"—el. Ariel. Ariel!" You blink and shake your head as an insistent Fi snaps her fingers to catch your attention. The halfling gives Shëo and apologetic look. "Sorry. She does this sometimes. Ari—mph!"

You clamp a hand down over the halfling's chatterbox, frowning, and give Shëo a look of your own. "Do you ever feel like a few weeks have passed in a single moment?"

The harpy looks at you, concerned. "Um… no?"

"Hm." You answer her, doing your best to ignore the heavy breathing coming from your captive. Damn it, she's getting your hand wet! "Well, whatever. You can tell Tinny I'll be there as soon as I can be."

"Alrighty!" The concern on her face melts away immediately as she's given her task, replaced by excitement and determination. It must be a mailbird thing. "I'll get the message to her in a flash!"

"Thanks, Shëo. Fly safe."


It doesn't take too long to explain the situation — or as much as you know of it, at least — to your harem. There's some arguing over who gets to go with you, but ultimately you decide to go ahead and meet with the Eldritch before putting a team together. You're not entirely sure how urgent Tinny's request is, so you only indulge in a few hours of saying goodbye in ways both lewd and not-lewd to your family.

Merin seems pleased that she'll get to spend some extra time with her daughter and baby sister before having to bring her sword to bear. You spend no small amount of the time you have before needing to leave playing with your babies as well.

Shëo returns and informs you that Tindalos will meet you near the old Silverwell estate. With her daily duties for the day done, she happily indulges in your daughter's cooking, and you take off to meet your creepiest yet somehow sweetest sister.

--

Unfortunately for Tindalos and yourself, the estate is absolutely abuzz with activity when you arrive. More pertinently though, you feel a familiar unnerving energy emitting from the estate, and you immediately know its source.

The Well.

Shit. Hopefully it hasn't activated and spat out something horrible yet. Mentally apologizing to Tinny, you opt to investigate what's going on before meeting with her.

As you approach the mansion you spot a familiar head of blonde hair and make a beeline for its owner. Leona Silverwell grabs for her sword as you dive towards her, though she releases the weapon immediately when she realizes it's you.

"Maybe shout first next time." The retired adventurer jokes as she shakes your hand in greeting.

"Sorry." You apologize. "Normally I would have, but I was a bit distracted by… well, a weird energy."

"The Well." Leona finishes for you, gesturing for you to follow her to the artifact in question. "Come on."

She has a pair of guards posted at the entrance to the basement, and with a synchronized salute they step aside to allow the two of you inside. As you step foot into the cellar proper, the unnerving energy coalesces into that distinctly Eldritch sensation of something crawling through your soul.

With the benefit of your new knowledge you can at least put a finger on why exactly you feel this way in the presence of this sort of thing — whatever the Sealed Goddess left in you and your fellow angels is likely reacting to other sources of her presence. You take solace in the fact that the bizarre sense is weaker than you've ever felt before — either you're growing more and more immune to it as you suppress that part of you, or the Well itself isn't outputting much of it for you to pick up on.

The artifact itself is glowing softly, illuminating the otherwise empty cellar in an ominous silvery light. At least it's not purple-pink, you suppose. That's… probably a good sign?

"How long has it been doing this?" You ask Leona.

"This, specifically? Maybe a day." She answers. "It's been acting strangely all week, though in more… subtle ways. Reports of seeing movement out of the corners of your eyes or hearing a weird noise, that sort of thing. We get those every so often anyways, so if it hadn't started this little light show I'd have written them off."

You approach the Well and gaze into it, seeing only your reflection staring back at you from the surface of a slightly-opaque silvery liquid. "I take it you haven't tried going through it yet." You say dryly.

"You can't go through it until the liquid inside is solid silver." She replies. "According to old family records, at least. My mages speculate that we've got it repaired enough that it's trying to link up with one of its exit points in the dungeon, but it's not quite able to manage it yet. We're waiting a month just in case."

"So this is normal?" You pause, then correct yourself. "Or you think it's normal, at least?"

"Think being the operative term, but yes." Leona answers you. "It's difficult to know exactly how the thing is supposed to act. None of my family records have anything on how it behaves when damaged, since as far as I can tell they found it when it was entirely whole."

She laughs a little. "You know, I was about to send a letter to you as a just in case sort of thing, but I guess angels have their own ways, hm?"

"Actually, I'm here for someone else." You tell her, turning away from your reflection. "And she's probably waiting for me, now that I think about it. Let me know if anything changes, and be careful with this thing."

"We will." She replies seriously. "Take care, angel."


Tindalos is curled up a short ways away from the estate, her unblinking eyes staring towards her old hideaway.

"Sorry for the delay." You tell her as you approach. "I take it you can feel the Well too?"

"Yes." She answers, her gaze still fixed on the estate. "You should warn them to be careful. My siblings will be drawn to it as I was if any are nearby."

"I did." You reply, looking at her with concern. She hasn't so much as moved a muscle since you got here, and there's a general… gloom about her, for lack of a better word. "Tell them to be careful, I mean. Are you alright?"

"No."

After a moment it becomes clear she's not going to elaborate on her own, so you sit down next to her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

That gets her to shift her attention towards you briefly. "Should I?"


"You don't have to if you don't want to," you assure the Eldritch. "But it might make you feel better to share your problems, and I might be able to help you."

She's silent for a long while, still staring at the estate. When she does speak, her voice is quiet. "My friend lost her sight to my blood."

You remain silent, sensing she doesn't expect you to reply just yet. There's an amount of emotion and inflection in her voice that she lacked before, and you can tell she's on the cusp of an emotional breakthrough.

"Her mother delved the depths of our… my old home," she corrects herself after slipping back into her old speech patterns. "One of my blood laid a curse upon her, and the curse took root in my friend at birth."

"I see." You say carefully. "And this makes you feel…?"

"I do not know. Unpleasant." She replies. "I do not like it. Before, it would not have mattered to me. I would have done it myself, in the right circumstances."

"Did anything matter to you before?" You ask softly.

"Change. Propagation." She answers immediately, and you think back to the first time you entered the cellar, with pregnant women plastered to the walls. "It is what I am. Was."

A frown crosses her features. "It seems so empty now. What I was before."

"Maybe it was." You tell her, stroking her hair gently. It's a bit like touching running water, if a bit more solid than that description implies. "I can't pretend to know how it felt to be you before, Tindalos. But maybe I can help you understand why you feel the way you do now."

"I think you feel… maybe guilt is the right term." This gets her to break her gaze finally, turning to stare at you in interest. "You didn't curse Camilla, but you're related to the ones who did, and what's worse is you know you would have done the same. It's…" You pause, trying to find the right way to explain it. Explaining a concept like this to someone who doesn't really get normal emotion is hard. "You don't like it because you don't want to hurt your friend, or even think about hurting her, but you know you would have been fine with it before, or even done it yourself."

She's silent once more. If you weren't used to her unblinking gaze already, you'd probably be unnerved with how she stares at you. Finally, she speaks.

"I do not like feeling guilt."

You laugh aloud. "Nobody does, Tinny. But it's better to feel guilty over the things we've done wrong than to not."

"But I did not do anything wrong."

"To Millie, perhaps." You confirm. "But how many women have you hurt without caring?"

Silence reigns once more, and this time when she speaks again she changes the subject. "The curse can be lifted. It requires…" She pauses. "Millie used a term. The 'hair of the dog that bit her.'"

Best not to push her too far on the guilt thing yet. It's better that she comes to accept it on her own. "So you need a piece of the Eldritch that cursed her?"

"No." She pauses, then corrects herself. "That could work, but I doubt she is still in the dungeon. We do not tend to survive long."

You feel a chill run down your spine at how casually she mentions that last bit. "Don't you reincarnate? Could we use something from her next incarnation?"

"Yes. Yes." She answers each in turn just like that, the odd stiffness of her reply making you giggle. "But she likely incarnated somewhere else. We typically do so far from one another, otherwise we tend to terminate one another."

"But it does not matter. A concentration of my Mother's essence will suffice. I would provide it myself, but Chimera's blood and your chains dilute my own nature."

"So we need to find an Eldritch and kill it."

"We need to find one of my kin of sufficient power and kill them." She corrects you. "One of my brothers, sons, or nephews will serve just as well as my sisters."

"So abominations are fine too."

"Sufficiently powerful abominations." She corrects you once more.

"Right."

"Do you know where to find one?"

"In the dungeon."

Great. That doesn't help… although, now that you think about it, doesn't your other earthbound sister have a spell that can find Eldritch energy sources now?


Tamael is in her own dungeon, though fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) you arrive as she's in the middle of aftercare with Chalice and not in the preceding act. The faux-priestess is happily splayed on her stomach in your sister's lap, humming as Tamael feeds her snacks for being a good girl.

"Ariel! And Tindalos." The other Fallen's smile is brilliant. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We need to find a really strong Eldritch or abomination, and I thought your new spell could help."

She frowns. "I did not intend for you to use that spell to run off into danger, Ariel."

"You're not my mom." You answer, sticking your tongue out in mock petulance.

"Watch it, young lady. I can still take you over my knee." She answers teasingly, then sighs. "Very well. I know better than to try and dissuade an angel when she sets her mind to something. If you would tend to Chalice for me? She's not permitted to have her bottom healed quite yet, so ignore any such requests."

It takes her a short while to set up the spell, during which time Chalice does indeed attempt to covertly convince you to heal her spankings. "Please? She'll spank me harder next time if you do!"

And you thought Fi was masochistic.

--

"My, you're in luck." Tamael notes dryly, clearly still not happy she's helping you walk into danger. "If I expand the parameters of the spell to include abominations, we do indeed find a 'sufficiently powerful' subject in the dungeon. It's rather deep, and…"

The Fallen frowns, leaning in to better examine the workings of the projected map. "Close to another new signal. Curiously, that one is identical to…" She traces a line to another spot outside the dungeon. "I don't recognize this area."

"I do." You reply, feeling a chill run down your spine. "That's the Silverwell Estate."

It would appear there may be more danger with the Well than even you anticipated.


"You'll want to take this entrance." Tamael tells you, pointing to a spot on the western side of the mountain. "It's closest, so unless there's a specific set of tunnels that leads to this 'exit point' it will be the quickest path. There is a settlement similar to Latchky nearby."

"Thanks, Tamael." You give her a kiss on the cheek, much to her pleasure. She beams at you and returns the gesture.

"Be safe, little sister. I'd hate to have to spank you for taking stupid risks, but since Mikael is not here…"

You laugh, as does she, but for some reason you think she wasn't actually joking.

--

"Alright, Tinny. I'm gonna grab a few people to tag along, and we'll make our way to that settlement."

"I will meet you there, sister." She replies, and the two of you go your separate ways.

Your party assembled, you make your way to the settlement of Redfield, making use of the Tome of the Traveler to get as close to the little town as you can to minimize travel time. You can only carry so many people, after all. As it is, you make it to town as the sun sets.

The settlement resembles Latchky pretty heavily from the outside. Large wooden walls and gates separate it from the rest of the world. Unlike Latchky, Redfield is basically right on top of its respective dungeon entrance, so much so that the Watcher's song audible before you even reach the gate.

Merin, as the official leader of your party, provides the documentation necessary to get past the guards. To your surprise, they recognize her name.

"Merin Whitehowl?" One of the women, a dwarf, looks up sharply. "I'll be damned. You'll want to drop by the inn over yon," She turns and points to a decently-sized building. "Be sure to tell Ciria I sent you."

"What, we get a discount or something?" Fi asks, and the dwarf shakes her head, grinning.

"Nah, I do. You'll see."

With that said, she waves your group inside, giving you only a cursory glance. Tindalos has been given your transformation feather just in case — if there is an abomination even remotely near here, you don't want any witnesses potentially linking its traits with her.

With the feather making her look human she resembles nothing so much as a thin, nervous, and confused young woman. It's… really sad, actually. Her monstrous nature and appearance typically hide her emotions rather well, and without that veil it's much easier to see how genuinely out of her depth she is at the moment.

Driven by motherly instinct, you reach out and give her hand a gentle squeeze. This seems to confuse her more at first, but she does seem to calm after a few minutes of hand-holding.

You figure out pretty quickly what the dwarf was getting at when Merin places her request for a room at the inn — apparently she's pretty well-known among adventurers nowadays.

"Brings us a ton of business, this one!" The halfling bartender says cheerfully, passing your group a round of free drinks. Tindalos sniffs hers warily. "Hell, half the big name 'venturers wouldn't drop by if not for her requests!"

You knew she was putting out feelers and jobs to support the homestead, but you didn't know she was this popular. An evil idea takes hold of you out of nowhere, and a malicious grin makes its way across your face.

"Did you know she has a title?" You ask the bartender, who you know is prime rumormonging material. If she knows, soon the entire place will.

"Ariel, don't you dare." Merin hisses, half-mortified and half-furious, as the bartender looks at you with interest.

"They called her the Soaring Wolf in her homeland."


You'll probably be sleeping on the floor tonight, but Merin's sheer embarrassment as the inn chants "Soaring Wolf!" over and over makes it worth it. Sybil chastises you for being a bully, Fi joins in the chant… all is as it should be.

Once things (and Merin) have settled down, you're able to ask about goings-on in the dungeon near here.

"It's been a mess of late." The innkeep, another halfling (the 'Ciria' the guard mentioned earlier) says cheerfully. "Keeps the cash flowing, so I don't mind overmuch."

"How much of a mess?" Liane asks, curious.

"A big one, at first, but it's settled down a bit over the last month or so." Ciria informs your group. "Mostly monsters fighting over territory and pushing one another 'round, that sorta thing. Means old paths that were safe before aren't, you know the drill."

"That doesn't happen often?" Merin asks.

"Not like it has been, no. I mean, sure, you get some scuffles here and there, but there've been near-stampedes of critters as of late. We're not sure what's got them so riled up, since our usual friends on the inside are movin' around too."

Of course. Nothing can just be easy, can it?

"There isn't anything big and nasty causing a scene and agitating them, is there?" You ask.

"Hrm…" The innkeep frowns. "Well, 'tween you an' me, there have been mutterin's of some nasty some-such deeper in. Nobody really agrees what it was, though — anyone who so much as glimpsed it just bolted for the surface. None of 'em can give me a straight answer as to how it looked, neither."

She leans back. "Some big-name 'venturers showed up when we reported it, actually. You just missed 'em — might run across 'em in there, in fact."

"Really?" Merin asks, brightening. "Who was it, exactly?"

"Well, I said big-name…" Ciria rubs her neck sheepishly. "But they didn't actually give their names. You could tell, though — they carried way better gear than most. Pretty big group, too — maybe a dozen or so, but two of 'em were clearly the leaders. One had a huge sword, too… not as big as yours, mind." She winks at Merin. "The other was some sorta pathfinder or rogue, if I had to guess. Looked like the type to drink a lot, but she didn't stick around long enough for me to find out exactly how much."


You think for a moment. The description, vague as it is, does tug at your memory just a bit. Which is odd, because you don't actually know any adventurer groups offhand — at least, none who are still alive today.

A vague sense of unease and trepidation falls over you, and you find yourself trying to piece together a puzzle without having all of the pieces. But… you do actually have the pieces, you realize, with dawning horror.

Who shows up almost right away to such a vague monster sighting, unless they happen to know something about that sort of situation and deal with it regularly? What sort of monster would be that vague and unknown in general, on top of an apparent ability to obscure the memory of its appearance?

The answer to the latter is 'exactly what you're here to find,' that being an Eldritch or abomination. The answer to the former, then…

"Inquisitors." You mutter under your breath.

Fuck. Things really can't just be easy, can they? Tamael might really try to spank you when you get back at this rate.


You inform your party of this development when you're all in your room.

"That's… very, very bad, Ariel." Liane says, more to herself than you. She knows you know as much already, after all. "If it were just you here it would be bad enough, but…"

Tindalos looks… not scared, but uncomfortable. "My presence as well complicates things further, yes."

"If they were just here for something else we could probably avoid them completely with a little luck, but chances are they're here for the same thing we are." You elaborate, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. "So we basically have to beat them to the prize and avoid their attention."

"Can you convince them you're an ordinary angel? With the feather, Tindalos can pass for human as she is now. Perhaps you could invoke some sort of seniority?" Liane posits.

"…maybe." You reply, uncertain. "I'd need to try and make my wings look like one pair instead of two, though. Chances are they'd know better."

"Not all Fallen end up with two pairs of wings, Ariel." Sybil comments. "If our children are any indication, that is. If you claim to be some other form of monster you may not be able to claim seniority over them, but they will perhaps allow us to accompany them and claim the abomination's corpse afterwards."

"That… is also a maybe." You say, frowning. "I'm not a great liar, but I can try to avoid the subject of what I am entirely. Maybe if I just show up in front of them they'll assume I can't be a devil, because what devil would be that stupid?"

"Your sister is going to spank you when you see her again." Tindalos affirms.

"You hush." You reply, ruffling her now-normal hair. She seems baffled by the gesture, but does not refute it. "Alright, we'll have to play it by ear. Who knows, maybe we just beat them there entirely and don't have to worry about it?"


You pass through the entrance to the dungeon the next morning with palpable anxiety. As usual, the wave of atmospheric lust washes over your group as you enter the dungeon proper, and after a moment to adjust you set off towards the abomination — and hopefully just the abomination.

Tindalos, fortunately, seems to have a keen natural sense of the dungeon's twists and turns, guiding you unerringly through the tunnels and open areas of the mountain's maw. You're not sure if it's a canine thing or an Eldritch thing or both, but either way you're grateful for her presence.

It isn't too long before your first sign of trouble, however. Ciria was right — monsters are basically stampeding in the dungeon, and you happen to be right in the middle of one when it hits.

Unlike the last horde you faced down, this isn't composed of any single species — instead it's a confused mass of scrambling monsters of every shape, size, and category (barring Eldritch and Devil), more the metaphorical snowball rolling down a snowy hill than anything else.


The fight starts out really well as you stand valiantly in front of the oncoming horde, determined to prevent them from harming those behind you. Unfortunately, you're still not quite used to how insanely attractive you are now, and while a good number do basically stumble and fall at the mere vision you present, the remainder surge forward with lustful intent.

Determined lustful intent, in fact, as they do actually manage to get in a few really solid blows on your entire group, desire to breed you or possibly get bred uniting them where before they were a disorganized mob.

Fi leaps up and away, vanishing from sight as all good rogues do — and then suddenly, you feel someone on your back. Shocked, you jerk up, but they've got a solid grip on you, and apparently an intimate knowledge of how your robe works — in mere seconds your breasts are freed for all to see, and a pair of halfling-sized hands gives them an erotic squeeze.

An involuntary moan escapes your lips and the entire remainder of the horde simply falls over, blood rushing out of their brains and into other parts of their body too fast for them to handle.

"You little—" You attempt to dislodge the gleeful halfling as she continues to grope you, to no avail.


Your party takes a moment to recover, Liane in particular needing a moment to tend her wounds. "Did you have to excite them that much?" She asks you. "Really, my boobs are going to bruise."

Speaking of bruising, Fi will probably be walking funny unless you give her Relief. Brat. She has the audacity to still look proud of herself even through tear-stained cheeks.

"We have potions, which should patch up most of the damage." Merin says as she ruffles through the party bags. "Or Sybil can work some of her magic, if we don't think it'll take too much out of her this early."


"I always hate how these feel." Fi mutters as the potion takes effect, making her bruising vanish. "It's not so bad with bruises, but cuts? Yuck."

"I know what you mean." Merin laughs. "Like worms stitching your skin back together."

Gross. Now you can't stop picturing that specific image. Why did she have to word it like that?

"Alright, back to it, ladies." Merin says, brushing herself off. "Can't let the Inquisition beat us there."


"—which is why Fi can't sit down for a week now." You finish explaining to Tindalos, who still looks very confused.

"She won the battle."

"Right, but she's a brat." You reiterate.

"I do not understand."

"That's probably a good thing, to be honest." Merin mutters to herself. "I can't believe I'm worried about you corrupting her, Ariel."

--

"Nothing." Fi says as she catches up to the group, having gone back to make sure you aren't being followed. "You sure you heard something, Liane?"

"No." The mage shakes her head, glancing around the tunnels. "But you can never be too careful, don't you think?"

--

"Great, creepy church stuff. I was hoping there was only one of these places down here." Merin groans.

"Goddess!" Sybil intones, coming the closest to swearing you can ever recall to her swearing as she takes in the sight. "You told me of it before, but to see it with my own eyes…"

"Which reminds me, actually. Tindalos, if we come across the Inquisitors—"

"I will be careful." She replies before you can finish. "I have died to their number before."

"…right."

--

"Did you hear that?" Fi whispers, and the rest of your group nods. You're currently standing in the dead center of what looks like an underground church garden, complete with a statue that only vaguely resembles something humanoid… which hangs from the roof, thanks to the altered architecture.

"Slithering." Merin hefts her blade. "Everyone back-to-back, we don't want—"

Whatever she's about to say next is cut off as a veritable flood of tentacular flesh erupts into the room from every one of the many exits that dot its perimeter. A wave of abominations surges towards your group, and from the way they're wiggling those tendrils you can only assume the disgusting things are excited.


You call upon your Mother's laws to unleash holy fury upon the mass of wriggling flesh. A litany of agonized shrieks echoes in the twisted church as the abominable flesh incinerates beneath a concentrated beam of holy light — which, to your mild satisfaction, is the same mix of colors as your halo instead of your Mother's typically golden hue.

Merin spins into the fray, basically just allowing the weight of her weapon to spiral her like a top. Many of the survivors of your ray are split clean in half, making for a scene that would be horrifying if their blood weren't pink instead of red.

Sybil calls down a holy blast of her own, this time in the form of golden lightning that forks from her scepter. Unfortunately, she's no fighter and it shows — only a few of the horde really stumble.

Liane takes stock of the situation and lowers her own weapon as the black liquid that composes much of Tindalos's body ripples. To your mild fascination and considerable shock, a horde of inky black nightmares in the vague shape of tentacled beasts erupts from your 'sister,' slamming into the remaining abominations and ripping them to shreds.

Fortunately for the sanity of the world at large, Tindy's own cavalcade of critters melts and evaporates after a few moments. "I… didn't know you could do that."

"I do not enjoy using them. It tickles."

"Surprised you even know what tickling is." Fi says, stabbing one of the still-wriggling tentacles. "Are these the things you're after?"

"No." The Eldritch replies, shaking her head. "These are weak. Were weak."

"I'll say." Merin wipes pink gunk from her sword and armor. "Did any of it get in my hair?"


You continue into the dungeon, led by Tindalos's unerring nose. Hopefully unerring nose. Technically you don't know how good at tracking she really is, though since you tasked her with following her old victims around the place and she's apparently done that for a while now you suppose she's probably at least decent.

You don't spot the Inquisition at any point, though… that could be a bad thing, you suppose. It's possible they got ahead of you, or are really good at sneaking and have been following you for a while now. Neither thought is a comforting one, so you opt to simply stop thinking about it for a moment — if you come across them you'll deal with them then. Otherwise, there's no real need to work yourself up over a 'maybe.'

The chapel eventually gives way to something else entirely, marking the first time you've gone this deep into the dungeon. It resembles… well, nothing normal, that's for sure.

The walls are stone once more, and though you're no dwarf you can tell that they're not made of any sort of stone you know of offhand. They're too smooth, while simultaneously growing in odd, uneven geometric patterns. It vaguely reminds you of the insides of geodes, but the colors are more muted — silvery-grey, for the most part, with the standard Eris color palette nearly glowing from deep within. More disturbingly, on occasion the walls or floor appear to vanish in spots, revealing what looks like a starry night sky in the void they leave.

Gently, you prod one of those spots with a wingtip, only to find that they're as solid as the rest of the place. Weird.

"Mother's nature presents itself more strongly here." Tindalos notes as she strides across one of the starry voids. "We are getting close."

"Didn't you say the Well is supposed to have an exit somewhere around here?" Liane asks.

"That's what we're guessing." You reply, thinking back to Tamael's map. "But it's hard to say for sure without seeing it."

"Perhaps we should read those notes we acquired from the estate once more when we get back, then." She replies, concern clear on her face. "I don't remember them mentioning anything quite like this."

To be honest, you kind of forgot about those notes — you knew Liane read them, and since she didn't say anything you assumed they didn't have anything worth noting in them.

The group marches deeper into the depths, and it occurs to you that the odd reaction you normally have in these sorts of places isn't really all that present — it's still there, in little purple-pink swirls you spot out of the corner of your eye, but it's nothing like the near-crippling wave of sensation you felt the first time you came across one of Eris's chapels.

--

The chamber containing the Well's exit is almost beautiful, in a way. The ceiling is composed entirely of the starry void you've seen glimpses of, and the walls only come up a short ways, making it feel like you're standing atop the sky instead of deep within the earth. Odd sparkles of light emit from the geode-like floor in intervals that are random yet weirdly transfixing.

The Well itself sits in the center of the room, appearing for all the world like a copy of the one at the Silverwell estate. From your position at the entrance of the room, you can't actually make out the color of the liquid within, or if it even has any liquid.

"This place is… rather beautiful, don't you think?" Liane asks as your group slowly makes its way into the chamber, staring at the ceiling. "I always did love the night sky. Although… none of these stars are right. I can't find any of the constellations. And what is that?"

You follow the line of her arm to her fingertip and directly to the spot above the Well, where a swirling mass that seems to consume the nearby pinpricks of light sits. You wince, feeling a sudden spasm in your chest, and avert your gaze. As you look over your group, you notice that the only other person to have that reaction is Tindalos — and that can't mean anything but trouble.

"Is it here, Tinny?" You ask her, using Millie's pet name for the Eldritch to try to shake her out of the daze she's in after seeing… whatever that is above you.

"It is close. I… it is difficult to tell. Her presence is too powerful here. We… we should leave. This was unwise. I can't—"

How quaint.


Never before in your many, many years alive have you ever felt terror more visceral than when the voice washes over you like a physical thing. It's simultaneously soft and cruel, sweet yet bitter, sane yet beyond insane.

Tindalos quails and immediately hides behind you, glancing in sheer terror at the thing you know is sitting atop the well without actually looking at it. A glance at your companions shows that they're all frozen, still mid-conversation regarding the oddness of the chamber.

My daughter has gotten her talons in my flesh, I see. Or claws, perhaps. She never could decide which she liked more. Regardless, I'm almost… proud. Of her, not you. Honestly, show some spine. It's like I'm looking at my younger self in the mirror. Repulsive.

No. No no no no no. It can't be.

Though, speaking of my unfilial brood… what are you, little winged thing? You look so much like her, but you positively reek of my sister… ah.

If you felt awful before, the full weight of Her attention makes you feel like you're an insect in the palm of a sadistic child.

Ha. Haha. Hahahahahaha! Ah, the comedy of it. I would expect nothing less of my greater whole. Justicia always wanted children. Did she ever tell you that, little winged thing? Or did she abandon you the moment she realized what I'd done?

You don't answer, though she clearly doesn't expect you to.

I suppose it's nice to know I ruined motherhood for her twice over, at least. A pity I didn't get to see her face when she found out.

The horror talks about the rape of your Mother with as much cheer as a young dilettante discussing her favorite boutique.

Really, this is quite fortuitous. I thought I'd be waiting for my pieces for ages — they never want to creep past the threshold, for some reason — but between the two of you… yes, I think you've moved my timetable up considerably. I'll make this painless, as thanks. Ta.

Tindalos shrieks in terror as the thing behind you reaches past you with some immaterial force to wrap her in its grasp. For a moment, nothing happens, then a surprisingly childish huff of frustration sounds from behind you.

Oh, Mera. Did you expect this to happen? I'd be truly proud if you weren't so… f̵̢͚̱̥̗̞͒r̷̡̭̼̰̔͝ͅu̷̗̭̥̟̼͆̈́̒s̴͙͉̓̿̒̀́̿t̵̺͍͛r̴̻̼̟̋̓͝ā̶̳̖t̵͓̣͈͚̱̙̄͋̄͒i̵̮̟̬̇̕̕n̷̨̖̯̓g̸̼̈̈̈́́.̴̡͚̈́.


Well, little winged thing, I suppose you'll have to do for now. You have something of mine, dear — I'd appreciate if you g̶̡̼͉̗̈́͆͗̀ȋ̶̧̠͠v̷͈͆e̶͔̠̖̠̳̮͐̕ ̷̗̙̼̟̦̼̓̓͠į̸̡̼̯̪̹͆̋͛͗t̸̩͂̌̓ ̴̨̝̞̖̈̇̊̽͝b̵̧͖̯̱̀̉a̶̧̨̘͍̜̓̍͗c̵̼̏̀̎͝k̷̗̼͖̿.̷̩̘̘̹̅́̌̍̃

Your mother ripping her gifts from you is nothing compared to the sensation of the Sealed Goddess reaching her tendrils into your soul to wrap them around the corruption she seeded within you and your sisters. When she pulls it feels like she's ripping your very being apart at the seams, and you deeply regret not getting to tell your family you love them one last time.

Then, your soul bucks.

Hey! What the—?

She pulls again, and this time some indescribable part of you slaps her back, hard.

Ow! Stop — agh!

Completely independent of you, some part of your spirit adjacent to that insidious core continues to smack at the Goddess of Chaos, with Eris whining and yelping like a chastised child all the while.

How? How did — no. You can't be — I destroyed your Name, you — stop! STOP!

Heedless of her demands, the beating continues, picking up in fervor and intensity and vaguely reminding you of an angry matron smacking an unruly bird that just happened to flit through her window.

Suddenly, with a noise like shattering glass, the presence of the Sealed Goddess vanishes as abruptly as it came.


You collapse to the ground, gasping for air. Deep within you feel a vague and entirely foreign sense of smug satisfaction, which then gets shoved out of your mind as your harem rapidly goes to worrying over what to them must appear to be a random fall.

"Ari!" Fi is, kind of surprisingly but also not, the first one by your side, holding your face in both hands. "Look at me. Are you okay?"

"'mfine." You mumble between squished lips. "Well, maybe not fine. I'm not hurt, though." Wait, that's kind of a lie too. You feel like someone stretched your insides out over this entire room and then squished them back together. "Actually, I'm kind of hurt. Can I lay down? I'm gonna lay down."

--

It doesn't take too long to relay the story to your harem.

"You're grounded when we get back." Merin says, dead serious. "Honestly, can you go one job without stumbling across some ancient nightmare?"

"Not my fault." You mumble, your head in Sybil's lap as the priestess strokes your head.

"I'm starting to wonder." The warrior retorts. "Alright, we're going back."

"What? No!" You sit straight up. "We're so close! Aren't we, Tinny?"

She looks at you uncertainly… actually, is that guilt writ across her features? "…yes."

"See? We'll just kill the abomination, then leave. It'd be a waste of a trip otherwise."

"Ariel…" Merin says warningly. "You just had an encounter with the Sealed Goddess. You don't just walk something like that off."

"I know." You huff. "But Camilla can't just walk off being blind, either, and I promised Tinny I'd help her."

"I don't…" Tindalos looks uncomfortable, squirming in place. "I do not wish you to be hurt."

"Good, because I'm not hurt." You say, and this time it's not really a lie. "I feel better, really. Look, we'll pull back if I suddenly keel over again or something, alright?"

The assorted harem glares at you, but ultimately they buckle under your airtight arguments filled with facts and logic… along with a promise that you'll leave the second you start feeling strange.

--

Without Eris's literal metaphysical presence fucking with Tindalos's sense of smell (or whatever she's tracking things by), the Wyldebeast manages to hunt down the abomination in record time. Fortunately, the Inquisition still hasn't beat you to the punch either despite your little dizzy spell.

"Alright. We kill this monster quick and then get the hell out of here." Merin says. "Or get out faster if Ariel starts acting weird or hurting, which she is to tell us about immediately." The look she gives you is very stern-motherly, which you think is going to be handy as Bryn gets older.

"Yes." You reply instead of voicing that thought. She stares at you for a moment, not entirely believing you, before she nods.

"Alright. Ari, Fi… do your sneaky thing. See if you can get the drop on it. Goddess knows we might need it."


You turn the corner and get a good look at the abomination for the first time, shivering slightly as the all-too-familiar Erisian sensation washes over you. It resembles a floating, multicolored crystal, though cracks in it surface reveal undulating flesh within.

Sadly, the lack of eyes or any other obvious way to detect people means it's a bit hard to tell how exactly to sneak around the thing, and ultimately you discover your failure to do so when a long, violet tentacle whips out from a fracture in the crystal to smack at you.

"No luck! Dogpile it!" Fi shouts, and the fight begins in earnest.


The fight starts rather well. You immediately distract the monster, moving with grace and poise just out of range of its tendrils. The display clearly excites it, as the tendrils begin thrashing in a mind-bending pattern…

A little too mind-bending, actually. For a moment you're hit with a vision, one of a great shape far beyond the stars, something which lumbers across the infinite to reach out and drag everything near it into—

A shriek and the sound of shattering magic breaks you from your unwanted reverie. You blink the aftereffects of the Eldritch magic away as Merin goes for a followup swing as the floating crystal flits away from her, smacking at her blade with its tendrils to forestall her blows.

At some point it must have either summoned more abominations or birthed them, since the floor is now crawling with little tentacled horrors. Liane lazily waves her staff in front of her, blanketing the things in flame. She waves at you with her free hand, smiling. Wait, not at you, at—

—Fi is on your back again, and she reaches down to repeat her trick earlier — but this time her hands slip and she just grabs your clothed breasts. Her halfling brain seems to short-circuit for a moment, and her effort is wasted.

Sybil hums an old Justician hymn, and once more the creature shrieks as your Mother's order forces itself upon its alien mind.

Tindalos twitches and jerks, unleashing a wave of bizarre energies across the battlefield. There's an odd sense of… dice falling onto a table, then reality seems to bend slightly. You feel kind of refreshed. Neat.

The abomination slams its crystalline fractures together, preventing it from being allured by your sexy body any longer. You think, at least, it might also just be trying to keep Merin from cutting off its tendrils.

Seizing the moment, you shrug off Fi and leap into action, once more dancing around the creature with ease. Apparently it can still see you, or the temptation to look proves too great, as its fractures open even wider than before, which — oh shit, it's preparing a spell!

The undulating tendrils pause suddenly, drooping a little. Blinking in surprise as its spell fizzles into nothing, you nonetheless look at Merin, excited to see her take advantage of the massive opening…

… but Merin just stands there, staring with a slightly open mouth and flushed cheeks in your direction.

"What… what the hell are you doing? Hit it!" You shout, glancing for Fi — who is also immobile, her wide eyes fixed on you.

Frowning, you look down. You're not accidentally flashing anybody, are you? It's not like you're so sexy you can just shut down an entire fight by moving around the place, honestly. Oh, wait — the front of your robes are a bit wet. You, uh… may still be lactating from having the triplets. They only stopped breastfeeding a couple weeks ago or so, right? Woops.

Sybil chants frantically, her eyes shut tight and her cheeks burning, sending a wave of energy out over the battlefield. Come on, it's not like they haven't seen you like this before!

Tindalos, thankfully, seems immune to your sexy wiles, as she unleashes a horde of her little ink monsters to assist in the fight.


Exasperated, and feeling more than a little like this fight needs to get back to being an actual fight, you grab your daggers and charge the abomination, swinging them faster than the eye can blink and absolutely eviscerating its flesh.

Galvanized by the pain, the horror swings its mighty tendrils at you in a great wave of flesh, but you're already gone, ducking aside and tucking your wings in to keep them from getting clipped.

Merin finally gets her wits about her and follows your assault with one of her own, though the abomination has closed its armor once more, ablating some of the damage.

Fi… still just sits there, absolutely out of it. You're going to make her pay for this later.

Sybil shrieks and swings her scepter reflexively as the crystal gets close, bouncing ineffectually off its hide.

Tindalos once more does her little dice thingy, making you feel even more refreshed.

Channeling your annoyance at Fi into righteous fury, you ascend with your wings before dive-bombing the crystal horror, sending it flying back with the sheer force of your blow. It lands near an exit from this cavern, not far from where you entered.

Shuddering, it suddenly seems to charge up power for a moment — before a long sword juts from its pink-purple flesh, followed by a blast of holy light that causes the monster to explode into chunks, the crystal cracking the wall from the impact in a few places.

A pair of women step into the room, followed shortly by a group of maybe ten. The Inquisition, it would appear, has arrived.


Well, honesty hasn't failed you so far.

"Inquisitors. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before." You begin, then remember your… abundant production. With one arm, you casually reach across your chest to cover it, hoping they won't notice. "I am Ariel, daughter of Justicia."

The two leaders, who had been looking at Tindalos and her inky horde with near-murderous intent already, immediately snap their gazes to you. "Fallen. Do you think we are stupid?" The one wielding the greatsword asks.

"…no?"

"Then why admit what you are?" She asks in return, glaring. "Unless… ah, a trick."

"The oldest one in the Fallen playbook." Her companion, the blonde, sighs, reaching up with one hand to push on her head until her neck pops. "'Oh please miss Inquisitor, I'm not one of those bad Fallen!' Come on, lady. You think you're the first one to try that?"

"I think I'm the first one to mean it." You reply, seriously.


They stare at you for a long, long while, before the blonde lets out a little laugh, brushing her hair back. You catch a glimpse of slightly-pointed ears — not long or sharp enough to be a full elf, but she's definitely at least half. "Hell, I almost believed you there for a second."

"She is… good at appearing sincere." Her companion agrees, looking back at her group, then over yours. "We did not come prepared to face a full party of foes, and the Fallen is not our target."

Relief washes over you. Maybe you'll get out of this without a fight after all.

"Yep." Blondie agrees. "Tell you what, devil. Let us get rid of the Eldritch over there and we'll be on our way."

Oh. Shouldn't have celebrated so soon. A frown crosses your features, and you look towards the Eldritch in question. Tinny looks… genuinely frightened, but you could swear you also see guilt on her face, similar to before. Like she doesn't want to be sold out, but she also feels bad that you're about to get into a fight for her.

Which… of course you're going to get into a fight for her.

"…I can't do that." You shake your head. "She's trying to be better, and I promised I'd help her."

"More's the pity." Blondie shrugs. "If you are serious, it's a shame one of those things managed to sucker you in. We'll put in a good word for you, Fallen. Dunno that it'll count for much, though."

They draw their weapons. Time to fight for your sister… again. You hope this doesn't become a pattern.


Despite their apparent readiness, they aren't quite prepared for how quickly you dart forward and slash at the greatsword-wielding Inquisitor. Her arms try to bring up her weapon, but it's too late — the disadvantage of a longer blade makes itself apparent, as you've already gotten far too close for her to wield it effectively.

Your dagger hisses as it strikes true, and a few of the straps of her armor begins to loosen as your acid magic eats through them. "Dragon magic?" She asks, surprised, before quickly ramming her shoulder into you to force you backwards.

A ray of brilliant golden light washes over you, making you… kinda tickly, to be honest. After a few seconds it's gone, and the other Inquisitor, clearly the cleric of the duo, is left staring at you in bafflement. "That's never happened before." She manages to mumble…

…right before Merin's wild swing separates her and her ally temporarily, though the warrior doesn't manage to strike anything. Another golden light, carrying more weight and a sense of foreboding, emits from your body. You recognize it, and realize that the greatsword lady must be a paladin — she's just gotten you with a Smite. Merin is forced back as the paladin moves herself near enough to strike anyone who gets close to her cleric ally.

Yet another light, this one tinted with just a bit of your blue, swirls across each of your party like the winds of fortune, and you instinctively know that Sybil has beseeched Lady Luck to side with you for a bit. A crackle of Infernal energies and a surprisingly on-point witch's cackle draws your attention to Liane, who holds one of her devastating pink lightning spears like a professional javelin thrower.

In a surprising bit of combat acumen for a mage, Liane feigns throwing her spear at the cleric, causing the paladin to briefly move out of position — and receive the spear dead in the chest as Liane's follow-up throw strikes true. A shriek of pain and a spasm follow, though the paladin remains standing, glaring at the witch…

…which you quickly realize is a feint of her own. That long blade of hers darts out with surprising deftness, though you're more than fast enough to simply flit away with a few wingbeats. The world feels like it's twisting and bending for a second, and you get the distinct feeling that Tinny's favorite number is three for some reason. Odd.

The paladin's failed attempt to hit you has put her past her position to defend her ally, so you seize upon the opportunity to strike at the cleric — only to be surprised by a sudden kick to the rear as you pass, throwing you off and making you full-on collide with the cleric instead. To your embarrassment, your breasts are still lactating… and the poor cleric seems to have gotten a faceful of milky titillation.

Red-faced, the cleric shoves you off of her, chanting an old Justician hymn of relief to restore herself and her ally a bit.

Panic is evident on the cleric's face now, and she turns to her other allies for aid — only to find them quite caught up with trying to deal with an adroit halfling nuisance and Tindalos's inky horde. One tries to break away and gets the spank of a lifetime for her trouble, yowling in pain and falling with a half-sob. Fi has learned from your teachings, clearly.

Merin is locked in deadly combat with the paladin, but her luck just isn't holding even with Sybil's help. Her opponent fights with a righteous-yet-disciplined fury that Merin is unfamiliar with, and manages to slip past her guard to land a devastating blow on you as you're still staggering back from the earlier shove.

It's been a while since someone hit you with a greatsword, and you remember immediately how much it sucks. It doesn't break the skin, but it does feel exactly like you'd expect getting hit with a ton of steel should feel. Worse, the Smite from before spreads the damage throughout your body, making you ache immensely.

Merin, incensed, attempts to slam her own weapon into the side of the paladin, but the latter woman is expecting as much and has already moved into a defensive stance. A bit of the pain throughout your body fades as Sybil chants her own hymn of relief.

The paladin, her attention on Merin, doesn't see the second bolt of pink lightning before it strikes her, this time sending her slamming into a wall. Liane was feeling spiteful, clearly. The cleric looks around, realizes she's more-or-less alone, and reaches into her pocket…

… to retrieve a symbol you recognize. Your eyes narrow at her. "Don't you dare—"

Too late. With a sound that's a cross between ringing bells and chirping songbirds, the symbol erupts into holy light which cascades up and congeals into a brilliant portal. You know from personal experience that on the other side an angel has just accepted a request for emergency aid and is seeing a similar portal before her.

Your sister erupts into the fray trailing golden lights from her wingtips, spinning like Kyna does when she wants to show off. For a second you even think it might be your oft-irksome ward, but as the light dims you realize this girl is different, though she and Kyna do share more than a few features — gold hair, blue eyes, fair skin… not exactly uncommon in Heaven, of course, but not ubiquitous either.

Those azure orbs scan the battlefield, going from excited to worried to horrified very fast. Clearly panicked and inexperienced, your sister strikes at the nearest enemy she can see — Liane. To her credit, she does manage to land a hit with her golden blade, though the witch is adept enough at fighting that she can handle a few blows like that.

Tindalos, surprised and reacting on instinct at the sight of a new threat, guides her horde of flying critters to attack your sister. "Don't hurt her!" You yell, unfortunately only confusing both angel and Eldritch. "Merin, help my sister!"

The poor girl is clearly young — you're not sure how young, exactly, but enough that she has no clue what she's doing. That infuriates you, because how dare this idiot cleric summon any angel into this shitshow knowing the likely consequences, much less a baby. You round on the woman, who is clearly terrified out of her wits, and with a burst of righteous speed you dart behind her and take a page from Fi's book.

You spank her. Hard. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you note that she has an amazing ass, though that thought is drowned out by your fury.

Half the dungeon must hear the echoing smack, and the other half probably stirs at the shrill shriek of pain from the cleric. One hand holds her bottom as the other desperately flails her blade at you, to no effect. You're far too hopped up on wrath for some desperate last-effort swing to land.

A loud clang sounds, followed by the thump of a heavenly body hitting the ground. Your head whirls and you see Merin, looking profoundly guilty, standing over the unconscious body of an angel. That… you're going to have to punish her for that later.

And maybe get your sister a present or something.

Liane, still clearly feeling spiteful, casts a spell you recognize — Blissful Agony, a favorite of the more sadistic demons. The cleric blinks as the magic takes hold, then shrieks in pain once more, clutching her bottom as the pain surges back, then falls to the ground, her legs dribbling with arousal fluid.

Well… it's not the most elegant way to end a fight, but it works.


Treasures

Inner Starlight: A spark of purified celestial starlight. Its subtle warmth radiates from within, granting its bearer a supernatural allure. Grants access to the Sidereal Radiance Temptation perk.

Sidereal Radiance - The temptress's every seductive action is accompanied by an otherworldly glow. This Perk functions as the Dual Wield perk, save that it applies to Seduce instead of Attack. This perk may not be used in tandem with All-Encompassing Allure.

Fallen Star Core: The core of a fallen star. The lucky few who find such a treasure swear it brings good fortune. A skilled smith or artificer might find a use for this, perhaps granting the wielder a bit of extra luck when they most need it. (May be used to craft/upgrade a weapon for any ally barring Ariel herself. You have too many bonuses already, darn you.)

Stellar Thread: A thread of spun starlight. Where it came from, and why it lies in the dungeon's depths, is a mystery that may never be solved. Regardless, it excels at honing the mind of whoever holds it. A skilled artificer or armorcrafter may find a use for this, perhaps granting its wearer a better command of their Focus. (May be used to craft armor for Liane or Sybil.)


The dungeon's depths echo with the sound of your palm colliding with multiple bottoms in turn.

"What were you thinking?!" You ask the cleric, fury still in your voice, your hand rising and falling with the skill of a practiced disciplinarian. "Look at her! LOOK AT HER! She's a baby! You could have made my little sister Fall, you absolute idiot! What do you have to say for yourself?"

The cleric mumbles apologies between yelps and sobs, trying to explain her thought processes in the fight, but you're having none of it.

"No! I Fell due to a mortal's mistakes and I'll be damned if I let you get away with nearly doing the same. Now stay there and think about what you've done." You turn your ire towards your next target, who quavers beneath your stern gaze.

"A-Ari." Merin whimpers. "It was an accident. She — I was trying to hit the shadow things—eeeEEP!"

You let Merin go with a few spankings. Hard ones, because Sybil is still working on getting your poor little sister up. According to your priestess-fiancée, the poor kid should be fine, but… well. Maybe you're also abusing the opportunity to go spank happy for a bit.

"OW! What the hell was that for?!" Fi asks, rubbing her behind. Your hand stings a little, and you realize you must have spanked her on reflex.

"You're very spankable." You tell her with a shrug.


Once your spank-wrath has been doused you tend to your little sister's wounds beside Sybil while Fi and Liane tie up the Inquisitors. The two of you working in tandem gets the job done that much quicker, and it isn't long before the girl's blue eyes flicker open.

"Nnggh… you didn't have to hit me that hard, Juni." The angel grumbles, rubbing her head and sitting upright. Juni… probably Juniel. You recognize the name as belonging to one of the more popular guardian angels as far as summonings go. She and you had an amicable enough relationship, since you often met one another 'on the ground,' so to speak, though the last time you interacted was a little over a decade ago, as far as you can recall.

Your little sister blinks, rubs her eyes, looks around, then clearly remembers why she's here, as she tears up and begins shaking in fear all at once. "N-no." She stutters, desperately trying to back away from you — to little effect, since Sybil was healing her by the wall. When she realizes there's no escape, the metaphorical damn immediately breaks and she breaks down crying.

"Ah! Hey, it's okay! I won't… I mean, you're alright. I'm not gonna…" You don't want to say rape, because even the word itself reminds you of the reason you Fell and you doubt she wants to hear it either. "I won't touch you, okay?"

She clearly doesn't believe you, if the increase in volume and tears is any indication. You manage to make out some of what she's saying in-between otherwise incoherent panic-babble. "'msorry Juni, 'msorry Mother, shoulda listened, I wuzn' reddy, 'msorry!"

Out of the corner of your eye you see horror and shame on the cleric's face. At least she's starting to get exactly what she nearly exposed the girl to.

Unable to stand the sight or sound of your sister's sobbing, you wrap the girl in your embrace despite your earlier assurance you won't touch her. "Shhh, shhh… it's okay, I promise. I won't hurt you, I won't make you feel things you don't want. You'll get to go home to Juni and Mother and everyone else."

It takes a long time, and really you think it's more due to her crying herself out, but she does eventually calm down. "There, see? You're still an angel, and you'll stay that way if I have anything to say about it."

She's silent as you stroke her golden hair. "…could be a trick…" She mutters into your shoulder.

"It could be." You admit, since it's a fair assumption on her part. "But what would I have to gain from that? If I wanted to… make you Fall I could have done it already."

She doesn't answer, mulling over it, and you decide to press her a bit. "Now, what's your name? I'm Ariel."

"Ariel?" She asks, looking up at you in surprise. "The scout?"

"That's… not how most people know me." You admit. "But yes, I was usually summoned as a scout."

"Juni talks about you sometimes. She says you're good at what you do." It seems to slowly dawn on your little sister that she is, in fact, your sibling, and that little bit of humanization helps break down the barrier a bit. "I'm Matriel."

"It's nice to meet you, Matriel. You're… pretty young, aren't you?"

She pulls back and you recognize the childish defensiveness that comes over her features. It's almost comical, considering you just saw her sob her heart out in your arms. "I'm an adult!"

"Uh-huh. How old are you?" You push. "Wait… Matriel was the last angel born, about… you're twenty-three."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "You… you know things like that?"

You shrug. "Kyna likes to spy on everyone else and she tells me everything."

"Kyna… Kynael?" She asks, her lips quirking upwards a little. "She gave me a flower once."

It's your turn to blink. "For no reason? That's… out of character."

"She made me promise not to tell anyone she was taking them from the garden."

Ah. That makes more sense.

"I was ten." Matriel continues, clearly enjoying the memory. "Juni made me tell the truth, but she let me keep the flower."

Come to think of it, the last time you spoke with Juniel was when she informed you that Kyna was stealing flowers to make her dyes again…


"Alright, my little Matriel—"

"—not little—"

"—you were clearly not prepared for a summoning like this, which makes me wonder why Juniel cleared you for it in the first place." You raise your voice and insert a bit of 'mom' in it. "Or rather, why you went through when you didn't have permission."

Your little sister, in stark contrast to her brief interruption, seems to shrink into herself. "I'm cleared to go on missions!" She manages to squeak in protest.

"Sure, I believe that." You tell her with a smile, and she manages to recover some of her size. "But I doubt you're cleared for emergency requests." She shrinks again immediately.

"Um... well, I was the only one who saw it—"

"Don't lie to me, Matriel."

"…I was the closest to it, and I thought maybe they were in a ton of danger and every second counts, so I went in."

"Uh-huh." You stare at her, letting her hang herself with her own metaphorical rope. You don't even need to say 'how did that work out for you,' because she clearly knows.

"… I didn't think there'd be—"

"You didn't think." You emphasize, cutting her off. "I get the picture. This would be your first mission, yes?"

"…yes."

"And Juniel probably wanted to pick it for you."

This time she just nods.

"And she probably already has something lined up, something nice and safe and easy. Something like… helping some small town priestess heal adventurers far away from any action."

Not even a nod, but you're sure you're right. It's kind of the standard early mission for an angel, something to give them a firsthand look at what exactly monsters do to those they capture without actually putting them in danger.

"And you thought you could prove to her you're better than that, so you leapt headfirst into the first emergency summoning you saw, ready to show the world what you could do."

Everyone in the cavern seems to shrink a little now in sympathy for the girl as your mom powers kick into full swing. Her eyes tear up a little again, and she nods once more.

You hold her slightly-teary gaze for a long, long moment, before finally closing your eyes and sighing. "I don't need to tell you how badly you messed up, Matriel. Clearly you know."

"I do." She says, her voice quavering again.

"Just in case, let me spell it out for you — not only did you step into a dangerous situation, you took a summoning from an angel who might have known what she was doing and been able to turn this around. If I were like… most Fallen, then not only would you have doomed yourself, you'd have doomed the Inquisitors who called for you."

"…I'm sorry." She hiccups, turning towards the Inquisitors in question, who look both guilty and uncomfortable.

"Don't feel too sorry for them, they shouldn't have tried to summon an angel into a lost fight in the first place." You say, glaring at them to make sure they know they're not off the hook. "Still, the point stands. You're not ready for this, and you know it… so when you get back home, take whatever punishment Juniel gives you and let her pick your missions for a bit. Trust me, she knows what she's doing."

"I know." She replies, burying her face in your shoulder again. "I just wanted to make her proud, you know?" Her voice breaks into little quavery sobs.

"I know, sweetie." You answer, once more stroking her head affectionately. "Kyna was the same. Still is, really, which is why I keep having to — nevermind. I don't doubt she's proud of you, Matriel. We always are, when it comes to our wards."


You separate from your little sister after allowing her to cry for a little longer on your shoulder. Goddess, your robe is drenched now. Maybe you can have Liane make a self-cleaning enchantment for it.

Tindalos is currently rooting through the remains of the abomination, though she turns to you as you approach. "I have found what I need." She tells you, her eyes flicking to the angel behind you. "I am… sorry for assaulting your sister."

"It was a fight, things got confusing, and she'll be alright." You assure her. "How are you?"

"I am as I was." She replies, gesturing to the body to indicate whatever is left is yours. "You… could have left me."

"No I couldn't." You reply, looking over the remains. This thing seems to be as much mineral as flesh, and contrary to how it looked before you can now see that the two intertwine throughout both the shell and soft inner bits. It's disconcerting to look at for too long.

"Yes you could. They offered to let you go." She says, confused. "Do you not remember?"

"Of course I remember. What I mean is that it was never a real option for me, Tinny. I care about you, I'm not about to leave you to be killed."

She peaks over your shoulder, though you sense an odd hesitation about her. "Ah. You meant you could not leave in the emotional sense, not the literal one. I see."

"Mmhmm… what's this?" You ask, reaching for an odd, glowing spark in the middle of the mass of fleshy and rock. With a flash it surges up your arm and into your breast, settling into you and radiating a surprising sense of… comfort and warmth, of all things. "I… hopefully that's not a bad thing."

"It is not. Concentrated starlight is not harmful to living beings." Tindalos assures you, and you turn towards her with a questioning gaze. "Do you not know this? I do."

"You just… know it, or did you learn it somewhere?"

"I don't remember." She replies. "Do you remember where you learn everything?" It's a sincere question, not a sarcastic one.

"…no." You reply. "I'll take your word for it."

You gather a few other bits and pieces from the area, notably a thread of starlight that Tindalos insists has been 'spun,' and the core of a fallen star. Why in Mother's name any of this would be down here is anyone's guess, but you're not about to question good fortune overmuch.

"Alright, let's head towards the exit." You tell the others. "Keep the Inquisitors and my sister in between us so nothing can pick them off while we get out."

--

The trip outside is thankfully mostly uneventful. A few monsters peek at your group here and there, but wisely think better of picking a fight. Which is a good thing, because honestly you're getting the beginning of a headache, presumably from the sheer volume of nonsense that has happened today. Once you hear the Watcher's song, you call the group to a halt.

"Before we get out there, we need to discuss what happens with you lot." You look at the Inquisitors. "I don't want a major Inquisition combing the area looking for me or her." You hook a finger towards Tindalos.

"So. Contract time. You agree not to speak a word of what you fought down here, other than the abomination we softened for you." You tell them. "I don't doubt someone will eventually notice you're under Contract, but that buys me time at least. Furthermore, you will no longer be able to summon angels into a fight you've obviously lost — and if I find out you shirked that clause somehow and caused one of my siblings to Fall then even the Sealed Goddess herself will feel bad for you when I catch you."

The Inquisitors agree to the Contract — it's not like they have a choice, and they seem to be at least fairly convinced of your sincerity.

"Annabelle's never gonna let me hear the end of this if she finds out." The cleric mutters.

"She quit." The paladin replies. "It's not as though she'd find out from the other Hands."

"Pfft, you know her. Always knows more than she should."

You get the feeling you know who they're talking about, but for some reason your mind can't connect the dots. Oh well.

"Um… what about me?" Matriel asks.

"I couldn't fit a Contract on you even if I wanted to." You reply. "Our sisters would spot it on you in a heartbeat. All I ask is that you insist that you get to report directly to Mikael when you get back — she knows what I am and will vouch for me." Hopefully.

"I… okay." She replies.

"Good. Now then, let's get out of here. I've had enough dungeon for months now, I think."


Once you're outside, your groups basically go their separate ways — the Inquisitors return home, their mission technically achieved. Matriel gets a hug from you before she flies straight into the sky, whispering a little 'thank you' before she goes. You consider giving her a letter for home, but decide against it. You've already sent most everything that needs to be sent for now, and you don't doubt Kyna will weasel her way back to your homestead sooner rather than later anyways.

Tindalos lingers for a while longer, however. "May I speak to you in private?"

You walk a short ways away, curious to hear what the Eldritch has to say.

"I… do not think this was fair." She begins. "You promised to help me, but you did more, and you nearly…" Tindalos looks immensely guilty, and you recall the moment the Sealed Goddess had a hold on you. "You nearly perished. I will repay you, one day. I promise."

"Tinny, you don't have to—"

"Yes. I do. Speaking in the emotional sense." She says, and for a moment you think you see a smile on her face… perhaps for the first time. It's gone as quick as it came, however. "Goodbye, sister. And thank you."

--

The Tome sees you home rather quickly, and your heart swells as you're accosted by a host of little angels. Tianshi is first, somewhat predictably, though after a moment she looks at you askance.

"Are you alright, mama?" She asks, concern clear on her face. "You feel… different."

"I'm fine, sweetie." Other than the headache, of course, but that's just a nap away. "Better now that I'm home."

"Mm…" She hums, squeezing you almost absentmindedly.

--

You're right, of course. A good nap and some time with the kids is more than enough to dull the headache, and soon you're living life to the fullest on your homestead. Time passes, a birthday is held, more time passes…

And then one day, without warning, you're somewhere unfamiliar.


You're in… it almost looks like the dungeon, but someone took a massive hammer to it, utterly fracturing the place. Massive cracks and fissures snake through the stone, exposing the brilliant light shining in from above.

Wait… brilliant light?

You look up, seeing the unmistakable light of your mother reaching through the fractured mountain. No, not mountain — ravine. This is the place you normally go when you change, but it's… broken. Shattered.

Memories flood into you of the past few days — your headache returned. It was small, at first. Then you suddenly couldn't move your limbs correctly. A simple step forward became a herculean task, as your body simply refused to move without the utmost mental effort on your part.

The others realized something was wrong pretty quickly, and even sent for Tamael when Sybil and Liane couldn't figure out what was wrong with you. The last thing you remember is lying in your bed, feeling for all the world like a woman coming apart at the seams.

Looking around some more, you spot just the barest hint of a path to follow amidst the cracks and move along it — there's not much else to do, after all. As you move along you notice that some of the fractures reach all the way down into the ravine where you saw your sisters, though it's either silent or empty now.

You don't know how long you wander, but eventually the path leads to the most bizarre thing you've seen so far — what appears to be an atelier or study, with stained glass windows and a telescope sticking from its roof.

"What the hell?"


Not knowing what else to do, you push open the door and step inside. It's furnished… rather elegantly. It's definitely a study, judging by the tidy bookshelves that line the walls. Whoever made this place really likes the color black, judging by how everything from the carpet to the desk to the little tea table in the middle of the room, just next to the end of the telescope, is some shade of the color.

Sitting in a black leather chair, wearing a flowing black dress and with long black hair, sits a young woman you'd place at maybe twenty years old. At most. As you close the door behind you she breaks her gaze from the little viewport of the telescope, and her ruby lips curve a little in some unrecognizable emotion. Her pink-red eyes seem to stare straight into the core of your being.

"This is your soul, I take it? You should take better care of it."


"I… what?" You ask, utterly baffled.

"Mmm… sit." Before you can even respond a chair materializes behind you and sweeps forward, forcing you to sit opposite the strange young woman. "Do you like tea? What am I saying? Of course you like tea."

A pot of the stuff simply appears there, or was always there, or… you're very confused. The girl skillfully pours you a cup, then makes a spinning motion with her finger. The cup slides swiftly around the edge of the table to rest before you without spilling a single drop.

"It's not real, obviously, but my memory is quite accurate. I find this blend delightful, and I imagine you will too." She tells you as you tentatively take a sip. She's right — it tastes delightful, subtle yet rich, and seems to invigorate your very being. "There, see? It broke my heart when the last leaves died, but Fera utterly refused to make an exception for them. 'They don't grow often enough, they die too easily.' Bah."

"I… Fera?" You ask, still in the throes of the tea. "You know the Goddess of Nature? Wait, who even are you?"

"I…" She says, placing her teacup down and inflating her chest with no small amount of smugness. "… am Hecate."


Silence reigns for a moment before you finally gather your wits enough to ask the obvious question.

"…who?"

"Wha—" Smugness melts into incredulousness in an instant. "Hecate! Goddess of Knowledge and Boundaries, hello? What, you know my sister but not me?"

"I've never heard of you." You reply apologetically. "I… kind of think I might be making you up as I die?"

"Oh, please." She rolls her eyes, still clearly miffed. "You're not dying. Your soul is fracturing. Totally different."

"That… sounds worse?"

"Eh." She makes a wavy motion with her hand. "Souls are pretty self-sufficient. Give it some time and you'll probably fix yourself up. If someone had intentionally ripped it apart and done something to keep the pieces separate you might be in trouble, but you look mostly whole to me. Besides the breaking apart thing, I mean."

"Okay. So… I just need some rest?"

"Oh, no. Souls have trouble doing their thing when you're still alive, so… oh. I guess you are dying." Her face shifts to apologetic. "Sorry."

It… doesn't hit as hard as you thought it might. Maybe because you're still not sure if any of this is real. "Is there nothing I can do?"

"Mmm…" She leans forward, placing her chin atop her hand, and stares at you for a while. "I suppose there's potentially ways to fix this. I'd need to know what happened to you in the first place, though."


"I don't know what happened." You reply, then you recall your encounter with the Sealed Goddess. "Or… I might. Eris tried to rip… whatever it was she put into us out of me."

"Ugh." Hecate shivers. "Don't say that name. It's revolting. Who came up with it?"

"I don't know. I kind of assumed she was born with it?" You say, shrugging. "How do Goddesses get their names?"

"We're born with them, of course. What's this about…" Her face twists. "Eris being a Goddess?"

"You don't know her? The fifth Goddess, youngest of the original five?"

"Excuse me?!" She's back to indignant again. "I'm the youngest of the five! What idiot is filling your head with these lies?!"

This… is going to take some time, you think.

--

"Okay. So… Stars her name is gross… Eris is basically the root of all evil, I've been utterly forgotten by history, and you're my sister's daughter? And I have… so many more nieces." She sighs, leaning back in her chair. "I have so many missed namedays to make up for."

You can't help it. You laugh. "That's what you're worried about?"

"What?" She blushes, crossing her arms. "Justicia always wanted to be a mom, so I always knew I'd get to be an aunt. Who's the lucky guy, by the way?"

"Sorry?"

"Your dad. You know, the man who got her pregnant?" She asks. "You… do know how babies are made, right? I didn't expect to have to be the one to tell you. See, first—"

"I know how babies are made!" You reply. "I have kids, thank you! And… I don't know. I think it might be Eris, but…"

"Oh, right. That… poor Stici." Her face turns mournful for a moment and she takes a sip of tea. "Changing the subject, then. Eris did something to Stici to make you angels turn into monsters under specific circumstances. This piece of her you came across tried to take it back, then got beaten back by… oh."

She laughs. It's somehow both rich and girlish. "I think I remember that. I was still… I suppose you'd say 'asleep' at the time? I felt something absolutely disgusting touch me and whacked it until it went away."

"I suppose if anything could fight off a Goddess it'd be another Goddess." You note. "Thank you for saving me, by the way."

She waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, don't thank me yet. You're still… essentially doomed unless we do something else. Come here."


The table and its accompaniments vanish, and you find yourself lying on a bed in front of the self-proclaimed Goddess. "Hmm… oh, what's this? Feels like… Primordia, but more aggressive? That must be Tiamat."

She pokes your nipple and you squeak in surprise. "What the hell?!"

"Don't you what the hell me, this is where my niece's power is concentrated. Well, here and on the other one." She pokes your other nipple.

"Ah! Stop that!" Then you realize what she must be detecting. "That must be from the rings Eluvi gave me."

"You wear rings on your nipples? I never would have expected it. Stici was always so… prudish. You're not the rebellious daughter, are you? You can tell me, I'm the cool aunt."

"You're the weird aunt."

"Rude." She huffs. "Also stop wriggling, it's hard to read you when you do that."

"Stop touching my nipples and I'll stop wriggling."


"Okay." Hecate says, waving a finger so that the bed becomes a reclining chair. "I see two options that are… more or less the same thing."

"Let's hear them."

"So. You're falling apart." She gestures outside, where you know the fractured ruins of your soul lie. "Normally, you'd be done for. Your soul, knowing that it's fracturing, would force your body to shut down so that it could self-repair. This, obviously, would mean your death."

You nod along to show you're listening. "But! We can abuse your connection to a Goddess in order to…" She coughs a little sheepishly. "Borrow a bit of numen to make you just a little godly, thereby allowing your soul to renew itself without killing you."

"I'm sorry, numen?" You ask.

"Numen is… it's very complicated." She says apologetically. "And no offense, but you're not a Goddess of Knowledge, so we'd be here until you die if I tried to explain exactly what it is to you. Think of it as the bit of us Goddesses that makes us… well, Goddesses. A… divine essence, if I were to really simplify it. That should answer both questions, no?"

You nod once more.

"Alright. So, with my help you'll reach out and snatch a bit of numen from either Stici or your cousin." Goddess, it's weird to think of Tiamat like that, even if it is accurate. "They probably won't even notice, but even if they do I doubt they'll do anything about it. Trust me, they have plenty, and they should recover whatever you take in a couple years or so."

"Why can't I borrow some from you?" You ask.

"Because I'm not entirely sure what I am to you. Besides your aunt, I mean." She pauses, then explains. "I'm sure it hasn't escaped you how odd it is that I'm here at all, no? There are plenty of possible answers — I died and you're my reincarnation, someone grafted me onto you at some point, pure chance… that last one is unlikely, but still. If it turns out I'm essential to you existing and give you part of me, it may have… catastrophic side effects."

"I… Goddesses can die? If I were your reincarnation, wouldn't I be a Goddess too?"

"Ha! No. We have the same sorts of souls you do, my lovely niece. Our bodies are different. If I had time I'd give you the whole story of how everything came to be, but from the look of things outside we don't."

You swallow.

"So! You've gotta pick between the two of them. In the future you might be able to refine the numen you get or even snatch it from the one you leave untouched, but for now we'll stick with the one. This is already basically a hail mary, no need to get greedy and ruin it."

"I… what will happen to me? Past just… not dying, I mean."

She frowns, thinking. "Well… and I'm mostly speculating here so don't get too mad at me if I'm wrong, but I expect you'll develop some sort of expression of divine power based on a mix of who you are now and the Goddess you draw from. It might change how you look a bit, too — if your description of Tiamat is accurate, I imagine you'll get a few reptilian features. Nothing complete like her descendants have, but perhaps some scales, claws, slitted pupils… if you refine that power more you'll probably experience more extreme changes."

She pauses. "Of course, if you want to look more like a… dragon, you called them? If you want to look more like a dragon you can probably force that level of change quickly. A lot of this will ride on your perception of who you want to be."

"Will they have any sort of… hold over me?" You ask. "Since I have their numen?"

"No." She shakes her head firmly. "If we did this wrong, then perhaps… but I'm the Goddess of Boundaries, remember? Once I establish a boundary between you and them, that numen will be yours, not theirs. It's… again, not enough time to elaborate."

"Alright." You take a deep breath. "I choose…"


"Justicia. She's… she's my mother, and I think she'd give it willingly if she knew." You say after a second's consideration.

"She would." Hecate says with a smile. "Alright. Close your eyes and take my hands."

You do as she says. Her hands are smaller than yours, though you can still feel power absolutely radiate through them and into you. "Now… deep breaths, and—"

--

You're standing on the sun. It's… not as hot as you thought it would be, honestly, or as bright, but somehow you know it's the sun. Curiously, clouds drift across its golden surface, making for a heavenly vision that's somehow even more pure and beautiful than the actual Heaven. And there, standing not ten feet in front of you, is a figure you recognize, despite only having seen her a few times in your memories.


Your breath catches, which you think is weird because you're not technically a body right now. Something tells you Hecate could probably explain it, but she's not with you at the moment. You realize that your Mother can't actually see you — her eyes are closed and she's just… floating there. This is probably just a manifestation of her numen, which means…

You move forward a few steps, then a few more, then reach out…

A single fingertip brushes against her for but the barest sliver of a second, but you feel power radiate through you in a near-overwhelming surge. Order, perfect and complete, asserts itself over your very being, and you find yourself becoming a piece in a greater—

--

"Woops!" Hecate's voice snaps you out of the all-encompassing sensation and you find yourself back in the study. The power of Order no longer threatens to make you an insignificant part of it, and instead hovers in a little golden ball above your aunt's open palm. "That was close. You might be a bit too alike to Stici in nature for that to have been safe, but… well, it worked out."

"What… what now?" You ask, shaking a bit from the near-mind consuming experience.

"Mmm… we give you a name." She says cheerfully.


"I already have a name." You remind her.

"Sure, but you can have two." She says. "Mortals do it all the time, though their names are usually just family ones. There's a little power behind something like that, especially if a family can hold onto a name for a long time, but nothing really to take note of."

"Your name, however, will be the real deal. An establishment of the boundaries of who you are, of what you wish to be, handed to you by the Goddess of Boundaries herself. I'll go ahead and say that between this and saving your life that I've made up for missing so many birthdays."

"Do I get a say in what it is?"

"Mmm… some." She replies. "You can't just make up a name like this, it has to mean something. Like Eris — chaos, discord, corruption, all rolled into one slimy ball."

"I hate slimes." You say without thinking.

"Slime is gross." She agrees. "Anyways, I'll give you a few to pick from. I'm the expert, after all~"

Her eyes examine you critically again. "Mmm… Callipygia? No, you've got a nice butt but not that nice…"

"Rude."

"Truthful. That's a powerful name, you know. It's only for the person with the best butt. Anyways, Aglaos would fit — radiant. Alexeatis, averter of evil… Dione is probably pushing it, don't want reality to throw a fit… Empyrios, meaning heavenly… Urania, meaning celestial… Erototokos, bearer of love… yes, I think any of those would work, considering what we're dealing with."


"…can we mix Empyria and Erototokos?" You ask. The Heavenly Bearer of Love kind of has a nice ring to it…

A thin finger pokes your forehead. "Look at you, greedy brat. I should name you Pluton just for that."

"You missed a lot of birthdays, you know."

"…fine." She pretends to look down on your avarice, but you see a smile tug at her lips regardless. "I, Hecate, Keeper of the Boundary, do hereby grant you the name Ariel Empyria Erototokos."

You shiver as you feel the weight of your sudden miniscule divinity seep into you, flowing throughout your essence like a river.

Hecate nods. "Alright, now focus. The name has some power on its own, but you define it as much as it defines you. Take hold of it, guide it… and become."

Ariel has achieved the first steps of Apotheosis, converting her Category Aspect into the following:

Numenotic Overflow

Ariel has fused herself with the powers of the Goddesses, causing her to radiate divine energy into her surroundings. This grants her a Numen pool of (2 Tier - 4). Additionally, while harmless, this overflow of power does stir the souls of those around and descended from her, causing them to inherit some of her prodigious growth — in other words, this is a narrative justification for why her harem and children are keeping pace with her evolution to some extent. What other effects this may have in the long term remain to be seen…

Hod: Call upon the Divine power within you to radiate celestial beauty. At the end of the round, Ariel may activate this Advantage to force all foes to make a Mental save against her Social. Those who fail suffer (Tier x 4) Lust and a -4 penalty to their actions for a round. 2 Numen.


Majesty, splendor, glory, beauty. It might be arrogant, but that is what you feel defines your abilites — it hasn't escaped your notice that you happen to seduce women basically by accident now. May as well hone that into your divine power.

As your will forces the power to take shape, a variety of visions appear before you, similar to those you're used to in this place.

The first is of an angelic mother, surrounded by those she has laid with and brought into the world… or in many cases, both. Her mere presence calms and restores those around her, and with effort she can force her love to shield them.

The second is a wrathful angel descending upon those who dared to harm her family. Her vengeance is swift and deadly, and with effort her charges may utilize her wrath as their own.

The third is of an angelic queen, whose every exertion of power empowers her courtly harem. In her you see the simple truth that it is better to be loved than feared, by far.

The fourth is of a scion of Law, whose command of your Mother's authority exceeds the dreams of all but the strongest of angels. At her word, reality twists to deny the magics of her foes purchase, bleeding their mental faculties from the strain so that they may be apprehended with minimal fuss.


Your mind wanders and twists itself into knots as you contemplate who and what you are. A mother, a lover, a daugher, a ward, a fighter, a scout… all of these and more are pieces, but not the whole.

So what is the whole?

Slowly, surely, Ariel Empyria Erototokos takes form. For some reason, the Tome of the Traveler and its endless starry skies come to mind — without it, you wouldn't have been able to visit your children so often in the earlier days.

You still remember that first time you left your first generation to reach Skask, and how silly you felt when you realized you could just… teleport back. How you saw Zaphi and her sister, your eldest two, alone beneath that starry night sky.

A black sky, as black as your wings, save for little pinpricks of light. Some Justicians believe every star is an angel, and that every time a star falls its corresponding angel Falls as well. That's not true, of course, but you can't help but picture your little girls as little stars in the night sky. Your little stars, beautiful and brilliant in their own ways.

Speaking of beautiful, you can't help but think back to your mother — some part of you feels more connected to her than before. Unsurprising, considering what's happened, but you can't help but wish you could show that in some way. Maybe a bit of sunlight, the sun peaking just over the horizon?

The sun. Gold. Your favorite color, all because the woman who raised you had the most lovely golden hair you've ever seen. A bit of that gold would be nice, if only as a sign of your love for her… and your other favorite sister, now that you think about it.

You become.


One final change takes place. As Ariel is now far beyond passing herself as an ordinary angel, False Prophet is converted into Heroic Reputation.

Heroic Reputation: While Ariel began her journey as a Fallen, her appearance and behavior do not match that descriptor any longer. She no longer suffers a -5 to Social rolls against Devils or Angels, nor does she gain the equivalent bonus to convince others she is still one of Justicia's pure. Instead she finds that, outside of areas where she is completely unknown or nearly so, people will always be willing to at least give her the benefit of the doubt, granting her a 2 to all Social rolls made with honest or pure intentions.


Justicia

Location: The Hall of Mourning

Date: ???

You stare at the statuette in your hands, brushing a finger across it as you ruminate on your thoughts, as you always do. If only you could turn back time, and tell her how much you love her before it became too late. If only you'd spent more time with her — of all your daughters, you saw her the least, and through no fault of hers. If only she didn't look so much like her si…

…perhaps you might have been able to stomach looking her in the face.

Unfortunately, she does resemble Seraphina, in every possible way. You may not have raised Sera for her first few years, but the similarities became obvious even a few years into little Ariel's life. Her black hair, her ebon wings, her silver-white eyes, that little quirk of her lips when she's getting up to trouble, all of it a perfect reflection of your eldest child. It broke your heart to hand her off to Mika, but what else could you do? Children are smarter than most realize. It was only a matter of time before Ariel felt the weight of another behind your gaze, and that is no burden any child should bear.

That's what you tell yourself, at least. You can't help but wonder what Sera would think, if she knew. Does she know? You've never been certain how aware she is of those who Fall, though you know from scattered reports that she apparently holds some affection for the Fallen. It's at least comforting to know she still cares for them, even warped as she is now.

You wrap your arms around yourself, inadvertently hugging the latest reminder of your failure as a mother to your chest as your radiant heels click on the polished tiles, providing the only noise in this most secret hall. You deliberately avoid looking at the walls as you make your way to the end of the hall, finally reaching your destination after minutes of walking.

Despite your best attempts not to, you still end up reading every name out of the corner of your eye along the way. Tamael, My Brilliant Teacher; Veshael, My Swift Protector; Kivael, my Brave Little Feather; Helel, My Morning Star. A little sob escapes your throat at the sight of each and every one, exposed to suffering beyond suffering for the failings of their forebears.

So you made this lonely memorial for them. Each and every one, even Helel, though you know Mikael would hate you if she knew. For all her faults, despite everything she has done, the First to Fall is still your daughter, and you can't help but weep for what she became, and what it cost her.

You cannot help but wonder what they would think, if they knew you had this place tucked away. Nothing good, more than likely, and you certainly cannot blame them for that. To this day you wake up in cold sweat every morning at the memory of their terror, their absolute despair as you abandoned them to the madness your sister infected them with despite your and Seraphina's best efforts. Still, the alternative is to allow Eris's fragments another attempt at your numen, and that cannot be allowed. No matter the cost, no matter how much they hate you, you will never allow that abomination to gain control over Order so that she may beckon that which she seeks. Her precious Sibboleth.

The name sends shivers up your spine, an instinctual unease that is as alien to a goddess as despair once was, and yet here you are, both uneasy and despondent. You shake the thoughts away, tears pricking at your eyes, and look down at the latest statuette.

It took you some time to find something for her wings and hair. In the end, you asked little Kynael for some of that ink she dyed her wings with and soaked them in that. A little smile touches your lips as you remember Mikael telling you about that particular escapade, and the fact that Kynael clearly hasn't entirely abandoned the idea brings a smile to your face.

You're well aware that Samael never forgave Seraphina, and that she holds a grudge for that act of abandonment still — and likely forever will. Your black-winged children have born the brunt of your fourth eldest's ire, none moreso than Ariel. If there is anything you feel you must apologize to her for besides her Fall, it's failing to rein Samael in. A little self-deprecating laugh escapes your lips — failing to rein in one of the eldest is what caused this entire mess in the first place. Truly, you are a failure of a mother.

An empty pedestal stands before you, waiting for its unfortunate icon. For a moment you refuse to look, the irrational part of your mind insisting that so long as you don't acknowledge it, don't acknowledge that you failed her, that it isn't true. It's a ritual of sorts you've repeated every time you've come here, and one you'll likely repeat a thousand more times. Eris's final, subtle act of spite and cruelty truly was a masterstroke.

Finally, you gather yourself and place Ariel next to her siblings. Yet another in a long line of your daughters you have failed. To her right lie another dozen empty spots, for you know she won't be the last. You take one last moment to glance at the inscription — or rather, where the inscription should be. You couldn't come up with one for her, just as you could not for Seraphina. It just feels… wrong, in a way, to boil either of them down to a little phrase. A bit of favoritism, perhaps, but one you owe them both.

Memories of her early life flash in your mind — the little wrinkled face of a newborn, her toothless smile when you tugged her from her swaddling, the way her silver eyes reflected your own smile back at you, the way she hid behind the curtains to surprise you when you stepped out.

With a final, shuddering sob, you say a final farewell to the daughter you failed.

"Goodbye, Ariel. I love you."


???

Location: The End of You

Date: ???

You look down in horror at the thing you once called your daughter, her every feature twisted in a horrible mockery of everything she once stood for. Certainly, on the surface she looks just like your little girl, her silver-blonde hair inherited from her mother, her once-innocent eyes, her ruby-red lips curved into an elegant smile. The obsessive mania in her eyes is now a parody of love, one final insult from her wretched gr…

"Come now, child. Really, what did you expect?" She asks, her eyes alight with sadistic glee. "Did you think a single generation was enough to remove my gifts? It's a pity I couldn't get the other, but then it's only a matter of time, mm?"

Her gaze turns to her twin, making the young woman tighten her hand on her blade. "I knew I should have killed you." She hisses through clenched teeth. "I knew it was a mistake to let you leave."

Her words are like knives through your heart, the knowledge that two sisters who were once so close are now so irreparably separated.

"Wrath, lust, it's all the same." The thing wearing your daughter laughs. "Yes, I think I'll have you soon enough, my girl. Obsession has ever been my gift to you and yours. Hate works just as well as love."

"…… …… of course, you could always just end it. But we both know you don't have the heart."

She's right, and you know it. Even if it's the best way, even if not doing so would cause a thousand times the suffering, you don't have the heart to kill your own daughter. So you do the only other thing you can, and draw upon what knowledge you were able to… "…in my Name—"

…… is the only one to realize what you're doing, and it tears your heart in half to listen to the raw despair in her voice as she screams at you not to go through with it. Doing your best to tune it out, to turn your back on everything you know once again, you dive downward, grasping the heart of your daughter despite knowing full well the thing you're exposing yourself to.

A familiar feeling surges into your mind, madness, desire, obsession, cruelty, all of it rolled into one incoherent mass that stabs through to the very core of YOU. You cling desperately to who you are, doing your utmost to hold onto the memories you hold most dear even against the onslaught of your creator's deluge of madness.

Your first memories, you and your sisters trapped with the thing that made you

Running away, losing your littlest sister in the chase

Your other sister's fury at having lost one of the only things she loves

Meeting her for the first time

Her giving you your name, finally washing away the weapon you were meant to be

Giving your virginity to the woman you love more than anything in the world

The birth of your twins, the sound of their first cries filling you with a joy that you cannot describe

Their first steps, each looking at you with wariness, expectance, hope, and pride

So on and so forth do your memories flow, tightening around your sense of self. Even if you fall here, even if you lose it all, at least you'll still have those. With all of your willpower you force yourself to finish the words, sealing your change in metaphorical stone.

"My Name, now and forevermore, is—"


Seraphiel

You hug your mother, feeling very strange to be the one comforting Sybil instead of the other way around. Maybe it's just part of being an adult — your mother now trusts you enough to show that level of vulnerability. Normally a realization like this would make your heart flutter, but current circumstances provide something of a barrier to that.

"It's alright, mother. She'll be fine." You reassure her as she cries gently in your embrace. "Mama's strong."

"I should have insisted we visit her sister sooner." Sybil says, her voice slightly muffled against your robes. "If I had…"

"If you had, Aunt Tamael might not have noticed anything wrong." You assure her, voice soft. "You heard her. This was a subtle wound that grew worse over time. You can't keep blaming yourself, mother."

Most of the group who went with mama into the dungeon blame themselves to some degree. It's understandable, if somewhat frustrating — what do they expect they could have done against a fragment of Eris herself? Mama wouldn't blame them at all, especially since she insisted on continuing on herself, so why should anyone else?

You cannot help but share some of their worry despite your words, however — Aunt Tamael stated she has never seen a wound like this one, and though she feigned hope in being able to cure it you can tell she did not truly believe it. If Ariel is going to recover, it will be on her own merits.

Which, incidentally, seems to be likely. After all, the change monsters undergo is something of a drastic process, and your sire's feathery cocoon is a telltale sign she's undergoing it at the moment. If anything can fix what ails her, it's that. Fortunately Aunt Asteria confirmed it is safe to move someone in the throes of the change, so you relocated your sire to her room — Goddess knows that leaving her outside where she collapsed isn't likely to help her constitution.

So you wait, and console, wait some more, cycling in and out of your sire's room, holding onto hope so that your mother, sisters, and aunts can share in it. Every so often you visit her on your own, clutching the doll she gave you as a child and wishing you could hold her hand.

Finally, after what feels like an age but is likely only perhaps two days since her collapse, your hope is rewarded.


Primordia

The mother hums a melody to her worn-out daughter, a repetition of a ritual that has gone on for centuries now. Around the two lies a catastrophic wasteland, one born of flame, frost, acid, and every other destructive element in Gaea, haphazardly thrown around with a rage mortals couldn't even begin to grasp. Silence weighs over the land like a physical thing, a stark contrast to the destructive cacophony that reigned over the land just a scant few hours ago.

All told, it's a rather mild scene in comparison to what it could have been. Tia's involuntary tantrums were much worse early on, and Primordia still possesses the scars to prove it. Not that she couldn't get rid of them if she wished, but she long ago decided to keep them as a testament to how far she and her daughter have come together.

A little huff and a blossom of burning snow catches her attention and she looks down, seeing Tia's pouting face. "What's wrong now, my little ember?"

"… you don't have to stay the whole time." Tia replies. It's a part of the ritual, really, something she says after every rampage, and Primordia answers as she always does.

"But I want to stay the whole time."

The Dragonsire's tail thuds into the earth, breaking the silence with a thundering crack as the ground splits. Primordia's feels her lips tug upwards into a smile as her little girl turns so that she cannot see the joy upon her own face. She's such a dishonest child, her little spark, but that is simply part of her charm. Primordia basks in this rare moment of peace with her darling daughter, happy to at least be able to share this moment with her—

Then something changes in the world. It's faint, but the feeling is unmistakable — numen. A new numen, one never manifested. It cannot be. Her body goes stiff as Tia's does the same. Both goddesses reach out to brush their divine senses against this new divinity, hoping against hope that their darkest fear has not become manifest—

—oh. It's a little gust, nothing more. The tiniest snowflake atop a mountain… and more importantly, it is Love.

A sigh of relief escapes both of their lips in unison. This was not some new manifestation of Eris born of her fragments, as they feared. The Goddess of Discord was no longer capable of love, or anything even remotely like it. Obsession came closest, followed by a twisted sort of pride in her works. Self-love, perhaps, but even that felt beyond her sister when they'd last met.

Regardless — a new divinity. No matter how small, this meant… many things.

The mother goes back to humming and brushing her daughter's hair, contemplating what this little ember of love will grow into.


Annabelle

Anna drums her fingers on the bartop as she reads over the latest reports. "Anything new?

The former Inquisitor's head jerks up and she looks into the curious eyes of Vitana, the elven proprietress of the Silver Key. The silver-haired vixen was often the object of Anna's nightly fantasies, something helped along by her habit of keeping her best drinks on the bottom shelf — meaning she often had to bend over to retrieve them. Doubtless it was an intentional gambit to sell more of the expensive stuff on the elf's part — nobody as old as your average elf is that clueless.

"Nothing worth mentioning." Anna answers, tossing the sheaf of paper aside. "Pretty damn peaceful, in fact. Might run us both out of business soon."

Vitana throws her head back in laughter. "Please. Your lot will find some way to stir up trouble deeper in the dungeon and we'll be swimming in work soon enough. I've seen it happen countless times."

"I don't doubt it, granny."

"I am a grandmother, in fact." Vitana winks. "You know that blonde that hangs around the angel?"

"No." Anna mutters in disbelief. "She's not—"

The elf grins a sharklike grin. "You're right, she's not. But I had you going for a second, didn't I?"

The ranger rolls her eyes and glances out the nearest window — a habit she developed back when she hunted the monsters the Inquisition calls Mockeries. You never knew when one of those things had wrangled the entire town against you when your back was turned.

What she sees out the window makes her jaw drop.


Seraphiel

Sera stares, awestruck at the sky.

Mere minutes earlier, it had been a gentle, slightly cloudy blue. Now, however it was struck through with four streaks of night-black which seem to stretch out to the horizon and beyond. Twinkles of gold and blue stars shine in new night sky, forming constellations that make her heart skip a beat for a reason she can't quite place.

The young Fallen looks at the source of the streaks, the near-blinding radiance of her sire still sleeping peacefully despite having somehow rocketed herself through the roof of the cottage.

The streaks are gone just as soon as they appeared, having been in the world for only a scant few seconds, but the entire homestead still gazes at her sire in near-religious awe as she floats back down through the hole after her literal — and, Sera suspects, metaphorical — ascension.

Later, and only privately, Seraphiel would take pride in how she was the first to recover and rush to Ariel's side.


Ariel

Everything hurts. Your head hurts, your back hurts, your boobs hurt, your butt hurts, your fingers hurt, your insides hurt... you feel like someone threw you through a building or something after they already beat the daylights out of you.

"Mgmgmmr…" You manage to mumble, immediately regretting it as your throat spasms in pain. "MMG!"

You're pretty sure you hear someone saying… something, but everything is a confused blur of agony that you can't make out who they are or what they're speaking. Also who the hell opened your window and let in all this light? It's too much light and your eyes hurt.

Now there's WAY too much noise, and touching, and while normally you like touching right now you hurt and it hurts so you wish they'd stop. Thankfully, your moans of pain seem to get the message across and the touching abates, leaving you with marginally less suffering than before.

Through the metaphorical and literal haze you piece together a couple of facts. One, you're alive. That's good, because if you weren't just hallucinating Hecate then her little trick probably worked. Two, you're awake, because you can kind of vaguely recognize the smell of your room. Three, Hecate… isn't some voice in your head at the moment, which is either a good or bad sign.

Four, everything hurts.


You passed out at some point, which is good because dream pain is more tolerable than real pain. When you reawaken you find yourself able to actually see once more, which is a good sign. Someone is on your chest, which doesn't hurt as much as it did, so that's nice.

Reflexively, you reach up to brush their hair. Fluffy, warm… is that the sound of a wagging tail?

Fenri looks up, her ice-blue eyes staring at you in joy and relief. Instead of speaking, she rubs her face into your chest over and over. You open your mouth to coo assurances to your puppy, but all that comes out is a dry croak. She stops her rubbing, then cocks her head at you curiously before putting it together.

The puppy is gone and back before you even realize it, pouring water into your desert-dry mouth with surprising deftness. You cough a little at points, causing her to stop, but once you reassure her you're fine she continues.

"Thank you, puppy." You manage to rasp after a few sessions of this. Her tail wags happily and she crawls into bed with you, nestling against your body and closing her eyes happily.

Honestly, as far as first encounters after a near-death experience? This is probably one of the best.


When you wake once more there's no sign of Fenri, leaving a puppy-shaped hole in your bedspace and your fragile heart. For some reason this is basically the single worst thing you can remember happening to you, and for a moment you think you're going to cry…

…then you spot the butt. It's a very good butt, cloaked by robes in a way that still manages to outline its shapeliness. Do you grab the butt?

You do the only logical thing and reach out to grab the butt. You try to use both hands but get dizzy, so instead you settle for reaching with one. As soon as you get a gropeful of booty you realize that you may have just made an error in judgment. You recognize all your lovers' rears by touch at this point, but this butt is entirely new to you.

It's the squeak of shock that really hammers it home. Quickly, you retrieve your groping hand and stuff it beneath the covers, closing your eyes to feign sleep.

"Ariel!" A mortified Tamael hisses. From the whir in the air you can tell she must have whirled around very quickly. "Did you just grope me?!"

"…no?" You answer, forgetting that you're pretending to sleep.


"Honestly!" Your sister grouses for… not the first time. Counting is hard right now. "Two days unconscious, and the first thing you do when semi-lucid is harass me!"

"…didn't know it was you." You mumble as she swaps a wet cloth on your forehead.

"Oh, and that makes it better?" She scoffs. "You're still burning up, Ariel. How you can even think about sex right now is beyond me."

"Shouldn't have such a nice butt." You tell her, entirely truthfully. You can hardly be blamed for this, it's just not reasonable. What, you're supposed to not grab a butt right in front of you? Just because you're running a little fever?

"I—" She pauses, then takes a deep breath. "You are lucky I raised three children who were more of a nuisance than you, little sister. Now hold still, brat."

You consider wriggling just to be spiteful, but decide against it. Instead, you ask questions, which is what you usually do when you talk to Tamael and is therefore the logical thing to do right now. "Why are you in my house?"

"Why do you think?" She huffs. "Poor Zaphkiel nearly broke down my door when she heard you'd collapsed, and Maribelle wasn't far behind her. I've been here since."

"Oh." You say, feeling guilt settle into your breast. It mingles with the pain, making it pain-guilt, which is worse than either one on its own.

"Yes, oh." She answers, finishing what you only now realize was a spell. "You're… looking better." Tamael says cautiously. "But you're going to stay in bed for another few days at the very least, and if you even think about arguing with me on that point I will fly to Heaven and get Mikael to tan your rear six different ways."

You're silent, but jut your jaw out just a bit in the barest bit of defiance, hoping she won't actually notice. She does, but instead of punishing you for it she just sighs and lays her forehead against yours.

"You are the biggest pain." She says quietly. "I tell you to be careful and what do you do? Run off and pick a fight with the Sealed Goddess."

"…didn't mean to…" You mutter, distinctly aware of the tears falling on your cheeks from above.

"I know you didn't." She says, shuddering. "But that doesn't change what happened. For Mother's sake, Ariel, I thought you were going to die."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. It's… I won't say it's okay, because it's not, but I can't fault you for something beyond your control. Just… stay safe in the future. I'm not sure if we can age from worry like mortals can, but if I go grey because of you I'll never let you live it down."


"If you grope me I'll bite you." Fi warns as she slowly trickles water into your mouth. "Tamael says no letting you have fun until you're fully recovered."

"I might like it if you bit—mbghlrb!." You try to flirt, but she just pours more water into your mouth to force you to be quiet.

"Hush. I'm taking care of you, that means you listen to me." She says, passing the empty waterskin to Vati, who obediently tucks it away. "No fun allowed."

"Hmph." You pout and roll over.

A pair of giggles sound from behind you, and your cheeks burn with what will one day be vengeance. Once you're better she'll remember why teasing you is a bad idea. And Vati… you dunno yet. Maybe you'll ground her for making fun of her mama. That'll teach her.

"Hey, where'd your wings go anyways?"

What?

--

Being rubbed down instead of taking a bath would be kind of sexy normally, but sitting up like this makes you woozy. Besides, both Liane and Sybil threatened some nonspecific punishment if you try any funny business.

"You know, I think this is the first time I've seen your bare back." Liane marvels. "I approve, by the way."

"I want my wings." You pout.

"You may release them when we have finished cleaning you." Sybil says. "It is far easier to do so without them."

"They do make it a bit hard to focus." Liane agrees. "Even… no, especially because they are beautiful."

Your wings being called lovely makes your preen a little. Very little, considering you still feel like a wyrm chewed on you for a bit before spitting you back out, but still.

You discovered shortly after Fi's visit that your wings now work like your halo — with a bit of willpower they flare to life from your back, resplendent with images of a fantastical night sky. They're not fully physical anymore, but you can feel them when you run your hands through them. They shift from feeling like cool or warm breeze, depending on whichever you feel would be more comfortable at the time.

None has found this new development in your anatomy more fascinating than Eluviendis, who has to be physically restrained to prevent her from moving you onto her hoard so she can keep watch over you there.

More than once she's snuck into your room and asked you to show her your wings, which you always oblige. You get the feeling she'd stare at them all day if you let her.

In fact, once both Liane and Sybil have cleaned you up, your dragonling seizes upon the opportunity once more.

"Wings?" She asks, eyes wide with anticipation. You oblige her and marvel at the wonder in her gaze for a while.


Asteria sighs as she stares at the tarp currently covering a hole in your roof. "You couldn't have just woken up normally?"

"Of course not. You don't work hard enough around here." You tease as she rubs your forehead in odd little circles with her thumb. Camiel and Ophelia both sit on either side of the two of you, holding your hands. "Why are you rubbing like that?"

"Hm? Ah, sorry. Do you dislike it?"

"No, it's just… I've never had someone do this for me."

She smiles and nods. "It's… often, when a young minotaur grows ill, her horns ache. I found rubbing like this helps."

"Oh." You close your eyes. "It feels nice."

"Hm." She intones, though perhaps 'rumbles' is a better word. "Do you know what my name means?"

"No." You tell her, truthfully.

"It means 'starry.'" She tells you, smiling. "I never put much stock into those who feel names are prophetic or powerful in their own way, but you make me wonder."

Io, who has so far been sitting in the corner, writes something in her little notebook with a frenzy you normally attribute to scalekin after treasure.

--

Echo pokes your side. "Does this hurt?"

"Yes."

"Interesting. How about this?" Your cheek is next.

"No."

"Fascinating. How about here?" This time she pinches your little toe, somehow manipulating her slime so it's firmer than normal.

"Ow! Yes!"

"Oh, good. If it didn't I would have assumed amputation is necessary."

"Amputation!" Signali says cheerfully, pulling her own foot off to emphasize. "The removal of a limb!"

"Exactly, Signali!" Echo claps her hands delightedly. "But it's rather more permanent for those without our makeup, I'm afraid…"

You don't even have the energy to protest this slimy nonsense.


"Here, mama. Chicken broth. It's good for recovery. I've even added a few sprigs of—" Mei lists a variety of herbs and spices you've never heard of despite being several orders of magnitude her senior.

"Tianshi, if you do not get out from under that bed then the Goddesses themselves will not save you from me." Ju warns her second daughter. Tia grumbles but slinks out from beneath you. Ju sighs in exasperation, then looks at you severely. "I have come to realize our daughters' many behavioral issues stem from you."

"If fhat sho?" You ask through the wooden spoon Mei has stuffed into your mouth. You don't know about its medicinal properties, but the soup does taste pretty good if nothing else.

"Yes. Liangyu insists on running around the world and getting into trouble." That earns a 'pffft' from the Fallen in question. "You insist on getting into fights with Goddesses. Tianshi won't stop being a brat. You encourage her."

"I don't encourage her!" You protest. "I spanked her that one time!"

If there were an eye rolling contest, Ju would have just won it. "Please, she's been trying to work out a way to get you to 'punish' her all over again since."

"That's not true." Tianshi sputters, her cheeks crimson.

"Do not call me a liar, Tianshi." Her mother warns.

"Yeah, don't call mom a liar, Tianshi." Astel grins at her sister's misfortune from your bedside.

"The pot calls the kettle black." Jeniel adds.

"Wait, does that mean we're calling mom a liar?" Ciel asks.

"You three stop crowding mother." Ava says, brushing them gently aside. "You're sure you feel better?"

"See? This one takes after me." Ju says proudly. "All duty and concern."

"Ego, too." Lia mumbles just out of her mother's earshot, grinning as the triplets snicker in unison.


Sera, Mary, and Zaphi spend their time with you just holding onto you as if they're never going to let go. It… makes you feel pretty guilty, truthfully.

--

"Mama, I brought you a special friend~!" Soniel's angelic yet devilish voice sends a chill down your spine.

"No." You mutter. Surely not. Not while you can't defend yourself against It.

Evara snort-laughs at the expression on your face. "Soni, sweetie, that was mean."

"Just kidding~" Soni shuts the door behind her, then trots over to plant a kiss on your cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"I was fine until a few seconds ago." You grumble at her. She giggles, clearly delighting in tormenting you. Fiona, meanwhile, wriggles herself into your side and doesn't seem to intend on leaving any time soon.

Eva repeats her daughter's kiss, though on your other cheek. "Good. I don't plan on burying a second wife."

"You were married before?" Soni asks, surprised.

"A long time ago." Eva says with a sad smile. "Before your mama was even born, in fact."

"Is this the human you told me about?" You ask her, recalling her tale of why she left her homeland, and she nods.

"Even knowing it was bound to happen… it isn't something you're ever ready for." She leans in close, suddenly serious. "So don't you dare almost die on me again."

The look in her eye makes you think Fiona might get a bit more from her mother than you ever realized.

--

"Cleanup crew!" Valariel's cheerful voice calls as she and her mother press into the room. Even without being sick you'd have been flabbergasted at how quickly they get your room sparkling. "Done! Time for our fee!"

Fee?

"Vala, darling, I don't think—" Ilyen begins, but before she can finish her daughter has seized her hand and leapt into bed with you, dragging Ilyen along.

You squirm a little to get more comfortable, then happily settle into the maid family embrace.

--

"I wasn't worried about you." You're pretty sure Remi's terrible skill at lying must come from you.

"She cried the entire time." Kira helpfully betrays her sister to you.

"It was raining!" Remi shrieks, her face as red as Kira's wings.

"No it wasn't." Akael also betrays her sister. "Linnie had to rock her to sleep the first day."

"No she didn't!" Poor Remiel is looking more and more mortified, and Adalinda reaches out to hug her dishonest sister.

"Mama, can you show me your wings?" Ivule asks, as singleminded as her mother. "Just for a little while?"

--

You stare at a bouquet of pink tulips.

"Tadah! They bloomed after you got sick." Luna says as she places the flowers on your bedside stand. "Zuri helped me pick them. It was either these or the sunflowers, but I thought since you have those starry wings these might look better."

"The squirrels attempted to steal them." Zuri informs you. "They have been removed."

That's… unsettling.

--

Bryn and Sigrun sit in your lap with Estelle by your side. You've recovered enough now that sitting up no longer makes you dizzy, thankfully.

Estelle has a storybook open and is reading it to the utterly enraptured toddlers, and even you have to admit that she's rather good at it. She's got an excellent grasp of dramatic tension and what sorts of voices to give her characters, and for a moment you recall an old play you saw performed… oh, ages ago.

"Again!" Bryn demands when her older sister finishes, Sigrun nodding her agreement.

Ulfhild and Merin chuckle from their seats beside the bed. "What I wouldn't have given to have you when this one was growing up." The former tells Estelle.

--

You're lying alone when a scaly intruder slithers into the covers with you, her massive wings wrapping around you along with her arms.

"Kali?" You mumble, suddenly very sleepy. "Wass wrong?" Weird, it's getting hard to think straight.

"You've been up all day." The dark-scaled scalekin says simply. "Aunt Tamael says you need to sleep."

Did she… are you being…?


Kaliyah

You stare at your mother as she drifts to sleep. Technically speaking you weren't told to do this, but you overheard Aunt Tamael saying Ariel needs to sleep and that everyone crowding around her is preventing that.

You may be young, but it isn't hard to piece together how close your mother came to dying. If that happened… well, you don't know how you'd react, but you're sure it wouldn't be good for anyone else. If rest is what she needs now, rest is what she'll get.

Your mom's breathing becomes soft and rhythmic and you pull her closer, as if to shield her from anything else that dares harm her. A stupid notion, and you know it — anything strong enough to harm her could swat you like a fly. Still, it brings you comfort.

After a moment you slink beneath the bed and retrieve your treasures — various stuffed animals you've collected over your short life. If pressed, you're not sure you could articulate why you find them so fascinating. Everything about them, from how cute they are to the way they feel on your skin and scales, contributes to your love of them.

Tucking them around your mother, you coil around her once more, every bit the dragon atop her hoard. A thud against the door sends you into high alert and your scales rise, dripping more of your venom which then dissolves into your surroundings. After a moment you hear a childish 'ow' and realize that Bryn must have run into the door.

Calming, you wrap your mother in your wings once more and close your eyes, joining her in slumber.


Ariel

Your daughter's venom ensures your slumber is a deep, dreamless one. Which is probably for the best, really — if it turns out her venom were psychedelic or something you might have had a very unpleasant night.

As it is you're only a little frustrated with the precocious little dragon when you wake. Once upon a time being subdued by a monster — a scalekin, no less — might have caused you to panic more than a little bit. Now, though, you've mostly put those fears behind you. Your somewhat regular encounters with Eluvi and Ilyen have long since quelled any fears that may have lingered in you.

It also helps that you beat the living daylights out of the source of your original terror.

More important is the fact that Kali is your baby, even if she's getting far too big to call her that. She'd never intentionally harm you and you know it — in fact, she typically goes out of her way to avoid doing so.

On the other hand, she did drug you to sleep, which isn't a great thing. To add a bit of insult to injury, she's currently drooling on your chest, sleeping as soundly against your bosom as she did when she was an infant. You feel your lips tug into a frown as you poke at the little dragonling's cheeks. They've still got just a bit of baby fat to them — the last physical signs of the child she was a mere few weeks ago.

"Kali." You poke her once more, more insistently this time. She makes a noise that can only be described as a whine, nearly bordering on outright crying, and hugs herself more tightly into you.

It takes a progression from pokes to shaking, but eventually the black-scaled monster opens her eyes sleepily, looks around… and then her eyes widen as she notices the stern look on your face. "Mom?"

"Did you poison me?" You ask her, and a mix of guilt and defensiveness immediately seizes hold of her features.

"It sounds bad if you say it like that." She pouts, resembling her sire more than ever.

"If it sounds bad that's because it is bad, Kali." You say, not willing to give ground to her adorable little pouting face. Those still-a-bit-chubby cheeks are cuter when she puffs them out like the rest of your girls.

She's clearly considering her words. "Aunt Tamael said you needed sleep." She tells you after a long moment of consideration.

"Did she say, specifically, 'Go poison your mother to sleep?'"

"…no." Her voice is now softer, as she begins to sense the momentum of the conversation slipping from her. "I…" Her clawed feet clench and unclench nervously. "I heard her telling the others you need to sleep or you might get sick again."

Your stern mom stare is enough now. Kali does her best to look at you without directly looking into your disapproving eyes, but even so her nervousness becomes more apparent as her wings and tail start to twitch.

"I… appreciate that you wanted to help, sweetie." You sigh, giving her a bit of leeway as her eyes begin to water. "But why didn't you just tell me that my sister says I need rest?"

She blinks, then wipes her eyes with the back of her claw. "I… I don't know. I didn't think about it. I heard her say that, then I thought I could help, so…"

You sigh. "You're almost a teenager now. Not thinking and doing things you shouldn't is something I should have expected." Honestly, this isn't nearly as bad as the time Zaphi was messing around with untested magic. You still cringe in embarrassment when you think about how you… nevermind.

"Come on, up." You tell the scalekin, lifting her from the bed with you. She seems surprised at how strong you are, flailing in the air for a bit as she's lifted from her nest of stuffed animals. "Promise me you won't do anything like this again, to me or anyone else, unless we specifically ask you to."

Kali wriggles in the air, her wings flapping reflexively. "I promise."

"Okay. Now put your toys—"

"My hoard." She huffs.

You sigh once more. "Put your hoard away and let's go find Ilyen. I have a feeling she may be able to shed light on this affair."

--

"I did tell you she may get a bit possessive, didn't I?" Ilyen asks, examining your daughter's scales. Kali, for her part, seems absolutely mortified at her mom and aunt discussing her puberty, but that's just too bad for her. She does need some kind of penalty for this, after all. "Her scales are healthy, if a bit overladen with her element. That's normal."

"So… this was part of her 'possessive' phase?" You ask, looking at where Ilyen is pointing. You notice that Kali's scaled are indeed seeping just enough of her venom that it catches the light.

"Oh, most likely." Ilyen hums as Kali hides her face in her claws. "You said she had you wrapped up when you awoke? Your illness meant you were under threat, and as part of her hoard that naturally set her protective instincts into full swing."

"Part of her hoard, huh?" You ask, trying not to laugh as poor Kali sinks further into herself.

"Yes. It's natural to some degree. Communal kobolds don't know their parents, but smaller clutches tend to get attached to their caretaker even when they aren't as attractive as you."

It's your turn to be embarrassed. Sure, you know you're hot, but to hear someone else say it still kind of feels… weird. Maybe it's because you spent centuries thinking of any such attention as entirely unwanted.

"You remember how I said her scales were overladen?" Ilyen continues, oblivious. "That may also have played a part. She has a need to emit her element, and when she doesn't it can get… uncomfortable." The older scalekin begins addressing your daughter directly. "I suggest you find somewhere private and let loose, so to speak. I know of some oils—"

If your mini-lecture earlier weren't enough, you have no doubt that the humiliation Kali has suffered this day will be more than adequate to dissuade her from any future interfamilial poisonings.


Despite your insistence that you got plenty of sleep, Tamael counter-insisted that drugged sleep doesn't count and forced you back into bed. Or rather, got your wives to harangue you until you get back into bed. Almost wives. Whatever.

"Hey you." You peak from under the covers at your latest cute little caretaker. Sigrun looks up at you in surprise, holding the water you requested from her just a few minutes ago. "Who told you that you could be so cute all the time?"

She frowns, looking down and thinking hard. After a while she points up at you, then leaves the water on your bedside and departs without another word.

Goddess, you love your kids.