Reborn From the Cosmos

Arc 8-20

Arc 8-20

It takes a while to run off the anger. By the time I make it back to the estate, my shirt is clinging to me and a few strands of hair are sticking to my face. I took a liking to looking down on the city. Something that would have been much easier had I switched to the form of a dusk hawk, the first bird I ever copied, but leaping toward the heavens on two legs is more exhilarating. I feel bad for the unwitting souls I must have terrified though.

I’m, ehem, on the heavier side. It can’t be helped! Being tough means being dense. Something heavy falling from a great height tends to make a bit of noise. And cause a bit of damage, but that was hardly a problem given the state of things. I imagine whatever poor souls were wandering the city were confused hearing the loud crashes of my falls all around.

I don’t make it two steps into the estate before arms wrap around my shoulder, causing a spike of unease until a familiar weight leans against my back. I breathed in, my nose telling me it’s my lovely elf, rather than her mother.

Funny enough, she breathes in the same as I did, snuggling closer to me and letting out a pleased hum.

“You smell good,” she practically purrs into my ear.

“I always smell good.”

“Mm.”

My eyes close reflexively as her soft lips brush along my neck. I know it’s coming but her affectionate nip still makes me jump. “You’re, hm, touchy today.”

“I am learning from you, dedia.” Her arms drop, tightening around my waist. “Did you know? There are some that do not leave their homes for the first decade of their union in celebration.”

It’s incredible that she can say these crazy things about her people and I can’t be sure if it’s a joke. “How would they eat?”

“Friends and family leave meals at the door. It is tradition to lurk out of sight and wait for one of the bedraggled lovers to come to the door to collect the baskets and, what would you call it? Catcall?”

Hm. The detail is giving the story more plausibility, as Kierra isn’t one for spinning grand tales. But really, I’m starting not to care much as her hands begin to wander. “You can keep going, but I need to see the pet,” I groan as she squeezes my chest.

She wastes no time scooping me into her arms. I thought the position would keep her from her amorous intentions, but I should have known better than to underestimate her. She easily bears my weight with one arm, leaving her other hand to fondle me as she pleases.

“Are you getting into more trouble?” she asks calmly, as if she doesn’t have her fingers between my thighs.

“Y-yeah.” The only reason I can talk is because she’s stroking me over my clothes, dulling the sensations. “Might have to do a bit of hunting. And…and a little cleaning up.”

“Hoh?”

“The sorry state of this city is getting offensive.” That’s what annoying me. The dumb hunters, the ineffective actions of the Hall. It’s offensive, like a stain on a good shirt or a bad stench from trash that’s been left for too long. Anyone would want to be rid of such a thing. “Geneva sniffed out the hunters hiding our treasure from us.”

Her fingers move with more strength as she grins, her steps surer as she knows her target. “This Authority. Will you be sending it to Alana’s father?”

I’ve actually thought about this a lot. “Some of the materials, some of the gold, but not the expensive stuff or the artifacts.”

Despite my willingness to see it through, I don’t approve of the March. Saints, I don’t approve of any of the northern traditions I’ve been introduced to. Victory, the people that live in the fort, and the James family that governs it, are all insane. The only reason I got involved is because Alana believes in that nonsense whole-heartedly. Even that might not have been enough if the hunters hadn’t been trying to kill me. It’s hard to feel sympathy for a group trying to remove your head from your shoulders.

It’s different now. The hunters have paid more than their share for any and all transgressions. The scales have been balanced, so to speak, for both sides. I’m not entirely sure what Duke James intended for this, but the traditional rules of the March say it has to be satisfied in gold or blood. They’ve spilled plenty of blood so I don’t owe him any riches and I’m not inclined to be generous. Especially if I’m going to be doing him another big favor next winter, helping the armies push to the edge of the continent so I can meet my fellow godling, the infamous Calamity that sparked the war that tore apart a continent.

“Though s-saints know what I’m going to do with an armory without an army.”

“Armies can be found. Or made.”

“Mm.”

Any other response is beyond me as I fruitlessly try to move against her touch. Ugh, it’s torture. It’s just enough to make me hot but nowhere close for me to finish. I desperately want to break out of her grip and do it properly, but the thought of the work that needs to be done holds me back, trapping me in the sweet frustration.

It’s a relief and a disappointment when Kierra carries me into the kitchen where we find Geneva. Gone is the menacing work garments she wore on the street. She’s dressed in her usual fare, a white dress with a worn apron over it. She flashes a sweet smile that is the embodiment of every pure village maiden, giving off innocence and friendliness so powerfully I can almost imagine the ideas being written across her teeth. There isn’t a trace of cunning in her pink eyes, vibrant as a bloom under the summer sun.

She’s got no right to look so adorable, rolling a ball of flour in preparation for baking.

Having reached our goal, Kierra sets me down, grinning in satisfaction at the moment it takes me to steady myself. Then, to my utter surprise, she simply switches targets, glomping onto Geneva. Despite the succubus’ short stature, she doesn’t even pause her movements as my wife begins to “pet” her, her agile tail, curling around Kierra’s leg.

“Will we be postponing work again, Lou?” Geneva asks, tilting her head to give Kierra better access, the position doing nothing to impede her dexterous fingers.

“Can you tell me all the relevant details of the hunters’ operation in an hour?”

“I can give you enough information to take advantage of the opportunity, yes.”

“What else could you give me with a direct transfer of information?”

“Their names, faces, and habits as I’ve observed.”

“What notable advantages would that give me?”

“It could help you think of alternate plans besides get big, smash little people.”

I frown as Kierra laughs. This little…is it just me, or has she gotten a lot more sarcastic lately? “There isn’t enough time for a complicated plan.”

“I suppose not.”

“Then, from your perspective, is there enough time for something other than smack some sense into them?”

“There is always time because I create it if there is a lack. If things are happening too fast, slow them down.”

“Is that what you suggest we do?”

“I never prefer brute strength. It leaves a mess. But either would be effective and both have their advantages.”

Sigh. “Give me the initial report. I’ll decide after hearing that.”

“As you wish, my summoner.”