Biomancy

by Desdemona Gunn

  “Lea...” She said, reaching and grabbing both of her hands, holding them with some force, “you know what the problem is.”

  She stared at her, wanting to feign ignorance and failing.

  “We need to bury Ani.”

  “No.”

  “Lea, you can’t just pretend she never—”

  “No, it’s... She wouldn’t have wanted to be buried.”

  “Oh.” Liz sat down, letting go of her hands. Lea got up, walked around the desk on her shaky metal legs, and sat in the chair beside her, grabbing her hands again when she offered them.

  “She told me what she wanted a long time ago. It’s difficult, though.”

  “Oh,” she blurted. “She was military. She was Rebellion...”

  “Yeah.”

  “She wants to be cremated.”

  “By her former squad-mates.”

  “Which includes...”

  “Queen Octavian.”

  “Lea, now’s the time to do that. Before you get started on work, before anyone has any reason to get mad at your research like you’re worried about...”

  “I came out here for a reason. I don’t want the public knowing what I’m doing. They wouldn’t understand—.”

  “Exactly. You haven’t done anything yet. They can’t react to something you haven’t done. Go to her, talk to her, see if you can arrange something.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “Lea, you need this.” Liz stared into her eyes intensely and squeezed her hands. “It’s eating you up. Yes, you’re stressed because of all the town stuff, but you know why you’re irritable. Why you can’t sleep. Why you’re so stressed.”

  “Yeah...”

  “You need to let her go. You need to accept it.”

  “Yeah... You’re right.” Lea sighed and smiled at her. “All right, I’ll talk to her.”

  “Good.” She smiled back at her. “Good. She helped her win the throne. She should be willing to meet you, honored to send her off, and pleased you sought her out.”

  “I hope so.” Liz stood and walked out, and Lea returned to her desk, looking at the papers littering it, lost wandering through her own mind, finding to do with her assumed empire that was quickly growing out of her control, trying not to think of exactly what entailed approaching the queen of Antra.

  Chapter 40: From Whence All Came

  The Strait of Teledrious

  Waves shook the ship, tossing it as nature saw fit, leaving the hundred or so people on board at the ocean’s whim. Rhia was mostly comfortable, as she’d been on a ship twice before, though never so long. Travel wasn’t uncommon for her, but she still preferred coach rides to a ship. The first night, sleep was difficult, but it wasn’t just the churning of waves beneath her.

  It was the first night since her coming out that Illy and Rhia had to share a room, this due to limitations in the ship’s design and the pocketbook of Illy’s parents. Marik and Gwen thought nothing of it, they’d shared beds before, they knew it. Illy had been courteous since her coming out to Rhia, always sleeping in a bedroll, asking what Rhia was comfortable with. She’d asked politely, but Rhia said it wasn’t an issue.

  As they laid, lights out, the sun rising outside with a dress hanging over the porthole, only the sloshing of water and the slow breathing of the Milaric girl beside her, she was unable to sleep. She laid on her back a while, taking in the sounds of the ocean, studying the grain of the ceiling intently, but her focus shifted to the sleeping form of Illy.

  The girl, flaming red hair pulled back into a ponytail, head rested calmly on her pillows making room for her horns as she slept on her right arm, breathed calmly and levelly. Rhia was impressed she was taking the sea travel so well. She expected Illy, a girl born and raised on plains, never taken out on the open sea, would be upending her stomach over the side for most of the dess, but she was running about the open deck looking at how the crew worked the sails, staring at the land from afar, and asking to go up to the crow’s nest (and being repeatedly refused).

  They both slept in nightgowns, both belonging to Illy. When either slept over at the other’s house, Rhia would commonly just sleep in her clothes, as she tended to sleep nude alone. With a turn-long voyage ahead of her, Illy had convinced her sleeping in common pants and a blouse would get old fast. Thusly, she wore a soft, comfy gown that dropped well past her knees and had stretched enough in the chest it was far from modest on her.

  Rhia continued to lie there on her back, staring to her right at the back of Illy’s head, hardly able to process what was happening. Being on the open sea was a strange sensation and threw off her internal balance, making relaxation difficult, but being in the same bed as Illy felt... strange. Her stomach churned in a way that’s cause was a tossup between her friend and the churning water. Either way, she faced the insomnia by laying on the bed helplessly.

  After an indeterminate amount of time, she saw Illy wriggle around, roll onto her back, back onto her other side to face Rhia who, already against the wall, had no more room to give. Illy proceeded to swing a leg over her, put a hand on her chest and continue to sleep away. Rhia laid on her back, covered in Illy for quite a while, limbs pinning her and breasts squished into hers, Illy’s horns resting just above and below her scalp, unsure of how to handle the situation.

  She’s asleep, it’s not like she’s doing it on purpose. There’s nothing romantic here, she’s just getting comfortable. It’s a natural reaction to someone in bed with you. Should I move her? No. Yes? Ugh, I knew I shoulda just stayed up, slept after her. How’d she get on my sleep schedule anyway?

  She slowly moved her arm towards Illy’s leg and started to push on it, but it proved resilient. As it started to move, Illy mumbled, wriggled around onto her back, then swung the leg back over hers again, more of her body planted on top of her. She wriggled about, tightening her legs and grinding her pelvis into Rhia’s leg while wiggling her head to get comfortable. Rhia, unsure of how to respond, stared at the ceiling trying to ignore the short hairs brushing her leg. A piece of her just wanted to leap up and sit in the corner for the rest of the night, but another part... didn’t mind. It felt good. Just right.

  She looked at Illy, sound asleep just centimeters from her face, all four eyes shut in quiet solace, nostrils slowly flexing with her breaths. She felt her friend’s chest heave with each lungful, feeling the pressure against her. They stayed like this awhile as Rhia pondered exactly how she felt on this until she heard Illy grunt and moan. Her face was twisted as though afraid, her breaths grew more ragged and staccato. She lifted her off hand and stroked Illy’s hair, and in return, Illy cuddled up closer, hugging Rhia with her overhanging arm and leg and pushing her head right up against Rhia’s, her forehead to Rhia’s temple.

  She slowly stroked her friend’s hair for a while, noticing her cries calming down. Her breaths returned to normal, her demeanor calm again, more relaxed. Illy’s breaths, now more spaced out, tingled. The hot breath from her barely parted lips rose the hairs on the back of her neck. Rhia considered moving her back onto her back, but she felt... comfortable.

  Rhia awoke to a sunrise blasting in through the porthole, finding Illy was still curled up on top of her. She blinked the sun away, noticing she’d managed to fall asleep somehow. The dress blocking the window was nowhere in sight. She figured it fell to the floor at some point. As she flexed while waking, she noticed Illy showing signs of waking up. Quickly, she closed her eyes and regulated her breaths, keeping her ears open.

  She heard Illy sigh and groan, knock her head against hers gently and kiss her cheek, squeeze a bit with her arms, then heard and felt a sharp inhale. Illy’s body froze for a minute, then she felt her the horn behind her head slide out, her body rise up, and the mattress beside her dip as though Illy was propped on a hand.

  “Shit,” she heard whispe
red, Illy’s scratchy waking voice apparent. “Shit, shit.” The leg over hers rose off, and she felt oddly cold. She instinctively shivered a bit and rolled over, and she felt Illy lay a blanket over her. Good a time as any.

  Rhia groaned a little waking moan through her nose, and rolled over to look at Illy, who was now across the tiny room, still almost in arm’s reach if she tried, staring into a mirror. She hadn’t noticed. Nah, not yet. She wiggled into comfort on her belly, face buried into the pillow but facing Illy, one eye closed, the other half open, half buried in pillow. Illy put her hands on the dresser, sighed, and turned around. She quickly closed her eye, and regulated her breaths.

  There was no sound for a solid minute until she heard a floorboard creak, and felt a hand on her head, stroking her head. She moaned a sleepy little moan, wiggled into further comfort, and stayed ‘asleep.’ The hand left her head, and she opted to ‘wake up.’ She groaned a little louder this time and opened her eyes, propping herself up a little on her squished elbow only to find Illy just taking the gown off, completely naked underneath.

  She whirled around and looked into Rhia’s eyes. Too late, just play it off.

  “Wakin,’ Ills.” She said in her best gravelly, quiet waking voice, eyes squinty in the rising light.

  “Wakin,’ Rhi.” Illy covered herself with the gown and smirked.

  “Sorry, you getting dressed?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to be.”

  “Too early for that.” She rolled back over, smirking once out of sight.

  “Sorry. Um, I think I should probably tell you...”

  “Did you sleep well last night?”

  She paused. “Yeah, slept great, like a rock.”

  “I didn’t think I’d sleep well, what with having to wear a gown and all, and with the water, but I slept so soundly. I just feel refreshed, relaxed. Something about it.”

  Another long pause. “That’s good. Not sure why.”

  “I dunno,” she yawned. The sleep she got was great, but with the insomnia, she knew she hardly got a couple desses worth. “I guess the conditions were right.”

  “I guess so.” She heard a smirk in her voice. “You don’t have to look the other way. You’ve seen me naked before.”

  “I don’t wanna give you the wrong impression, now...” She forced a big smile, making sure the grin was obvious in her speech.

  “Oh pish. I got nothing to hide, and got no intentions.”

  “Does that mean I’m allowed to ogle?”

  “Only if I am.”

  “Never said you couldn’t,” she said as she rolled over. Illy was bent over, still naked, grabbing clothes. Rhia crossed her legs under the blankets.

  “Well, you’ve also never said I couldn’t grab your ass, doesn’t mean I’m gonna.”

  “Why not?”

  Illy turned around and stared at her. “You’re awful frisky for someone uncomfortable with my take on ladies. Don’t flirt too hard, you’ll give me the wrong impression.”

  She smirked. “Sorry, like I said, too early. Not right in the head.”

  “I guess. I’m not used to you dishing back at me. Might be a run for my money, you keep this up.”

  “I’ll try to channel my inner virgin, stay more innocent for the rest of the wake.”

  “Which one of us is the virgin again?”

  “Weirdly, the overtly flirtatious lesbian,” Rhia quipped.

  “Depends on your definition of ‘virgin,’ I suppose.”

  “Please. You’ve only kissed a girl once. You’re a super virgin.”

  “You’d never guess it.”

  “Probably wouldn’t guess I’m not one.”

  “Probably not. Channel that inner virgin anyway, we’re dealing with my parents all wake. Don’t need them knowing about your past dickings.”

  “Dickings?”

  “Dickings,” she nodded thoughtfully.

  “And you say I make sex sound unappealing.”

  “You do! Nobody wants to get with someone calls it ‘coitus’ or ‘fellatio.’ Fact of life, love.”

  “Just ‘cause I’m proper doesn’t mean I’m unappealing.”

  “Exactly. You’re plenty sexy and appealing despite your vocabulary.”

  “I’m sexy and appealing because of my vocabulary.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep,” she chuckled as she donned the last of her clothing. “Now get dressed so we can head out. Some crewmen said they’d teach me about deep-sea fishing if the winds were right. I’d like a lady with me, kind of a sausage fest up on the deck. Oh, and Rhi?”

  “Yeah?” She sat up in the bed.

  “Happy One Sixty.” She smiled.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s your ‘vert, dummy. One sixty turns old, ya old lady.”

  “You’re a turn older than me!”

  “Whatever, ‘vert-y girl!” Illy smirked and walked out. Rhia uncrossed her legs and watched her close the door, breathing out sharply as it did.

  “Oh dear.”

  Chapter 41: I Got a Bad Feeling About This

  The Village of Ish'Gael, The Isle of Xin

  Deep blue tendrils flashed in the middle of the growing gardens, a sight which warmed Elon’s heart every time he came. He always brought new recruits to the garden first so they could see the ecological beauty while marveling at the scale of the castle hidden by the trees. After they were done marveling at both, he’d take them in and show them to their station.

  The garden was coming along beautifully thanks to his lovely lady friend. The houses were left standing, though vines overgrew them entirely as moss grew on their walls. It looked as though these structures had been built centuries ago. All save for the smithy, which was now active and billowing smoke straight up.

  The woman beside him looked around at the garden, stunned by both the buildings and the gorgeous gardens themselves before turning around and staring in awe at the castle.

  “Welcome to the town of Ish’Gael, and to the Black Keep.”

  “That sounds... both foreboding and sinister.”

  “I suppose its official name is Torgos Keep, but we keep things simple. It’s made of black stone. The Black Keep. It works. Come on, let me show you the pub slash lounge, where I’ll leave you to relax while I work out a time with Leana.”

  The two of them wandered through the now quite well-lit corridors until they reached the brewpub, which sat thankfully empty at this time of dess. After seeing the hookah room, she decided to grab a light drink and enjoy a smoke while she waited. Seeing as there was a party of Nojerna in there already, he assumed she was content to be social and left her to her devices.

  He left the tavern and made his way slowly to Lea’s office. Well you’re being a nice little lapdog, aren’t you, Elon? This wasn’t the first time the thought crossed his mind.

  Shut up. I’m getting paid to do this.

  With how she treats you, you just put up with it?

  What else would I do?

  Last person treated you like this lost an arm.

  I know. I was young and stupid.

  You were you. Who are you now?

  Smarter.

  Are you? Or just tamer? So nice and safe when you got your lips planted firmly on her ass.

  Shut the fuck up. I’m researching; I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember.

  What are you researching? Nothing. She’s researching, you’re doing her menial work. Never mind me, though, just go about your business. Just do whatever she says.

  Should I still be dialoguing with myself in my head?

  Eh, I’ve been doing it for enough time and there’s nothing wrong with me yet.

  The corridors continued to twist and turn, leading to lab after lab, b
edroom after bedroom, closet after closet until finally he reached the office of Leana Incubore, which he casually walked into.

  “Lea!” The office was as spacious as he remembered, though was now adorned with furniture, including a desk littered with papers, and tapestries on the wall. She, like Elon, knocked windows into the walls, though hers were adorned with stained glass and had massive blackout curtains able to roll out at a moment’s notice.

  A familiar-looking black-haired biomancer sat behind the desk, fingers bridged under her chin, hair beginning to grow out. Her muscles were tight and visible under her silk shirt, showing off that she was, indeed, taking care of herself.

  Elon also noticed her wheeled chair she got modified. The Chief had designed her legs, but they proved shaky and uneven. She ended up making a wheelchair designed by The Chief tens of turns back. It suited her well, and she seemed more comfortable.

  “Elon. Welcome back. You have the archaeologist-historian-biologist-librarian, I take?”

  “Yeah. She’s a professor from Octavian University: Kandra. Teaches life sciences, sentients studies, archaeology, history on various sentients, and other stuff.”

  “Other stuff?”

  “Irrelevant stuff.”

  “You said she had skills I might find interesting?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t get much out of her in public, but she claims to be a demonologist.” Lea leaned forward slightly, eyes dilating by a tiny margin. Elon grinned. “I found her by sheer chance out getting a drink last night and I overheard her talking about tending a library, going into a species-al diatribe, and telling what appeared to be an old college friend or something about her renewed interest in archon summoning.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yeah. I’m in the dark as to a lot of your plans, ideas, and theories, but based on what I’ve heard, I had a feeling you’d take great interest in a summoner of archons.”