Chapter 54: dont belong anywhere (but with u)
Middle Fire Month, 15th Day, 600AGG
'I got redeployed from Evasha for this?' Marith Klein Brauger watched the Theocracy rangers and soldiers mingle with each other in the midst performing their daily routine of waking up, eating, training, exterminating nearby monsters, and…
Protecting the giant tree they were stationed at the base of. Wrong, he shook his head. Protecting was the wrong word—more like watching over.
'What's so special about this thing?' Marith sat a distance away from the ordinary elements of the busy unit. 'First they drag on the war against the Elf Country, and now they're splitting up the Holocaust Scripture?'
"Yo," a paladin with shoulder length blonde-hair plopped herself down next to him. "How's it going, Grumpy?"
"It's Marith," Surshana's sake, he hated this type of person. "I'm keeping watch—nothing interesting."
"Fun stuff," despite his cold response, she made no move to leave. On the bright side, it seemed she was equally content with the silence as he was.
'Hope everyone's alright,' Marith found his thoughts drifting back to his comrades operating in the death trap that was the elven forest. 'Well, they've got Vice-Captain Schoen with them. Even if they run into a Hero-Realm elf, survival shouldn't be impossible.'
The more he deliberated, the worst he felt. What was he doing here? Sitting around, killing the occasional magical beast or demihuman while his brothers and sisters in arms were risking their lives on the frontlines against that piece of shit Elf King.
"Worried about your Scripture?" His head slowly turned to the paladin who was occupying herself with doodling in a journal. "Don't be. Council wouldn't have sent you here if they thought it'll jeopardize whatever mission they're on."
'Who the hell?' Marith frowned. "One of the Six Scriptures? Then you should know that it's not something to be poking into—"
"Dummy," the woman tousled his hair. "There's a couple of us here. As long as we don't blab like school-kids, we're fine."
'So she's a member of the Six Scriptures too,' Marith shoved her hand away and stood up. "Good to know. There's no monsters around right now, so unless you have something important to talk about with me, I'm afraid I'll be taking my leave."
"Just thought it'll be nice getting to know my buddy better. I am the one vanguarding for you all the time, y'know?" She had a point, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
"We have more than enough time to interact during combat," Marith retorted. "I believe I have duties to attend to. I recommend you do the same—"
Tremors running along the ground was all the warning the pair got before a sky-splitting roar shook the entire forest.
"What the hell?" The paladin shot to her feet. "Where did that come—oh."
Marith followed her gaze, dread pooling in his gut when he saw the thing that shocked the veteran Theocracy paladin. 'That's… the tree we were guarding…'
The massive tree their camp had been tasked to protect was alive. Not alive in the sense that mundane plants were alive, but in the 'will-kill-you' sort of way.
Marith gulped. Now that he saw the whole damn thing… wasn't it ridiculously big? It made Dragon Lords look small.
Its trunk had to be nearly a hundred meters tall, minimum. The thrashing tendrils were thicker than a whole Theocracy squadron, and could probably paste one too as an afterthought—
"Snap out of it!" His paladin partner slapped him across the face. "We need to evacuate everybody!"
Marith nodded, training and instinct kicking in where reason failed, inwardly thanking his past self for conserving mana. "『Fly』,『Fly』."
"Oi!" His countrymen ceased their panicking at the sound of the paladin's shout. "Forget all your shit and grab your buddies—we're getting outta here!"
They were immediately met with various yells of acknowledgement as the once disorganized mass quickly departed the area in an orderly manner.
'Strange,' now that they were in the air above the cover of the forest, he noticed the giant tree wasn't attacking the base at all. 'So we weren't the ones who disturbed it?'
Then what did?
His question was quickly answered when a flash of feathery white swooped from the sky—from the top of the tree monster? It couldn't be—and into the middle of the abandoned campsite. Shortly after, as if in pursuit of the unidentified flying object, a wave of colossal roots ripped through the temporary barracks like a rogue wave flipping over flimsy ships.
'So much for an undamaged camp,' the absurdity of the situation occupied his mind for a split second before he shoved it away to focus on more pressing concerns. "Couldn't get a close look at what that was. We should retreat."
"Without any info?" She snorted. "You're gonna need something to tell Commander Lauransan."
'Shit,' he couldn't refute that. Marith doubted the commander would be upset if he failed to provide any information in this case, but as an elite member of the Six Scriptures, he should strive to at least try to return with useful intel. "Fine. We'll go a bit closer, but we're leaving the moment shit gets hot."
"Yes Sir," the paladin mockingly saluted before descending towards the wreckage, ensuring they stood between him and the threat of the tree. Marith was dubious she'd pose any more resistance than a goblin would to him, but the thought was appreciated nonetheless. "Wow, it's tossing trees now."
Distant booms continued to shake the ground in cadence with chunks of the forest ripped and hurled into the sky. Whatever it was fighting, he had a hard time believing said thing was still alive. "Yeah, no. We're leaving and reporting this—"
"Hey!" Marith couldn't believe his eyes. Was that the Lady of Wings? What was she doing so far away from the Draconic Kingdom? "You guys need to get outta here!"
Right. The giant tree—which happened to be a monster of titanic proportions—they had been stationed around was still in the middle of its rampage. Thick tendrils of wood whipped out, brushing past the two Scripture members as the angel narrowly avoided the strikes. "『Fire Storm』!"
Fearsome flames engulfed the roots and burned them to ashes, only for more to rush in and replace them. "『Fire Storm』! Shit, shit, um—『Armageddon - Good』!"
Torrents of light flooded out from the circular rift torn in the sky by the Goddess's authority—she had to be one, to contest against this damn tree—and poured forth a silent choir of holy messengers to accompany their master's fiery proclamations. Great conflagrations broke out across the surface of the colossus, as angels small and large carried out their inexorable assault.
'Guardians, Flames, and…' That was all he could recognize. Of the hundreds of angels streaking towards the tree monster, Marith only recognized two. 'In Surshana's name, the rumors don't do her justice. The collateral damage isn't going to be pretty though…'
"Huh," his companion squinted at a few angels dipping into the forest before flying out with squirming people in their embrace. "Think those are our soldiers."
'Thank the gods,' Marith released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. In the recesses of his mind, he thought it suspicious that there weren't fewer of them alive, but decided not to question the blessing. "That—that's good. That's good."
"You can fly, right?!" The Goddess yelled at them while evading a hail of projectiles too fast for his eyes to properly track. "Seriously, get outta here!"
"We'll leave it to you then!" The paladin gleefully shouted in return before glancing backwards at Marith. "We should stick around and watch."
"What?!"
"You wanted to send a report, didn't you?" The paladin shamelessly reminded him. "Executive Council would love to hear about the kinda firepower she can toss around."
"You're insane—"
The scream of a dying star interrupted him, followed by another, then another—each one another harbinger of dawn, each a white-hot fulmination that scorched his skin and rang his ears even from hundreds of meters away.
'What does it take to cast spells like this?' Marith wondered while covering his eyes, spotty vision barely able to make out the vague silhouette of the towering horror. 'And what kind of damn monster is the tree if it survived that?'
"—!" Argh, it was at times like these that he wished the Holocaust Scripture devoted some attention to healing spells. "—you hear me?! Oh, first one worked."
"Thanks," he blinked away the temporary blindness. "I think that's more than enough to put on a report—" More explosions cut him off mid-sentence. "Fuck, let's get down and regroup."
"Sure," she finally agreed and glided to the forest floor beside him. "Wonder how many angels she can pop out."
Marith lifted his head skywards and saw more and more servants of the divine launched at the monstrous maw of the tree mere moments after their genesis. "Does it matter?"
"Hrm. I guess it doesn't," the paladin thoughtfully watched the fight progress, the tree's whips sweeping aside lesser angels before being cut or seared by their higher-ranking brethren. "I heard there's a bunch of them manning the borders between the Beastman Country and Draconic Kingdom."
"There's some running tasks on behalf of the Dragon Queen too," he muttered, attention fully commanded by the same sight. "Internal security, escort duties, menial labor… Can't name all of it right now."
"You Windflower?" The paladin cocked an eyebrow.
"We've all been briefed," Marith stiffly replied. "Seriously, there's no point counting—"
Another interruption, this time an enraged roar from the tree's gaping jaws. He noted its attacks growing more sluggish, each strike slightly less sharp than the last. "This fight's over."
"Earth Father's name," the paladin whistled in awe. "That was fast."
The heavenly host continued to batter the poor abomination for another couple of minutes before its tremendous vitality eventually, inevitably failed it. Countless writhing branches slammed on the ground and fell limp, burnt chunks of eldritch wood crumbled off, and the ravenous titan was silenced forever.
In the uneasy quiet of Tob, Marith asked himself why the Executive Council wanted them to protect the living—now dead—catastrophe. "Oh."
"What's up?" The paladin tilted her head. "Divine revelation?"
"We were supposed to protect the tree," he groaned. "And now it's dead."
"I wasn't gonna get in the way of that mess," she frowned while they navigated to the destroyed base of operations. "Besides, my gut's telling me the Council won't care as much about the tree."
If it had been anyone else, Marith would have scoffed at them, but the instincts of trained individuals usually had some hint of truth in them. "They won't be happy."
" 'Course they won't," the paladin rolled her eyes. "Old fogies are always stressed about one thing or another. Also, this fuck up is definitely on them, not us."
"Show some more respect—" The spellcaster froze in place. "Oi. Be careful."
What was the Goddess doing, scrounging near the decimated site?
'Doesn't look like she's looting,' he felt slightly ashamed at the blasphemous suspicion, but pushed that and his fear aside in favor of catching up to the paladin. 'Now that we aren't scrambling in the air, she looks…'
Marith had seen his fair share of unnaturally beautiful people, but the angel nervously—nervously?—waiting for his answer surpassed all of them by a wide margin.
In fact, it was to the point where he was extremely unnerved. An image of sublime perfection stood before him: an image that did not belong in this world.
Almost like the… giant tree.
'She's a god,' he convinced himself. The difference between the hideous aberration and the Goddess was even greater than summer's peak and winter's nadir. How could they be similar? 'It's only natural.'
"Shit, shit, shit," her wings twitched as she paced to and fro. "What am I gonna tell those people—oh, hey!"
"Hey yourself," Marith side-eyed his companion. How were they so nonchalant? This would be a life-changing moment for most people, yet they greeted them like one would an acquaintance. There had to be a relationship of some type going on. "Whatcha messing around our camp for? Need anything?"
"Th-That was your camp…?" The Goddess looked horrified. "Oh my God, I—I'll pay you back." She began rummaging around in a strange purplish rift that formed in midair, movements growing increasingly desperate until she seemed to have come to a realization. "Um, I don't have any money, but is this maybe okay?"
The duo squinted at the coin she held up. It was golden, with the profile of an unrecognizable woman masterfully etched upon its face with a skill that elevated the coinage from mere currency to a work of art.
"Who's that?" His blonde-haired companion leaned closer. "Where'd you get something like this from?"
"Uh, I think it's a valkyrie?" The Goddess scratched her head. "I know it's not the kind of currency used around here, but… y'know…"
She… didn't really act like a Goddess. Marith rebuked himself—for all the holy texts spoke of the gods, it wasn't as if he met one himself. Before today, that is.
"I-If it doesn't work, I'll be in the Draconic Kingdom!" She hurriedly took out a small, magical bag and began dumping handful after handful of the peculiar coins into it before dipping in a ninety-degree bow. "I'm so, so, so sorry—"
"Nah, it's good," the paladin dismissed the Goddess's concerns, seemingly not placing any importance that she was bowing to them. "Everybody's alive, so it's no biggie."
"Yeah, that's true," the Goddess forced a smile and passed the bag to him. "So um, Draconic Kingdom if you need anything."
"Yup," the paladin waved. "Thanks again."
Marith and the paladin watched the Goddess soar into the distance, staring into the horizon long after she was no longer visible.
"Well, that happened," he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The past hour had been… not enlightening, but his worldview certainly felt broader than it had been at the start of day. "Reporting this isn't going to be fun."
"Forget your dumb reports. Anything else in there?" The paladin curiously looked at the pouch the Goddess left in his hands. "Some sacred relics?"
Marith put aside every lesson he'd ever learned and stuck his hand in the container before checking it for traps. He silently apologized to Vice-Captain Schoen; with everything that occurred, surely he could be forgiven for not casting doubt over the Goddess's recompense.
"No," the spellcaster pulled out a golden coin of a quality and make he'd never seen in his life. "Just gold." Marith dipped his hand deeper and raised an entire dazzling handful. "A lot of it."
"Doesn't mean they can't be sacred relics," the paladin plucked one from the bag and bit into it. "Or not. Eh, the Research Institute's gonna have fun either way."
"Let's just head back," he held the bag open, prompting her to return the damaged coin. "We need to do a headcount and check our supplies."
"Welp, don't know if there's anything left to check," the paladin surveyed the distant wreckage. Normally, visibility would be limited in a thick forest like Tob, but after the tree monster's rampage… the small clearing couldn't be called 'small' anymore. "Least there's no casualties."
Marith crawled towards a still-upright tree and propped himself against it. "You've got any idea why she's here? Draconic Kingdom's still got their beastmen issue; makes you think the Lady of Wings would be more preoccupied dealing with that than messing around in Tob."
"It's whatever," she shrugged. The spellcaster disapproved; a member of the Six Scriptures ought to be more worried when a divine being stumbled over the secret installation they were meant to be protecting. "My brother worked with her for a bit, didn't sound like the sneaky type. Ah, by the way!"
"What do you want?" Marith cautiously asked, mentally making a note to bring her brother up to his superiors later. He was no Windflower rogue, but a detail this important warranted attention—
"I don't think I've ever caught your name," the blonde spoke with a casualness at odds with the devastation they stood in the midst of. "Unless that's 'classified' too, Sir."
"Marith," he dragged a hand down his face, secretly thankful for the distraction. "You?"
"Pft," the paladin smacked his back with an amused chuckle. "Ilona. C'mon, we gotta go sort out the camp. Last one there cleans the shitters!"
The spellcaster looked up and scowled at the back of the woman who hadn't even broken a sweat. Paladins were unfairly tough, especially if she was deemed powerful enough to be selected for one of the Six Scriptures. No point indulging her pointless competition just to embarrass the Holocaust Scripture more than he already had.
"Wait," Marith trudged behind her. "What do you mean clean the shitters, whole godsdamn place is gone…"
Ilona ignored him and ran straight ahead anyways. Of course—what did he expect?
The spellcaster looked down at the bag of mysterious gold coins the Lady of Wings had dumped in his hands and back up at the scorched and cratered forest. He was gonna have to try to explain what happened here, wasn't he?
Fuck.
"Lord Asturias, have you given any thought to my proposition?"
'Yes. And Queen Oriculus isn't going to say yes,' Martin cut another slice of roast beef, thoroughly chewing it as the baron anxiously anticipated his response. "I'll pass it to Her Majesty, although I wouldn't expect a quick response. It's a rather hectic time, Baron Fernde. I hope that isn't any trouble."
Seating arrangements had become rather informal of late—for better or worse, Martin had yet to decide; although, he was finding his dislike waxing with each day that passed.
"No, no, of course not!" The good baron hastily accepted his deferral. "I'm sure Her Majesty and the Lady of Wings are ensuring the beastmen are thoroughly brought to heel."
'Funny how those are the only two not giddy about the situation,' Martin dryly mused. "When they do, I'll make sure to inform Her Majesty."
"You have my gratitude," Baron Fernde dipped his head. "The kingdom will definitely benefit from access to a market as large as the beastmen population. We wouldn't want to give it all up to some foreign merchants, right?"
"I suppose we wouldn't."
"Exactly! So I was considering investing in the expansion of our frontier settlements—"
The ongoing conversations filling the Great Hall petered to a halt.
"Your Majesty," Martin laid his utensils down and stood up, his colleagues quick to follow his example. She rarely ever ate alongside them, but to partake in food before the host themself did was still an unacceptable slight. "On behalf of your Court, I apologize for our rudeness."
"Your apology is unnecessary," she shrugged off her cloak to the two everpresent Gatekeepers that now accompanied her in place of the Royal Guards before taking a seat at the head of the foremost table. "Though the sentiment is appreciated, don't let my interruption distract all of you from whatever you were discussing."
One by one, her courtiers sat down and the comfortable chatter of a couple seconds prior was gradually restored to the hall.
"The queen herself," Baron Fernde gaped in awe at Queen Oriculus. Or the angels: the distinction was hard to make nowadays when the summoned pair followed her nearly everywhere. "Looks much better this way than before—I must confess, her childish form was always a bit off-putting. Has the ear of the Goddess too, they say."
Whatever confirmation the minor nobleman was looking for, Martin didn't go through the trouble of providing it. He was in no mood to further incur Queen Oriculus's wrath, if the last few days were anything to go by.
"Anyways, since Her Majesty's found the time to break bread with us, I'm sure this is only further confirmation that the beastmen vassalization is progressing swiftly," by the gods, this man must be in possession of some skill allowing him to ramble endlessly without need for air. "We could take a page from the Theocracy's book and start exporting demihuman slaves—"
"Don't hold your breath," Martin smoothly cut him off. "The Draconic Kingdom isn't in the business of dealing with slaves."
He had the not-insignificant hunch that Lady Yuriko wouldn't take kindly to such a trade, and that meant Queen Oriculus wouldn't either. It was a fortuitous thing, he thought, that the kingdom never indulged in the market.
Unnecessary drama would result in annoying whining from Queen Oriculus at best, disastrous wrath from Lady Yuriko at worst.
"It's the least the damn subhumans deserve," Baron Fernde grumbled. "They should be happy we aren't slaughtering them wholesale."
'Yes, and you're the one on the front lines doing the slaughtering,' despite his disapproval, he sympathized with the attitude: the oppressed desiring to oppress their oppressors was only natural. 'An era where national policy is determined by a single person's sensibilities…'
Lady Yuriko was understanding, to a degree, but she had her limits. Exploiting civilians was probably one of them.
"I'm sure the beastmen are thankful for the reprieve as well," he neutrally replied, gaze drifting over to Queen Oriculus who he noted hadn't taken a single bite out of her food since she'd arrived. The despondent ruler busied herself with nudging around the slices of beef, chunks of herbed potatoes, and the various other items on her plate, refusing—or perhaps unable—to partake in the works of her chefs. "Ultimately, the decision isn't ours to make."
"Indeed," Martin tuned out the baron to focus on more important matters. Maybe Amrel had the right idea, becoming a glorified mercenary instead of dealing with the Royal Court. "You know, I've heard the Scalewing Confederacy sent some tribesmen northwards to Napoca…"
From the side of his eyes, he caught Queen Oriculus staring at the mulled wine for an uncharacteristically long time before sighing and placing the goblet back on the table. She'd been distracted of late, not to the point where she couldn't get anything done, but enough that it birthed a niggling sense of unease within him.
'Though I do believe she's been attempting to quit,' he took a sip from his own cup, savoring the sweet tinge of spice. 'Hah… I've forgotten how it feels to drink for leisure's sake—'
"Please continue without me," wood scraped against the parquet as Queen Oriculus abruptly rose, hastening the entire hall to their feet in an effort to show respect, but she and her angelic guards were already leaving through a side exit. Those standing slowly fell back to their seats, the levity they had enjoyed shattered by the sudden departure.
"Bitter," Martin mumbled to himself, ignoring the floundering baron. The wine had lost its sweetness and appeal. "How troublesome."
"An inquiry on possible travel routes to the Beastman Country," Draudillon read aloud to herself. "Well, there's something to be said for the lengths people would go to acquire wealth."
She exhaled, letters slipping out of grasp while she sunk into the pillows propped against the bed's headboard. "I'm surprised the Theocracy's willing to expand upon their naval trade routes after my little stunt."
They were taking the poaching of their priests rather well. True, it was only four, but she had expected more pushback; they hadn't even sent an emissary. Were divine casters that trivial for them to produce? 'Guess they see it as a small sacrifice in the long term.'
The mild response also indirectly answered her question on how much power they could afford to project. Whatever Player legacies they owned were either weaker than Yuriko, only slightly stronger, or unable to be publically brought out at all.
'She went to the Katze Plains yesterday,' the reminder brought forth another bout of forlorn recollecting. 'Seemed even worse off than the day prior. Did someone explain to her why that cursed place is the way it is? They must have.'
Guilt flooded inwards—a feeling that should've long been familiar at this point, but felt all the more miserable because of it. She should've been the one who taught Yuriko about negative energy fields, and now the angel was suffering the consequences of her neglect.
'I assumed too much,' the dragon queen noticed she had reread the same sentence for the seventh time before laying her work to the side. 'And now here we are.'
Why couldn't they talk with her? Communicate their problems? Was she really that untrustworthy? Ha, of course she was; her future would never outrun her past and present—
Oh. They returned.
"Hi," Yuriko lacklusterly greeted her, purple portal closing behind them. "I'm back."
'It doesn't feel like you are,' the dragon queen refrained from saying that out loud. Even so, a small part of her still rejoiced: a part that she recognized as utterly shameless. Was it right to feel elated when she was the one responsible for the state they were in? "Are you alright?"
"Mmn," the angel smiled unconvincingly. "I'm good. How about you?"
"Likewise."
Liar. They were both liars.
"Cool," there it was again, that awful, terrible, fake smile. "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit—"
"Tell me what's wrong," Draudillon blurted. She didn't beg. A ruler representing millions of people had no right to lay down their dignity so easily. "Please."
She didn't.
"Draudillon," Yuriko softly mumbled. "Not now, okay?"
"Then when?" Her voice came out harsher than she intended. "When is it okay?"
She regretted her outburst before it even fully left her lips. "Sorry, I—I apologize. You didn't deserve that."
"I did though," an angel shouldn't sound so sapped. "You're just worried about me, and I, I'm…"
Yuriko's head turned downwards, cascading hair concealing her expression. "I'm making it hard for you. It would be weird if you weren't upset."
Draudillon gently raised their chin with a hand. "It's not hard," she lied, putting aside her personal feelings on the matter. "It's—well, you know how the Royal Court can be sometimes."
"I don't," her beloved's shoulders slumped even lower. "I've never been there."
"Oh," she weakly uttered. "Maybe in the future then."
"Maybe," Yuriko flopped on the bed. Draudillon fought the urge to wrinkle her nose: the angel smelled of charred wood and loam. Apparently, she didn't do as good a job as she thought because the angel shot up and fumbled the multipurpose magical tool they grabbed from their Item Box. "Ah. I forgot to clean up…"
"You should take a bath instead," Draudillon dredged up an old memory from before the beastman raids became full-blown attacks. "It's a good way to start—I mean, end the day."
"Don't you bathe in the morning?" Yuriko's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"The point is, it would help you relax more than a『Clean』would," her mind dispelled the fading traces of a matronly attendant as she led the angel to the bathroom. "Blue creates water, red warms it up, and purple removes the water. I'll be outside reading, so call me if you need anything—"
"Wait," Yuriko grabbed the sleeve of her casualwear, eyes unable to meet hers. "I, I don't wanna go alone."
Draudillon's heart caught in her throat.
"Come with me?" The angel pleaded. "S-Sorry, it sounds annoying, doesn't it? It—It's fine, I can… I'll do it myself."
"I'll go," watching them in a state so pitiful hurt. "It isn't a problem."
Both of them left it at that: Yuriko to the bathroom to undress and create the water, while Draudillon located the bathing supplies.
'Wonder where she flew to this time,' the dragon queen idly wondered as she stepped into the side chamber. 'A forest fire—?'
Her feet faltered, mind stuttered, eyes enraptured by the slender frame her beloved saw fit to reveal to her, and only her.
The kind of image that was worthy of a sepia-toned mural. An image that she found herself audaciously approaching.
Draudillon's finger traced the smooth, pale skin—a faint flash of floral fragrance tickling her nose.
'This is my first time seeing her unclothed, isn't it?'
Beneath her hands, the angel looked so small.
Vulnerable. Nothing like the champion, hero, savior that the kingdom fervently believed her to be.
Again, the dragon queen was reminded that they were only a twenty-five year old ripped from a relatively peaceful life and dropped into a world where casual brutality was openly displayed rather than hidden to the public.
"Do you—" Draudillon swallowed thickly, nails digging into Yuriko's trembling back. "Have you ever thought about going back?"
"To where?" The angel asked in confusion. "Work?"
"Home," she lightly rapped on their head with her knuckles. "You know, before all of this—"
"But this is home," Yuriko muttered, sinking deeper into the warm water. "I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Mm," Draudillon didn't trust herself to speak lest she turn into a pathetic wreck. Couldn't show that kind of appearance in front of the angel, not when it would only serve to make them feel guiltier than they already were.
With Yuriko's desolate declaration ringing in the dragon queen's head, she silently continued scrubbing away the accumulated grime staining their alabaster skin. There was none of the shamefully inappropriate lust she had felt in the beginning—only a somber sort of intimacy that was wonderful and unbearable all at once.
'It's too quiet. I can't take this,' Draudillon decided to break the heavy atmosphere. "See anything interesting today?"
"... there was a big tree. I think I almost got a bunch of people killed."
"Almost, but not quite, yes?" She really wanted to ask about the 'big tree,' but it was clear what Yuriko was more bothered about. "Then nothing more can be asked out of you. Don't beat yourself up over a success."
"They were camping there," Yuriko continued, pulling their legs towards their chin. "And all their stuff got destroyed because I picked a dumb flower off its head."
"What did you do after that?" She scrubbed the angel's arm.
"I gave them some coins from Yggdrasil, since I don't have any money…" Yuriko's body tensed. Were they worried she'd get angry they used the otherworldly currency? "I told them that they could um, come here if there were any problems."
"I see," Legs, diligently controlling a sight and touch that may have strayed otherwise. "Did you ask for their names? Affiliation?"
"No," the angel's voice sank to a murmur. "I messed up, didn't I?"
"You didn't," a firm tone to match the hands massaging Yuriko's scalp. "They wouldn't have given you a straight answer unless you coerced them. Even then, there's magical countermeasures to keep in mind."
"Guess so," they stayed silent after that.
Draudillon finished washing their back before turning around to let them complete the rest by themselves. With the sound of Yuriko moving about and water splashing from behind, she became painfully aware of just how compromising their situation seemed. Gods, they weren't even married, and she was, she was already—
"I'm done," her beloved tapped her from the front, damp curls dripping down onto the towel wrapped around them. How had she not seen them? "Um, I'll go dry off, and uh, ah…"
They snapped their head away, failing to hide the crimson flush blooming on their face. "B-B-Bath's free!"
"Thank you," she watched them slip out the room, nearly slipping on the floor, before doffing her attire and drawing nearer to the sizable tub.
'Yuriko's bathwater—' Draudillon's fist slammed into the purple gem containing『Destruction Water』. Disgusting. She was disgusting for being able to formulate that kind of thought while the angel was only a few meters away. 'Just what in the world are you thinking?'
Submerging herself in a fresh bath, she attempted to banish the unwelcome fantasies, furiously scouring both body and mind with single-minded doggedness.
The dragon queen lifted herself out of the water, skin mildly abrased from the quick and rough treatment she subjected it to, dried herself off and donned a nightgown hanging in an adjacent closet before reentering the bedroom proper.
'Is she trying to dry her hair off with a towel?' Draudillon dimmed the magical lights of her apartment and watched the angel diligently squeeze out excess moisture with a towel, section by section, length by length. 'No spells or items? Well, a game probably wouldn't have a need for lifestyle spells.'
"Here," she tossed Yuriko a small metallic trinket: the same she just used to dry off her own but had slipped her attention earlier. "For your hair."
"How do I put this on?" Yuriko curiously poked and prodded the magic item.
"It's to dry it, not to serve as an accessory," the dragon queen replied with a faint hint of amusement breaking through her troubled conscience. "I could have it turned into one if you want."
"N-No, this is good," Yuriko clutched the item, wet strands magically reverting to their original voluminous appearance. "Thanks."
Draudillon hummed in acknowledgment, plopped on the bed, and crawled under the covers—shifting to make room between her arms for the angel. Yuriko snuggled against her chest, the angel's hands brought up to their own bosom.
"Good night," she closed her eyes and tried falling asleep, only for the angel's whisper to nudge her away from the beginnings of drowsiness. "Hm?"
"Can you…" Yuriko hesitated. "Can you stay awake for a little longer?"
"For as long as you want," her arms tightened around them. "Why don't you tell me more about your day?"
'She'll be okay. We'll be okay,' and with the angel in her arms, it felt just the tiniest bit more convincing. 'Everything's fine.'
"…'kay."
Maybe it'll come true if she repeated it enough.
