RFC-Mini Arc 2: Elven Garde-13 (Patreon)

I watch from a window as Mr. Self-Made dashes off. What a surprise he was and not the good kind. Who wants to come home after a long day of work to see some creeper hanging around outside their house?

Well, I hadn’t exactly worked hard playing around with Cloud all day and Callan isn’t exactly creepy, very well dressed for a commoner really, but the point remains. Whatever else is said about him, he’s daring. A part of me is impressed.

A very small part greatly overshadowed by the part of me that sees it all as one big joke and another part of me filled with murderous rage. I hope he understands how lucky he is. I was this close to strangling him and having Geneva mulch him for the garden. The man has a saint watching over him.

“So?” I ask as Geneva as she approaches, tail swaying slowly.

“I have thoroughly painted you as the villain, my summoner. Just short of a realm-devouring catastrophe.”

I match her smirk, beckoning her forward and squeezing her tightly. It was a struggle, finding a place for Callan in my exciting life. Being put on the spot suddenly while working through my anger made it hard to channel my creativity. Mr. Self-Made didn’t make it easier on me by being entirely uninteresting besides his uncommon arrogance. Luckily, I have a very capable elemental.

“Did he go for it?”

“Oh, yes. He believes summoning is a hidden technique, hoarded by those in power to keep down the common man. He’s ready to turn the tables against you using your own power.”

“Great!” What can I do with a carpenter? Absolutely nothing. I live with two masters of the physical affinity. One can literally shape wood with an errant thought. What else can he offer? His mind? He didn’t strike me as scholarly. His body? Don’t need that. In any way.

Just as I was ready to write him off, Geneva provided a wonderful solution. The kingdom has a disappointing lack of interest in summoning. Callan is a man searching for purpose and power. A match made by the saints.

I loved the idea the moment my scheming succubus slithered into my thoughts. Unfortunately, he’s far too antagonistic for me to teach him, but that can also serve as a driving force for self-study. Nothing gets a hero fired up like a damsel-in-distress.

“It worked better than expected.” Geneva grins stretches. “Callan is logical. He understands that he can’t hope to match you in summoning so he hopes to close the gap in skill with numbers.”

“He’s going to get more to do it?” I laugh. A bundle of summoners for the price of one! “Oh, I can’t wait to see what they come up with. Maybe I should have the whole house form a contract?” A house of summoners. Wonderful.

“I’m glad you like your present.”

My smile dims a little as I turn toward Kierra, still seated on the couch where I left her. Geneva steps out of my arms without a word as I stalk over to my wife. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.”

“Oh? Whatever do you mean?”

I stop in front of her. “You know, I don’t ask what you get up to in your free time. I just assumed that since all you ever talk about is your garden that that was it. Crazy, I know. I should’ve guessed that couldn’t be it. Nothing that tame would satisfy you.”

Kierra’s smile widens as she moves her feet from the cushions to the floor. Her body tenses the slightest amount as she prepares to move. “Something you want to say, dedia?”

“I want you to tell me exactly how you met Mr. Self-Made and how well you know each other,” I say slowly, managing to keep my voice calm and civil. While running scenarios in my mind, trying to figure out which way she’ll run.

“If I refuse to say?”

“Didn’t I say it earlier? I put up with a lot but I have lines you can’t cross.”

“Oooh. You almost sound…scary.” Her smile turns mocking.

I laugh without humor. “You just won’t be happy until I do it, will you?”

We stare at each other in growing tension, waiting. Barely breathing.

I move first, my human skin thrown aside as a mass of ooze takes over the living room. Months and months of eating large meals and the occasional whole monster corpse makes for a lot of mass. I barely notice it as I can compact my form with just a thought and I don’t feel the extra weight but at a moment’s notice I can expand.

Furniture is shattered and knocked aside as I rapidly fill the space, trying to cut off every avenue of escape. Not quick enough though. Kierra moved the moment I reverted to my elemental form, practically teleporting backward as she hops out of the way. She disappears up the stairs and I’m hot on her trail, my body narrowing to fit up the staircase. She dashes into our bedroom and slams the door behind her but it doesn’t even slow me down as I slam against it, the heavy wood putting up a valiant struggle for a few seconds before the force of my mass becomes too strong.

I rip the door off its hinges, an angry roiling mass of star-studded ooze. She waits by the balcony, smiling broadly. “Now, Lou. We can talk this out, can’t we? It would be unseemly for the neighbors to see our…marital spat.”

I roil, the best I can do to express my outrage with a lack of vocal chords. If she hopes off the balcony, I can’t chase her as I am. Not to mention if she runs through the Hall in that nightgown, there’ll be another Callan on my doorstep tomorrow.

Reigning in my emotions, I also reign in my body, ooze compacting until I am shorter than her waist and just as wide. Ah, this brings back memories of when we first met in the Enchanted Forest.

The nostalgia must have hold of her as well as her smile softens and she steps forward. “I’m sorry, dedia. I can’t help myself from teasing you, hm? You know the boy—”

I bob back and forth, doing my best to appear harmless as she approaches. Probably helps that I don’t have any muscles to tense or eyes to appear shifty. I wait until she’s close enough to reach out to me, slowly extending a tentacle to grab her hand…and then it extends further, wrapping all over her arm, holding her tightly.

Her arms glows as she tries to break the hold, a useless gesture. I may look small but that’s a whole lot of weight. Not to mention this form is incredibly durable. It’s not the strongest, not having muscles, but physical attacks are pointless.

While she struggles, three more tentacles bind her remaining limbs and I wrestle her to the ground. When she stops trying to get free, I turn so she’s not pressed to the floor, more tentacles wrapping around her waist and holding her against me like the world’s most possessive cushion.

Not that she cares. Despite the compromised position, Kierra giggles. “That was downright deceptive,” she says, wiggling to find any give in her binding. There’s none. I swear she sighs in contentment. “Good girl.”

I don’t want you praising me right now!

But thanks…

Geneva, get up here.

A head pokes through the doorway, the succubus grinning at what she sees. I need you to do my talking for me. I could transform part of myself into my human head but who knows what she’ll do if I present an obvious weak spot.

“Of course, my summoner. She wants you to answer her questions from before.”

“Ah, what would those be? I’ve forgotten in all the excitement.”

I tighten her bindings. Don’t play games with me. What do you want? Is this another test? Or do you really want to keep that man secret? The idea is laughable, utterly ridiculous…but I can’t help thinking there might really be something going on between the two of them.

The idea drives me crazy.

“If you would like to torture her, I could provide some suggestions,” Geneva says, smile not abating an inch.

“Bad dog. I’ll have to discipline you later.” Kierra does another wiggle, though I think it’s more of a tease than an actual attempt at escape. “Though she could use the practice. Mm, just this once then Lou. Give it your best. Ah, but mind the floors. Blood is a pain to get out of wood once it’s seeped in.”

The both of you are insane! I’m not going to torture anyone. I could never harm Kierra, no matter how insane she makes me.

“I see. But there is more than one form of torment.”

Hm? What do you mean?

In response, images fill my head. Wonderful, disturbing images that I can’t help but find enticing. More than one kind of torment indeed.

Geneva giggles as half a dozen finger sized tentacles slowly extend from my body. Kierra laughs as I caress her through her nightgown. “Are you trying to tickle it out of me?” she asks with amusement.

Oh, that’s a great idea. I’ll keep that in mind but no, that’s not what I’m thinking. The six short limbs stop their questing. With a thought, I make them sharp. The edge can’t compare to a sword but it’s enough to easily cut through the thin fabric before pulling the strips that remain off her.

Kierra is perfectly relaxed despite being exposed. “Oh, I see,” she says breezily. “Well, this isn’t how I saw the night going but I’m not complaining.”

Not yet, you aren’t.