTIA GENESIS!”
A jet stream of blue and red flames fired from Abigail’s hands forming a massive beam of pure flame that quickly blasted toward the knight. The knight took immediate action, the runes on the sword that was left in the wall glowed and in an instant the blade flew back into their hand. The knight turned and lifted their black sword to pierce the center of the blast causing the geyser to split around them.
This protection didn’t last long as the tip of their sword began to burn a bright orange before beginning to melt into drops of molten metal from the extreme heat. The pressure from the blast forced the cavalier to plant their feet hard enough to shatter the floorboard underneath them as they were slowly pushed backwards.
Why the hell weren’t they moving? Did they have a death wish or something!?
“Burst, open, and MIX!” With Abigail’s additional instructions the beam nearly doubled in size instantly. The pressure of the inferno shattered the knight’s blade into a rain of black shards that clinked against their armor.
The knight brought their arms to their chest in an act of self preservation. The blast finally connected and as it did one final explosion of warm light filled the room as the tail end of the beam made itself known.
The room filled with smoke as the only thing left where the knight stood was the smoldering floorboard. As white ash and the smell of fire filled the room Abigail stood unsteady, listening for any sign of life, but try as she may she couldn’t. Smoke rose and soon covered the windows of the study bathing Abigail in a momentary shade.
Had she just killed an elite officer of the king?
Abigail looked at her books and the rest of the study - they were unharmed. The collection of her books along with those of her teacher. A peace of mind was given to her in the thought that this was only a temporary blip of unsettling conflict. That with time she’d have new wyverns, fix the entrance, and forget this ever happened. The thought made her smile for a moment.
There was nobody in this world that could outsmart a witch of her caliber.
Abigail closed her eyes and breathed in a satisfied sigh. Her senses where extra focused at the moment so she tasted the rooms air on her tongue, it was smokey and woody in flavor, she wish she could savor it longer but then-
The smell of salt?
A small creak of wood was the only warning Abigail was given that her trust was ill placed.
The witch whipped her head around to see the knight jumping at her from the fog. The armor they wore was falling apart revealing dark skin underneath its cracked and melted edges. The helmet's visor was smashed open but in the darkness of the smoke’s shadow Abigail couldn’t identify the attacker's face.
How did they survive an attack of that magnitude? They must have used the smoke to cover their approach but even so they must have had legendary skills in stealth to get past Abigail’s other senses.
Abigail pushed down the thought, she still had one ace up her sleeve and if she was going to win she’d have to play it perfectly. Her other arm contained the runes for a armorment spell that was set to go off automatically in times of peril. All she had to do was wait for the opening given by her armor, after that she would recall her grimoire and counter attack.
The knight reached there arm back, their hand had their parrying knife held in a reverse grip, and with the precision that only comes from being a trained killer they went for a strike to the chest.
The knife flashed like lightning through the air before slamming to a stop mere inches from Abigail’s chest as it was met with resistance. The witch’s arm shined blue through her sleeve, her shield spell had worked perfectly! She steeled herself for a counter attack but before she could her thoughts were silenced by a sound she wasn’t expecting.
A mix of hisses and whistles filled her ears from below.
She looked down to see the knife's runes shining as it began tearing through the invisible barrier. The shield spell burned and smoked in rich polychromatic shades around the knife.
The knight leveraged the knife with such force as to rip the spell apart like wrapping paper, leaving the energy used for its casting as nothing more than sparkles and smoke in the air. The force of this ripping of Abigail’s armor cleared the smoke around them and allowed the light to shine back in through the library’s windows.
The hole in the knight’s visor was finally illuminated enough to see one burning red eye through the crack. Before Abigail could react the knight reeled their fist back, Abigail closed her eyes and braced for impact and then-
There was darkness…
The Sigferd Mage Academy had always made Abigail feel alone. The massive campus housed only 30-50 students at a time leaving the lonely mage to wander dark and empty hallways by herself, her only company being the scrying orbs used to keep an eye on students and the animated armors that worked as staff.
She’d walk to the mess hall and be served the same meal every day, dry meat and bread. She’d wear the same boy’s uniform she hated. She’d sleep in a grey and beige bed she hated. It made her question what she was doing. She had read books about the splendor and wonder of magic only to find an endless mess of repeating uninteresting days.
That was until she met her master. The master was a kind old witch by the name of Antoinette who came to the school for a lecture on alchemical balances but Abigail was enamored. Abigail followed the witch after praying to find the joy she was looking for. For the joy that would bring her life meaning.
When she found the witch, she was in her mansion at the heart of the woods.
“I want to learn to live like you,” Abigail said.
“Living like me is no simple matter, to acquire tastes as fine as a witch requires a life of many hardships,” Antoinette responded.
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes!” Abigail beamed.
“I appreciate your spirit young lad but witchcraft is an art that I can only teach another woman,” the witch sighed.
“And if I said I was a woman…” Abigail suddenly felt rather sheepish at her own confession. This was something she felt she could never tell anyone at the academy.
The witch however smiled kindly in response.
She missed that smile. Ever since Antoinette passed, Abigail had lived at her manor alone. The walls are far less drab than that of the academy, but without the laughs of a life shared they were just as hollow.
A prison of self fulfilling isolation was all that Abigail knew. She left home for an academy to be alone in, and now she left that academy for a mansion to be alone in. She was tired of being alone, but she would never admit it.
Abigail opened her eyes to see a starry sky. Her nose was filled with the smells of smoke, salt, and spice. She turned her head over to see a person sitting at a fire with a cauldron simmering.
The person was shirtless and had a rich sepia brown tone to their skin. They had a wild fluffy mane of platinum blond blonde hair that just reached past their shoulders. Poking out through the hair where two pointed ears with platinum fur at their tips. This person was an elf. Looking down Abigail saw the long tail with a tuft at the end, and with that there was no doubt that she was looking at an elf.
Abigail could feel a feverish heat washing over her face as she began slowly waking up - it was no doubt mana sickness. Using her grimoire took nothing out of her but she had dramatically over exerted herself with the use of her two arcane tattoos within such a short time from one another.
As she started shifting to try and lift herself up, the person's ear flicked and they turned to look at Abigail. They had thick white eyelashes and dark red eyes. And in that moment it clicked who Abigail was looking at.
The knight.
“Look who finally woke up!” The knight smiled over their shoulder with such earnestness that it took Abigail a touch off guard.
“W-where in the hells am I?” As Abigail tried to stand she realized her hands were bound together in some form of metal casing. Anti-magic cuffs, she had read about these in school but never expected to see them in her life due to how difficult they were to produce.
“And what in the hells are these?” Abigail added as she attempted to stand to no avail. Her feet were also bound in dark steel.
“My camp and anti-magic cuffs. Any other questions, or do you wanna invoke the three hells one more time for good luck?” The knight answered in a nonchalant tone.
“Oh I’ve got dozens!” Abigail hissed through gritted teeth. She was humiliated, unable to stand in front of this smug prick, and worst of all a little cold from the autumn night air. Carpets and rugs lay underneath Abigail but otherwise left little in terms of warmth. Abigail did her best to rise but ultimately had to settle on a kind of kneel for the time being.
The knight stood and brought their stool over to sit closer to Abigail. As they did, Abigail saw the rest of their body. Two scars that laid parallel to the knight's pecs, and thighs thick and muscular enough to stretch against the fabric of their trousers. Their body was covered with many smaller scars as well, though the most notable one was a small scar that split the knight's lip at its corner. Abigail hated how she found this person so attractive.
Their thick traveler boots clicked until the found their seat again in front of Abigail. “Go ahead love, I’m an open book.” The knight stayed calm as they leaned their head on one hand.
“Who are you and what does the king want with me?” Abigail figured it was best to start with the pressing questions.
“I’m Salacia Bain the Third, but most people call me Sal for short. I’m the thaumaturge knight of the elite court guard. You can consider me a sorta collector of esoterica for the king.” The knight shifted in their seat. Their eyes shined boldly with the light of the campfire, and the richness of their bloody hues was almost hard for Abigail to pull her gaze away from.
“I was actually close friends with Antoinette. I had a relic with enchantments provided by her, but they went out five years ago.” Sal pulled their glance downward. Neither they nor Abigail needed an explanation on what that meant.
It was only a beat before Sal managed to pull their normal, carefree expression back on. “So the king sent me out to grab her things since these woods are on the border between us and Groromesh.” Sal looked up to gauge a reaction only to be met by Abigail’s clearly confused expression.
“Oh sorry, you don’t know. We’re in the middle of a rather nasty land dispute with them that started over some ancient bloodline shite. Anyway-” Sal waved their hand in front of their face as if to swat away the thought.
“The king wanted me to clear out the old manor for anything usable but I discovered you had been living there instead. After I reported back, the king had told me to kill you,” Sal shrugged as they finished the thought.
“So why don’t you?” Abigail felt a sudden bitter defensiveness bubble up within her hearing the king’s order laid out so plainly.
“Didn’t much feel like killin’ a stranger I s’pose. So instead I decided my own mission and his majesty was gracious enough to let me execute on it.” They said the last part with an irreverent tone that portrayed their dissatisfaction with their king.
“And what plan was that?” Abigail questioned.
“Well first I did some diggin’ and found out about you from some records at the local mage academy. From there I decided to force you to accept a non-partisan deal via rune inscription,” as the knight explained, they looked back over to their stew as it began to lightly simmer. They stood and stirred its contents with a ladle. Abigail looked their muscular form up and down before shyly looking away, feeling a heat rise in her.
Sal took a sip of their soup and nodded in satisfaction, a quick wiggle of their tail showing more excitement than the rest of their body, before taking the cauldron out of the fire to cool before eating. “The king has a set of sigils that make it so you can’t act against the kingdom's best interests, I was hoping to have a simple chat with you, mark ye up and be on my merry way but you unfortunately gave me a hell of a fight back there.” Sal chuckled as they said the last bit.
“You wrecked my house and destroyed my grimoire,” Abigail was clearly irritated by Sal’s tone.
“I think you’ll find the entrance was your wyvern’s fault after eatin’ me! Also I only hit the cover of you grimoire, I was tryin’ to be gentle! Promise!” Sal refuted.
Abigail paused for a moment at the words.
Trying to be gentle?
“Wait in the library…” Abigail paused for a moment to consider her hypothesis before continuing, “did you take my pyro spell head-on so I wouldn’t burn any of my books?”
“Well yeah that was the idea love, the collection in there was so well maintained I would hate to see the whole lot burned over a misunderstandin’.” Sal’s ears flushed as they looked away from Abigail.
The witch sat there almost too stunned to speak. Sal would really risk their life like that for some books? “Why?” That was the only word Abigail could force out through the confusion.
“I dunno, seemed like they were important to you I s’pose.” It was such simple reasoning yet Abigail remained stunned by the unabashed act of generosity.
“Well you didn’t have to…” Abigail couldn’t force any form of gratitude out while still being so frustrated with their restraints.
“But I wanted to,” Sal answered before adding “shame it cost me my armor and sword, that’ll be a right pain in the arse to replace.”
Sal took to pouring themself stew from the cauldron into a hefty wooden mug before returning to the conversation. “So there you have it, my story up to now,” Sal returned to their seat before forcing a spoonful of the reddish brown food into their mouth. Their ears and tail lightly wiggled from the sheer enjoyment of the flavors on their tongue.
Abigail looked down at the stranger’s chest again, it was only a moment before Sal saw the pointed staring and a grin snuck across their lips. Abigail noticed too late and forced her eyes off to the side.
“Ummmm, I have another question,” it was so stupid she was feeling this embarrassed but Abigail did sincerely have to ask this sooner or later.
“Yes, love,” Sal answered in an almost whisper, flirtatiously playing with Abigail’s clear embarrassment.
“A-are you… a man or a woman?” Abigail had actually been wondering about this for a while now but was too busy working through anger and distrust to even worry about the slight fascination she had with this stranger's body.
Sal smiled proudly “I’m Sal, simple as. Ah, I remember bein’ fifty and believin’ in gender binaries…” the answer was so confident that it only served to fluster Abigail even more but also-
“50!?” Abigail barked.
“Oh sorry ‘bout that, I’m truly awful at round-ear ages, you're clearly…” they paused to consider their options and leaned forward, squinting their eyes “70?”
“I wasn’t offended that it was too young! I was offended that it was so old! I’m 27!” Abigail could feel herself becoming more and more exasperated.
Sal looked shocked for a moment and then let out a small giggle that totally disarmed Abigail.
“My mistake,” these were the only words they could force out between their hearty chuckles. Abigail sat in awe at how much enjoyment someone could take in being a fool.
Over the course of the next few minutes Sal finished their food in mostly silence.
“So what are you planning to do with me?” Abigail asked trepidatiously.
“I’m going to mark you with the insignia and send you on your way,” Sal responded. “Y’know catch and release, like a fish, yeah?”
“Gee, love being compared to a fish” Abigail rolled her eyes.
Sal continued on paying the girl no mind “That’s why I had to put the cuffs on ye, king told me that I had to give you those runes before I let ye go, that and I was worried you’d get back up and kill me.”
“Well then I guess if I don’t have much of a choice then, let’s get this over with,” Abigail sighed. Even if she was getting out of this with her life, the idea she was forced into the decision was enough to sour her mood.
“No you do have a choice,” Sal assured with a soft smile. They lifted their hair from their shoulder to reveal a royal sigil burned into their neck.
“Believe it or not, I actually know a thing or two about what it’s like to be branded against your will.” They lifted their right hand to reveal a scarred nub where their pinky finger once was. “Got it from the king’s guard the same time they gave me this.”
Abigail’s stomach sank hearing those words, she could only imagine what they had been through.
Sal leaned forward with a kind smile. “So that’s why I want you to give you a proper choice.”
Abigail bit her lip before she spoke. “They did that to you and you’d still work for the king?”
Sal was quiet for a moment, taking time to consider their answer before speaking. “And if I said I wanted to kill the bastard? What would you say then?” Sal questioned.
“I’d say you're bloody crazy, and a liar to boot,” Abigail chuckled.
Sal drank those words in before continuing. “Here are your options, I can mark you and let you leave, or I pretend I didn’t find you, skip marking you, but you would have to move house, or…” Sal drew out the last word before looking up. Their eyes shimmered in the light of the campfire like pools of blood in the sun.
“I can add you to my collection and bring you back with me,” Sal crooned.
“And why in the hells would I do that?” Abigail huffed.
“Well I’d still have to mark you, but you’d have a front row seat to the world I plan on makin’.” Sal was as nonchalant as ever but the fire in their eye communicated a deadly level of earnestness.
“Think about it! You’d still be able to study your magic and things, hells I’d even be able to find you more things to study and I’d have someone who was able to look at my magic objects all proper like,” Sal broke into an excited rant that, against her better judgement, it actually did charm Abigail a good bit.
“You offer this to every girl you find in your line of work?” Abigail challenged. She knew she didn’t have to fall for this. Was the person in front of them ridiculously cute? Sure, but she couldn’t tell if they were masterful at manipulation or simply too stupid to lie to her.
Sal waved their hand. “Nah, because none of them were as beautiful as you are, and I’m a proper sap for a beautiful lass!” Abigail felt her face go even hotter at the knight’s words. She already was dealing with the fever from mana sickness but if she got any hotter she thought she’d burn a hole through the rug where she sat.
“You’ve got them beautiful green eyes like Antoinette, prettiest eye color I’ve ever seen! Nothing like ‘em where I’m from! You’ve also got them cute round ears and-” before Sal could continue their list Abigail interrupted them.
“O-okay I get it!” Abigail flustered. Sal smiled softly back at Abigail as she attempted to pull herself back together enough to respond.
“I’ll let you mark me and I’ll decide tomorrow if I’ll come along with you, but I’m not promising anything, understand?” Abigail attempted a stern expression.
“Understood,” Sal beamed.
“Alright, let’s get the marking part over with,” Abigail sighed in an exasperated manner. She knew there was no comfortable way to put runes on someone’s skin, her tattoos were proof enough of that.
Sal nodded dutifully before running over to their supplies. When they returned they carried their parrying knife.
“No way in hell you’re using that to mark me, are you insane!” Abigail protested.
“Oh please, there’s no nice way of doing this in one night. I’ll make it quick if you're so worried,” Sal reassured.
“F-fine but at least undo my cuffs!” Abigail demanded.
“No can do Princess,” Sal grunted as they crouched down onto their knees to meet Abigail’s eyeline. “It’s my only assurance that you won’t ruin the sigils.” They scooted forward close enough that they were mere inches from Abigail.
“Ughhhhh fine j-just,” Abigail hated her own vulnerability in this moment, “just go slow, please.”
Sal gave a reassuring smile. “Of course.” They looked down, almost inspecting Abigail. “I can’t put this mark on your arms since your tattoos will ruin the effects, so where shall I put it?” Sal asked with a soft and empathetic tone.
Abigail gave it a moment of thought, she wanted room on her back and chest if she was going to extend her tattoos so her next option was-
“My neck-”
“No, I refuse.”
Abigail flinched. It was off putting to hear Sal take such a stern tone, let alone interrupt her like that.
“T-then do it on my thigh please.” It was the only other place Abigail felt she could easily hide it.
“Understood,” Sal leaned forward, bringing both hands to the edge of Abigail’s skirt, gently pressing their fingers into Abigail’s skin. Abigail felt touch for the first time in what felt like a lifetime and sighed into the unfamiliar feeling. Sal’s hands were warm, they were firm, covered in calluses and scars from ropes and blades.
Sal smiled as they felt Abigail’s thigh squish softly under their hands. “Gods… sitting around eating sweets all day has done wonders for your figure, eh?” Sal joked.
“F-fuck off,” Abigail flustered. “How do you know I even eat sweets?”
“Darlin’ I can smell it on your breath,” Sal’s words made Abigail suddenly very aware of the sensation of Sal’s breath dancing across her face.
Sal brought the blade to Abigail’s pale skin. “Breathe in for me love.” It was a small order but Abigail dutifully followed. The blade pressed into Abigail’s skin softly, and before long the sting of skin separating forced Abigail to breath out slowly. Soon enough, drops of crimson made themselves seen.
Before Abigail could catch her breath a sudden burning sensation in her thigh made her breathe sharply as she grit her teeth. The pain was more severe than she could have possibly accounted for, and she shivered as the burning soon consumed her fully.
“Fuck! It burns!” Abigail whined.
“Sorry darlin’ the knife’s made of deep silver and salt, anti-fey and anti-magic, uses the same principles as salt circles, yeah?” The explanation clicked perfectly alongside Abigail’s memories. This finally explained how the knife tore through her spell like paper. Normally she’d find some satisfaction in a discovery like this but for the moment her mind went blank from the pain.
“Unfortunately gives the blade a wicked sting. Bear with it for me, pet.” Sal brought the knife to another part of the witch’s thigh.
“All I need is five more cuts to complete the mark, do you think you can handle that?”
“Yes S-Salacia,” Abigail’s voice broke and quivered as she fought to catch her breath.
“My full name? You honor me,” Sal’s tone was sweeter than taffy. Sal brought the knife back to Abigail’s thigh and proceeded to pull the blade back with a focused clean arc.
Abigail winced as she let out a small cry and shivered from the shock.
“One.”
Abigail panted as she felt a twisted excitement and anxiety pool in her stomach as the blade returned to her thigh. She tried her best to steel herself but she knew it was fruitless. Sal cut her again, this time smaller than the previous two had been, but still enough to bring a cry out of Abigail.
“Two, you’re doing very well for me sweetheart.”
Abigail could feel herself melting at that damn word, sweetheart. Sal’s eyes were beautifully framed by their heavy eyelashes. The knife returned again, and again Abigail attempted to ready herself for it. The next slice came heavy and much longer than any before it. Abigail cried as she completely crumpled into Sal.
“Three, we’re almost there, just a little more.”
Abigail’s head landed into Sal’s collarbone, seeking anything she could steady herself on. Sal brought a hand up to Abigail’s hair.
“Shshshhhh, almost there love, I know it hurts but you’re bein’ very brave for me,” Sal consoled.
Abigail opened her eyes to see Sal’s body closer than she’d ever had the chance to before know. Covered in scars and sealed wounds. Sal’s body was one that knew true genuine agony in a way that Abigail’s sheltered existence never could allow her to. Sal’s muscles shifted as they slowed their breathing to listen to Abigail’s staggered whimpers.
Sal’s body was fucking gorgeous.
Abigail gathered herself enough to sit upright and meet eyes with Sal. Sal’s eyes were transfixed on Abigail, searching for any sign of hesitation.
Their face was so handsome in this light.
The cold steel pressed itself against Abigail again as Sal prepared to cut. They took a heavy breath in before pulling the blade back. Abigail hissed through her teeth but held steady. She felt blood drip hot and slick down her thigh, forcing her leg to twitch and convulse from the sensation. She also felt something she didn’t care to admit, a growing excitement between her legs that was making itself ever more present.
God Sal’s lips were so fucking pretty. Abigail wanted to taste those lips more than anything right now.
“Four. One more, I know you can do it.”
Abigail wasn’t taking in their words anymore, her mind was slowly hyper focused on the sound alone of the knight's voice in front of her. Its raspy quality but gentle tone drenched their words in syrup. It was sweet enough that it made her salty wounds all the more intoxicating. A thick honey poured over the witch’s heart, melting her defenses further.
Abigail’s legs shook, she could feel herself soaking her panties at the tip of her cock and she knew she was a pathetic sight. So desperate for touch that even wounds were enough to make her into a puddle. How much of a slut did Abigail look like melting this quick for a pretty stranger?
The cold force of the knife brought itself back to Abigail’s leg, she gasped with anticipation. Each cut burned and flared as pleasure radiated between her legs. Soon the dagger began its descent down her thigh. Abigail could scream in this moment but she didn’t know if it was from how sickeningly painful the wounds where or how fucking badly she needed to be touched.
Tears pooled in the corners of Abigail’s eyes, she felt like she was going crazy but she couldn’t identify if it was from the mana sickness, the pain, or her desire.
As the knife left Abigail’s thigh the wounds began to shine a brilliant purple as the seal was completed. The purple hues only made Sal’s eyes shine an even brighter red.
“You were so good for me love, let me get some of the salt out of those wounds for you,” Sal sighed.
Sal brought their face down to Abigail’s thigh and dragged the flat of their tongue across Abigail’s fresh cuts. Each lick reignited the pain and itch of each cut, but only for a moment before a washing wave of relief hit Abigail as the burning from the salt would disappear. As Sal dragged their tongue across Abigail’s thigh, blood would coat their tongue in a brilliant purple before they’d pull away and the liquid would return to its deep vermillion hue.
Sal returned up to Abigail’s eye line after the cleaning. Abigail was left huffing, legs shaking. Sal brought their hands up the sides of Abigail’s legs, hitching at the edge of the skirt.
“I can’t wait for you to be mine,” Sal purred.
“I didn’t say-” Abigail tried to protest but as she caught her breath she was interrupted.
“I know. But I’m not stupid. I know some part of you wants it, you wouldn’t have agreed to be marked if you weren’t at least considerin’ coming with me,” Sal grinned.
“F-fuck you,” Abigail panted.
“That’s the idea,” Sal responded. They gently pushed Abigail on her back as they used their other hand to wipe blood from their lips.
The purple light finally dimmed before the two as the rune completed being infused.
“Let me show you what it could be like, how you could live if you were mine,” Sal slipped their head lower down the girl’s figure, breath fluttering at Abigail’s neck, slowly lifting their hands along with her skirt.
“I’ll stop if you don’t want this, just say the word and we’ll be done,” Sal’s confidence was radiating from every inch of them.
Abigail whimpered, “Please.”
“Good girl, but I need to know you want it. Tell me what you want,” Sal sighed the words into Abigail’s neck driving the poor witch wild.
“I want to c-cum, please…” Abigail knew it was slutty of her to just ask for an orgasm out right but she couldn’t help herself. She needed an outlet for all the fire she felt inside.
Sal’s hands dragged Abigail’s skirt higher up revealing the soaked cock and panties underneath. They pulled away from her neck, swiftly lowering themself for a perfect view of the mess Abigail was making.
“You deserve a reward for how good you were while I was making that pretty little rune,” Sal whispered as they used their teeth to pull down Abigail’s panties. Abigail’s hard cock slipped out helplessly into the cool night air, drawing a quick inhale from the girl.
Sal smiled softly back up at Abigail before taking her cock into their mouth. A gasp escaped Abigail’s lips as Sal began steadily bobbing their head up and down. Abigail certainly wasn’t large, but she had never experienced someone who had so easily been able to take her length.
Abigail began to whimper and shake as she melted into the pleasure. Sal’s mouth was hot and all consuming. The warm gasps of air they’d take as they’d slow down would tease Abigail’s skin in a way that made her shiver. Sal took their hands and grabbed Abigail’s thighs, Abigail wincing against the feeling of Sal touching her still fresh wounds.
“Bear it.”
Abigail flicked her eyes down to meet Sal’s blood red gaze The command was a short one but Abigail was compelled to listen. Satisfied, Sal returned to dutifully sucking Abigail’s cock. Their grip across Abigail’s thigh tightened, drawing more blood from the witch. Abigail drank in the warm feeling of Sal’s fingers reaching and touching underneath her skin through her wounds. It was like Sal was touching the very veins that now poured blood onto their hands. Sal saw and felt every inch of Abigail in a way no person had in years, it terrified her and excited her all in the same instant. Thoughts of this stranger getting so deep within her physical being destroyed every wall Abigail put up.
“Fuck! Please Salacia, I’m going to cum,” Abigail choked those words out nearly on the verge of tears.
Sal lifted their head and brought their face to Abigail’s eye line, using an arm to prop themself above her. Abigail breathed in the knight’s scent as they were mere inches from one another. They smelt of salt, sweat and iron, a savory heady smell that drove Abigail wild. She could feel Sal’s breath tease across her face.
Abigail desperately wanted to kiss them but she already felt like too much of a needy whore for having the knight touch her. But she couldn’t help it. She needed to be cared for so much worse than she ever could’ve imagined, and just thinking about tasting the scar on the corner of their mouth was enough to break her down.
“Go ahead sweetheart, I’m here.” Sal brought their strong hand over Abigail’s cock and began to pump at a continuous rhythmic pace, their hand hot and slick with a mix of sweat, spit, blood, and cum. Abigail reeled her head back and moaned deep and guttural. She was being torn apart at her edges but she loved every second of it.
Sal hadn’t finished her attack however. Pushing open the buttons on Abigail’s dress the knight placed their mouth on the girl's nipple. Little bites and hearty licks at her breast as deep cries left Abigail’s mouth. Her chest was flushed like her face, which only encouraged the knight's assault.
“Fuck I-I’m-” Abigail was completely unable to finish her thought before her pleasure completely over took her.
“That’s it, cum for me. I’m right here,” Sal’s whisper was all the permission Abigail needed. The witch closed her eyes as she whimpered and cried. With one final thrust into Sal’s hand Abigail’s cum began to shoot out, covering the knight’s hand and pouring onto her own thigh, the clear slick mixing with the cloudy blood and dripping to the ground below.
The hot liquid brought a fresh burn to her injuries, that mixed with the pleasure and mana sickness was tearing her apart.
“F-fuck” Abigail panted. Her lips slightly parted as she gasped for air shaking from the experience. Her eyes were hazy and filled with tears. Her vision began to blur as she put all her weight onto the knight.
Sal guided the girl to their chest. As Abigail huffed and tried to pull herself together she watched as Sal brought their soaked hand to their face. Their hand was drenched in Abigail’s blood and cum, drops falling from their missing pinky. Abigail wanted to apologize for the mess but words were well beyond her reach.
Sal licked across their pointer finger, closing their eyes thoughtfully before speaking. “Sweet, just like I knew you’d be.” And with those words Abigail knew that every part of her was appreciated, inside and out. It was her permission to become totally undone.
Before Abigail knew it the tidal waves of pleasure and pain would soon begin to fade as the girl’s vision blurred more and more and soon…
Her eye’s closed and darkness returned.
When Abigail opened her eyes she was laying in a sleeping bag. She brought a hand to her thigh and felt a swath of warm clean bandages. It only took her a second longer to realize the reason she could feel that was because her hands and feet were unbound. She also felt that she was given fresh clothes, as she wasn’t in her usual day dress anymore.
Above her the sky was still painted in stars and darkness. She felt relief at the cool night air, letting it cool her body from the burning hot experience she had before falling asleep. She could also sense that her mana sickness had passed. She closed her eyes for a moment before rolling over towards the light of the campfire to see what else she could find out.
Soon after her ears picked up on a noise. Focusing closer, Abigail squinted her eyes to see the knight leaning against a tree near the campfire. Their hand trailed down their muscular body and in between their legs as they quietly touched themself.
Abigail couldn’t see much from her low vantage point but she drank in every detail of what she could see. Sal had their pants just past their waist, Abigail couldn’t actually see much of anything besides their small tuft of platinum pubic hair that flowed out right below their navel but the movement’s and the shiny puddle of liquid right underneath the knight made it clear what was happening.
Abigail’s eyes widened. On some instinctive level she knew she should look away and give this person their privacy but she couldn’t help but display a deep craving to keep looking. Abigail looked on in silence, taking in each little noise and each little movement. A deep envy began filling her stomach.
I wish I could touch them.
I want to make them make those noises.
I want to taste them.
Abigail, unbeknownst to her, began to breathe harder from the voyeuristic pleasure and the torturous want she felt. Abigail could feel herself drooling in her need and swallowed hard.
The knight stopped suddenly and flicked one of their ears.
They heard me!
Sal turned their head but was met with Abigail turning in the bag to look away from the fire. Abigail was terrified she’d been caught peeping but soon Sal returned to what they were doing. Abigail decided to hold deathly still and focus her hearing to listen to whatever she could get.
Abigail spent an hour drinking in those raspy little moans before sleep found her again.
The next morning Sal stood within the water of the lake that lay at the east side of the woods. Their pants were rolled up and they wore a baggy blue tunic as they took to their morning chore. They held a heavy woven basket and leaned down to pick something up and out of the water every few minutes.
Their ears flicked for a moment before they turned their head to see Abigail standing on the edge of the water. Sal forced their legs through the water, splashing and sloshing on the way before stopping within speaking distance.
“Morning darlin’! How’d you sleep?” Sal beamed.
“I uh, slept fine,” Abigail still felt vulnerable after everything that had happened. Plus a little ashamed of the peeping so it was hard for her to meet Sal’s eyes. “What are you doing out here?”
“Oh! This is one of the few regions where you can find gorsosian oysters! I wanted to get some for breakfast!” Sal smiled a deep and profoundly simple smile at the joys of collecting mollusks. Suddenly their smile shrank into a more serious expression.
“Have you decided?” It was three words but both the witch and the knight knew what they meant.
A moment of silence passed. Abigail’s gaze went down to her feet first before returning to meet the knight’s gaze.
“I’d-” Abigail hesitated for a moment.
“I’d like to go with you,” Abigail’s answer was meek but after taking a moment to process what she said the knight flashed a smile bigger than any Abigail had seen before.
“Yes! Brilliant!” Sal pumped their fist and jumped around in the water with a joy and whimsy that made Abigail almost regret accepting the offer.
“We gotta celebrate! C’mon let’s go have breakfast!” Sal rushed out of the water and took Abigail’s hand. The gesture had taken Abigail totally off guard but Sal was so gung-ho that there was no way of stopping their march with the witch in toe.
A few minutes after the two returned to the camp Sal sat next to Abigail in front of the now smoldering campfire. They reached into the basket they had used earlier and pulled out a shell with a brilliant pink hue. They grabbed their parrying knife from their things and began using it to shuck their first oyster. As they did Abigail let a concerned noise escape her lips.
“Oh please, don’t you get your panties in a twist. I cleaned the knife,” Sal answered Abigail’s stare as if it was an accusation.
“N-no it’s not that,” Abigail blushed remembering last night, “umm, why aren’t you cooking it?”
Sal’s eyebrows raised for a moment. “You mean to tell me, you lived next to this lake for years and never bothered havin’ yourself an oyster?” A disbelieving grin spread itself over the knight's face.
“I’m ummm-” Abigail suddenly felt rather shy being faced with her own ignorance.
“I’m a bit of a picky eater so I haven’t really explored the food around here,” she finally answered.
“Would you like to try?” The knight asked.
Before Abigail could even answer Sal took to showing her the process of eating one.
“Ya just cut that fleshy bit and there you are!” With a satisfied grin they slurped down the meat from the shell. A small shiver spread across their body as their tail wagged and swayed with excitement. Abigail could feel herself drool watching the display. It didn’t help that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.
“Here lemme prepare one for ye,” the knight began the process over again.
“Last night-” Abigail wanted to speak but couldn’t force the words out. She had so much to ask and say but she didn’t know how to.
“Don’t worry about it dote, we can talk about it whenever you’re feelin’ ready,” Sal’s words were punctuated by the hearty crack of the oyster’s shell.
“Th-thank you,” Abigail took comfort in the idea that there would be more time to talk about everything at some later point. She hadn’t had close familiarity with a person like this for so long that the feeling was almost foreign to her. The idea that she would see someone day after day and that nobody would take them from her was a small comfort she was deeply unfamiliar with.
“Here, open up” Sal lifted the shell to Abigail’s lips.
“I-I can do this part myself!” Abigail stuttered.
“I know, but I got a feeling oysters taste better when a handsome knight is feeding you them,” Sal smiled a soft kind smile as they brought the shell closer.
Abigail closed her eyes as she slurped and then began to chew the rich meat. Soft, wet, salty from its contact with the knife and the tiniest bit sweet.
Abigail swallowed, feeling the rich meat slide down her throat.
It was more delicious than the witch could’ve ever imagined.