Your Featherlands CYOA Journey ~ Chapter 12 (Patreon)

You lift the red berry to your lips, sitting the rest down by the corner of the cell. You pop it inside, letting the taste break through a small crack in the outer skin. The berry gives a small crunch before a faint trace of sweet nectar touches your tongue. You still find yourself skeptical of the berry’s supposed properties, but given the fantastical elements you’ve seen of the Featherlands thus far, you can’t bring yourself to immediately discredit the claims. As the juice and broken skin trickles down your throat, you feel a sudden warmth flush across your body.

“Whoa,” you whisper to yourself, staring down at your hands. The warmth rises to a soft burn, then to one much more noticeable. It glows across your skin all over, rising and rising until you believe it may never stop. It stings and burns, searing inside your mouth like an immaculate, forbidden spice. Beads of sweat form across your skin. The salty secretion trickles down your neck and back. The burn encompasses you inside and out. You struggle to breathe, dropping to your knees in your cell. You gasp and wheeze, huffing deep breaths of hot air. You try to lift yourself back up by grabbing onto the steel bars of the cell. Tears bead in your eyes. Your hands shake. Every movement emphasizes the burn that covers your person, like trapped within a cage of fire.

“Make it stop! Oh please, it hurts!” You fight the urge to scream. You shake as you endure the sensation of flames swallowing you again and again. Then, as quickly as it began, the pain vanishes. In an instant, the fiery stimulation engulfing your body returns to normal. After only seconds of burning turmoil, you’re met once more with the cool, damp chill of the dungeon. You continue to shiver, still feeling the residual effects of the broiling fever. Sweat trickles down your body, shaking in place. Steadily, you hoist yourself up once more. You tremble, highly on edge for more surprising sensations. You remain in the silence of your own wheezing panting. For several minutes, nothing else occurs. You breathe a relieved sigh and let go of the steel bars.

“Strange…” you mutter to yourself. As you pull your hands away, you see the bars glowing a bright shade of orange, perfectly reflecting the pattern of your grip. Waves of heat resonate around them. You reach closer to inspect and feel none of it. Carefully, with an experimental approach, you touch the glowing bars. They feel just as the bars normally would, only softer and more malleable. You split the bar where it glows with relative ease, able to move the tempered area like clay. You study your work and retract your hands. You look down at your palms. No burns, no scars. You see virtually no difference. You contemplate the idea that you may have gained some sort of new gift, much like mastering Manic Shock. You grin and begin devising a way to use the gift for an escape.

You rush to the cell door. You know that the guards will notice you gone sooner or later, but you figure that making as little noise as possible would be beneficial. You look around before catching the sight of the lock positioned on the outside. You grab a hold of a nearby bar to warm and loosen the steel. Again, the gift works as it had. The steel bar glows in your grasp without a trace of burn or pain. You twist it open before reaching through the cell door and trying again on the lock itself. Reaching from behind, you place your hand over the lock. You wonder how the gift can work given it requiring no apparent thought or focus, but again, it does. The lock glows a bright shade of orange, heat waves bouncing off of the surface. You hold your hand there slightly longer for good measure. Once the steel begins to feel softer in your grip, you tug hard to tear the lock from its base, the cell door immediately wafting loose as you lean against it.

You drop the lock to the floor and rush out of the cell. You continue to question the nature of the magic you’ve been given, but thoughtfully decide to focus on planning your next moves instead. You wonder if you should strictly look for an exit, harboring intentions to rescue Momo and the others later, or if you should find Momo first to gain her help and insight. The day had been long and your weary mind struggled with the brand new set of circumstances yet again. You sigh and press on, deciding to follow the path most natural.

You trace the stairwell up which Momo had left with the guard. With little clothing and no wand, you can’t help but feel slightly naked and defenseless, trying to navigate an entire palace with guards. You humor yourself by figuring that you had all of the advantages against a camp of trolls and still lost, thinking what more could you have to lose. You steady your breathing and stay mindful of your footsteps. Every step against the cold, damp, stone steps feels as if you’re approaching an ever worse fate. Still, you retain hope, knowing that doing something is far better than resigning yourself to slavery. You feel a sense of duty to the world, or at the very least that you owe it to yourself to keep fighting to return home.

You climb the steps far higher than you imagined they would go. Your legs weakly wobble in place as you come across a hallway, thankful to not be climbing any longer. The hall of the palace gives off the same fantastical medieval look that you’ve so far seen of the rest of the castle. Stone walls, ornate paintings and cloth hangings, and rush that stretch the entire length of the cascading corridors. The new air feels fresh in your nose, fragrant with the aroma of the surrounding flowers and trees.

You rest by an open window, gazing out upon a portion of the kingdom of Plumewood. You see several roads leading to distant concentrations of buildings, a bustling marketplace not unlike that of the Gigglewood elven commune. Looking upon it makes you think of Tiamalla and all the work that she had done to help acclimate you to the Featherlands. You sigh, hoping that she wouldn't worry too much about your disappearance. Even as you notice villagers traveling the Plumeroads and going about their unassuming lives, your mind stays with Tia, wishing for her safety.

In your silence, you study the stillness of the upper corridor. You can make out the chatter of guards in the distance, lazily carrying about their sentry duties. You stay low to try and hide yourself behind several statues that face outward through the hallway. You ease your mind. You try and focus on what you can do rather than what you may find yourself up against. You know you can still cast, albeit not as well without a wand, and you still have your new gift, despite not knowing how to properly utilize it for combat or defense. You press onward quietly, trying not to be seen.

Your spirits are lifted by seeing how easy it seems to be to find an exit, but a sense of duty compels you to still search for Momo and the princess. You chart out a path to the outside as you continue through the castle towers. The connected turrets attached to the dungeon help guide you toward the central chambers. Even as you try to navigate, you feel how little you know about castle layouts and the Featherlands still in general. You hear distant giggles of ticklish endeavors, both resonating from the dungeon halls as well as the more common spaces, Featherlanders engaged in the ticklish fun of their customs. You listen closely to the mirthful laughter, glad to know others around the castle are not only preoccupying themselves but also making noise to mask your movements.

“Heeheeehhahahaha stahahahaap it!!” a jovial voice chimes out. You come across an open room off of the hallway and peer inside. Two smaller blue-skinned beings giggle as they play with a purple-skinned boy atop a wide, puffy bed. None of them notice you as you scurry past. You can only imagine them tickling the poor lad, given Featherland observance and watching how he thrashes beneath them. You smile a little, both from feeling sneaky and at watching the play unfold. Everyone appears to be enjoying themselves, so no need for alarm. You breathe a cool rush of air through your nose, glad to find some sort of joy in your otherwise daring predicament.

You continue forward through the corridor. You come across other open doors that rush past, hoping not to be seen. You scurry past rooms that appear to be for storage, food preparation, and other bedrooms, both occupied and not. More laughter chimes through the air, the typical ambiance of the Featherlands, as you’ve come to imagine. You keep your eye out for anything that may help you. As you pass by a room with clothes hanging by the light of an open window, you get an idea. You hurry inside, staying crouched. You quickly scan over the articles before you and decide on something quick and basic to help conceal yourself while on the castle grounds. You strip away your tattered robes and put on a fresh tunic, with leggings, boots, and a hood to help cover the human features of your face and head.

You step out of the room, looking to both sides of you. You know you must continue to be careful, but at least you now have the means of disguise. You draw in a long, slow breath before pressing farther down the open hallway. You walk upright and normal, trying your best not to stand out, despite still being unfamiliar with the air of the land. You passively search through the castle’s many long, winding hallways. You try to follow visual and audio clues as to where you may be able to find Momo, likely where she had been taken to engage with the Princess Valina. Before long, as you keep your face hidden and peer about the castle floors, you start to hear another chime of laughter, one lighter and more melodic than all the others. The voice appears familiar enough to scout out. You keep your ears open and try to follow the sound as best as you can, facing the challenge of isolating it from all the other fits of laughter in the distance.

“Aaahhhheeeeheeehehee! Pleeehahhahahahse!!” you hear, echoing from the top floors of the castle. You quickly find another flight of stairs around the main hall and ascend, the laughter getting louder and louder as you climb. You rush toward the voice, sure in your senses that it’s the crying laughter of Momo. The nearer you get, the more desperate and strained it begins to sound, like the laughter you had heard down in the dungeons. You storm through the castle quickly, feeling fortunate for there being no one around you to suspect that you’re an escaped prisoner.

You come upon the open archway into another large room. The laughter bursts from inside, but you find yourself hiding in your approach upon finding two guards standing watch on both sides of the archway. You crouch behind a large, stone vase and can hear Momo’s voice clearly spilling out of the room, though you cannot see her from where you hide. You sigh to yourself and contemplate how to get past the guards into the room. The two are armed with light, leather armor and swords at their hips. They stand tall and strong, both appearing very similar in uniform. You have no weapon, only the new gift and the Manic Spark spell, poorly channeled without a wand. You look down at your hands as Momo’s laughter pours out into the open hallway.

“Naaahahahahahaooooo!! Stahahahahahahaaaaap!!” she cries. Peering down to your palms, it seems you have only one way through. You can only hope that the punishment upon being caught is at least somewhat merciful. Summoning all of your bravery, courage, and even misplaced foolishness, you stand erect, walking fully up the staircase to greet the guards.

“Afternoon,” you say in a low, gruff voice, hoping to just walk on by without a problem.

“Excuse me, what business have you with the princess?” one of the guards asks. He extends a massive hand to keep you from entering the chamber. You keep the hood up, holding your body as unlike a human as you can imagine.

“Uh, h-her highness has… um… requested an audience… you know, with tickling the Feilyne,” you say, prepared to retaliate with your magic should anything go awry. The guards look over you questioningly.

“Huh, she never said anything about that,” the other guard mentioned.

“Her highness, Valina, mentioned it in secret,” you try to explain calmly. “I’m here to appraise. She wanted to prove that she was in possession of a Feilyne without the word spreading too quickly. Can’t have her valuables being known so soon, eh?” You only half understand the words that slip from your lips, but you can’t deny how good they sound. You wait for the response, following the silence of the guards staring down at you.

“Aye, that… that makes sense,” one of the guards says.

“Sure,” says the other. “Alright, go on in. If the poor cat hasn’t been spent already, heh heh.”

“Thank you,” you say. Surprisingly, the guards allow you to pass. You genuinely believed that it would have to come down to overpowering them with magic, but as the exchange flowed naturally, you’re gladened that it didn’t have to come to that.

You walk into the large, ornate room. Upon entering, you see a small padded bench next to a table holding up a bowl with freshly picked fruit. Candles replace the harsh torchlights of the open halls. The air flows thick with incense and a more natural aroma, a denseness of musk carried by the fits of laughter. You notice a closed door within the open area, one where the laughter is seeping through most clearly. The door is decorated with the images of pink flowers and doe-like creatures frolicking through an open field. You hold your ear to it, hearing the crying pleas from the tortured girl inside. You gnash your teeth and continue to act natural for the guards still within eyeshot. You steady your hand and push the door open, slipping inside the room and quickly shutting it behind you.

“What’s your problem, I said no–” Valina snaps, turned around. She stands before a wide, wooden X-frame hoisting Momo’s body stretched out by her arms and legs in the center of the room. Momo is still in her prisoner’s robes, the gentle fur of her skin damp with sweat and humidity. She pants, her eyes tired and ears slumped atop her head. Valina stands before her, still dressed in a royal gown with pink frills. She holds a feather in one hand and a fork-like device in the other. Her eyes narrow. You know her in her stare that you cannot continue the charade of your disguise, that she has immediately figured out who you are and will take instant measures to have you locked away again. Thinking quickly, you hold out your hand and throw back your hood.

“No yelling,” you say to the startled princess. You force a strong, stoic voice from your lips, keeping your hand pointed toward her and your eyes narrowed on her position. “I am the human. I was trained by the elves of Gigglewood in the ways of magic. I can incinerate you along with your entire castle if I see fit. Stay quiet and we’ll all be okay.” Valina stares back at you. Her face falls into an expression of defeat. She looks down at the ground. She sniffles a bit, her lip quivering as her hands cup before her.

“Pl… please… please don’t hurt me…” Valina says. She sniffles more, reaching up to wipe her palm against her eye. “I… I never wanted to… to…– bwuaahhhaha!” Her expression breaks into one of taunting laughter. She looks up back at you, wiping away tears as she laughs in your direction. “Oh wow, I couldn’t hold that for very long, could I? Oh, sorry, sorry, that’s just too funny!”

“What’s so funny?” you ask firmly.

“The human hasn’t been here for that long, you idiot!” Valina says back. “Maybe you’ve learned some cute tricks, but there’s no way you’ve been here long enough to master magic. Oh, that’s too good…”

“I… I have though!” you say. Valina wipes away another tear as she laughs, holding one hand up in mock surrender.

“Listen, I won’t say anything,” Valina says. “You clearly went through a lot to get up here and certainly risked a lot more than you know.” She walks away from Momo, setting her tools down on a small table by the side of the frame. The rest of the room is decorated as you would have expected Valina’s room to look. Large, puffy bed sprinkled with pink flower petals. More bowls of fruit sitting atop small tables. Expansive, billowy curtains framing an open balcony facing the kingdom below the castle. You step forward, your foot pressing down against a wide, plush rug, stitched with the images of flowers and trees. You look back to Momo, still fighting to catch her breath against the rack.

“Truth be told, I was kind of hoping that you would do something crazy like this,” Valina continues. “That’s the one thing I’ve always heard about humans. Their unpredictability. Well, that and their ticklishness, and you’ve since come through with both. Well done. I just didn’t expect you to try something so quickly.”

“Let her down,” you demand. Valina shoots you a glare.

“Listen, I am humoring you way more than I should right now,” Valina says. “I’m letting you stand in my room and speak, but you will not give me orders in my own castle. All I have to do is say the word and you’ll be locked away again forever, deep within a cell where you’ll never escape and never see the light of day again, at least not through all of your tears. Understand me, human?” You huff, but you know that you can’t fight her bluff. At least not now.

“Please,” you say. Valina looks over you curiously.

“She is what concerns you, huh?” Valina asks. “You see, Feilyne are compelling like that. Enchanting. Do yourself a favor and don’t fall in love with one. If you have already, fall out of it. They’re not as harmful as they are conniving and tricky, much like humans I suppose.”

“What do you need her for?” you ask, more sternly than before. “It can’t just be as a pet.” Valina rolls her eyes.

“I mean… you’re not wrong, I guess,” Valina says. “I’m actually really glad you made it up here, human. Saves me some time from having to say it twice.”

“Say what?” you ask. Valina turns to the balcony, gazing out upon the horizon.

“Have you heard of the Ticklecadia, human?” Valina asks. You think for a moment, pulling at the knowledge you had gathered from the books back at the commune.

“I don’t… believe so,” you say.

“Well, I do want the cat as a pet,” Valina says. “She’s to be my special pet, something that daddy had arranged as a birthday present. Look at her, she’s so pretty and strong! There’s a good girl in there, I just know it. We just have to find her, don’t we?”

“By torturing her?” you ask angrily.

“By a little playing, maybe, yes,” Valina says. “That’s just how it goes around here, human. Haha, you still sound so new to everything!”

“Well, no matter what you think of her, Momo’s my friend and I’m not just going to let you torment her like this,” you say.

“Oh, I know,” Valina says, turning around to face you. “Why do you think I had the guard bring her up to my room in front of you? I was hoping that you’d come try to ‘save her’. A little earlier than I expected, but I admire your tenacity, human.”

“And what do you get out of this, exactly?” you ask. “What does this have to do with Ticklecadia?” Valina smiles solemnly.

“Ticklecadia is an event hosted by all the realms of the Featherlands,” Valina explained. “Kingdoms and villages all come together to watch and to submit their champions for representation. These champions battle one another in a massive arena filled with magic and advanced technology to create wonderful, terrifying challenges to overcome. Pits with skittervine, tickle beasts the size of houses, fierce foes trained to tickle anyone into absolute submission! It’s so exciting!” You turn to look at Momo again. Her head slumps over, peering hopelessly at the floor.

“Sounds… dangerous,” you say.

“Of course it is,” Valina says. “That’s why the kingdoms only send the bravest and the strongest… or in my case, the most skilled, nimble, and most… obedient.” Valina smiles as she strokes Momo’s fur from behind. Momo twitches and shivers, her teeth biting down on her lip to stay quiet.

“You want… Momo to fight?” you ask.

“I want Momo to represent the Kingdom of Plumewood,” Valina says, “but I can only do that by making sure that she is as cooperative and supportive as possible. I want to show off my pretty kitty to the whole world, but to do that, she needs to learn who she belongs to.”

“She belongs to no one,” you say. “No matter what you do to her, she’ll never truly be ‘yours’ to own. Valina gals back at you before her lips suddenly pull up into a sharp grin.

“You don’t seem to understand, human,” Valina says. “I always get what I want. It’s not always pretty, and it’s not always fun… well, most of the time it is, but sometimes… all-times… I need to have my pets and toys broken before they can realize where their proper place is.”

“That’s… terrible,” you say.

“Is it?” Valina asks, squinting. “My people found this… Momo… wandering the woods alone, scavenging for food and battling the elements. You’ve seen the kind of creatures that live out there. Here I am, offering her security, food, medicine, shelter, company, and all for a little cooperation. I am offering her a better life, as I’ve told her many times already, but I need to be sure that she understands and upholds my authority. I can’t have my pet turning her back on me when it’s convenient, I need her true and total obedience, and in return I’m offering a better life. Are you starting to get it now?” You fall silent. You can’t seem to argue Valina’s point. The princess, despite suggesting a vile and repugnant position, has been understanding enough to accept you into her room and explain the situation in a way you, as an outsider, can understand. She reasonably appears keen on upholding her end of the deal. Still, the methods involved, while not unusual for the Featherlands, come tainted with displeasure.

“And you’d like her to participate in this… Ticklecadia?” you ask.

“A specimen of her kind is rare anywhere,” Valina says. “She has a naturally high chance of winning it all, given what her kind can do.”

“But it’s still dangerous, right?” you ask. Valina shrugs.

“Not many come out,” Valina says. You turn back to Momo. She sniffles, still staring down at the ground. You raise your hand to place on her shoulder.

“What do you think?” you ask softly. Momo blinks and swallows. She speaks through a shivery exhale.

“... so… tired…” Momo says.

“There is also the matter of what to do with you, human,” Valina says, her grin spreading. You turn back toward her.

“I assume back to the dungeon, if you’re not going to let me free her,” you say.

“I could do that… or…” Valina begins. “I could use your help with this one.”

“My help?”

“I’ve seen you tickled, human, and as much fun as that was, I wouldn’t mind having one of your kind in my pocket,” Valina says. “You’re so daring and cunning, and of course you’re the ‘fabled human hero’ that everyone talks about. Perhaps your cooperation could be arranged without all the messy business.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“If you wanted to protect the Feilyne here from the ticklish cruelty of the Ticklecadia, then perhaps you’d be interested in representing Plumewood in her place.”

“What?” you ask. “Me… do the Ticklecadia?” Valina shrugs and comes closer.

“Would be… just as cool having the human on our side,” Valina says. “Show the whole world what you… and by extension, me, are made of. And all while protecting the pretty kitty from the horrors within.” Valina turns and picks up a feather from the table. Momo’s eyes widen as she sees it. She squirms in place as Valina reaches the feather out to hand to you. “That, or you can help me ‘prepare’ the pretty kitty for the Ticklecadia herself. Show your loyalty and cooperation that way, assuming you’d rather not return to the dungeon. What do you say, human?”