Dragon (S)Layers: The Paladin Gambit

by Tammy Silverwolf

  They crossed into the room and Leslie dove for the garment while Aee was still looking around. She grabbed it up into a ball and reached into the tangle of magic her mind conjured to represent its essence, with her entire being she pulled at the threads of the material's magic until it was spread so thin she could've rode a carriage through it. The tang of its particular 'flavor' faded considerably leaving only a husk in its wake.

  Isira actually lofted a brow at her in curious challenge even as Leslie made shooing motions. “It's not done, I can't show you!”

  Aee sniffed and ruffled his wings a bit. “Hardly sporting--”

  “And neither is ruining a surprise, now shoo!”

  He sniffed again with his gaze lingering on the bundle and ears forward, attentive and curious. He padded one step left and right, drew in a deep breath and huffed it out. “Hmph! Were you not so cute I would think you wishing to be evicted and Her forced to finish my suit!”

  Leslie forced herself to smile. “How is anyone supposed to make you look more magnificent than you already are by spoiling how it's going to look before it's ready? You want good work, sometimes you have to be patient enough to wait for it!”

  “Mrrrrrr. . .” Aee bristled playfully as he prowled closer, he brushed her thigh with the length of his body and swatted her with his tail when he slid past her before he turned back to the door. “Fine, fine, but I hope to see something fairly soon!”

  “That's pretty obvious,” Leslie quipped without thinking. “Any closer and you'd be seeing a lot more than you want to!” She immediately realized her own stupidity and winced when he looked at her, curling himself around Isira's legs as he did so.

  “Mrrr. It's dangerous to speak for me,” he wandered past Isira flicking her leg. “I might be interested in a lot more than you think!”

  Leslie relaxed when he was out of the room and reached into the ties of the fabric once more trying to pull everything back together, all the while Isira watched with a growing smile. By the time Leslie had the essence of the fabric back as it should be she felt the goddess's attention upon her more intent than before, pressing into her and reaching around in her mind for who knew what.

  “You're a rare treat.” Isira said patiently. “I've not met someone who could do that in a century or more.” A bright smile crossed Her lips and She bounded over to Leslie, fingering the cloth with a private little smile. “Yes. Excellent work.”

  “So I suppose that's all it takes to earn a pat on the head?”

  “Is that all you want? Well, by all means!” Isira started to pat her head. “Good job!”

  “You're horrible. . .”

  “I like to think of myself as capricious.”

  “Well, okay. . .” Leslie dampened her lips. She lowered her voice. “Is it wrong for me to wonder if we're doing the right thing? He doesn't seem like a bad person-- uh, thing.”

  “Person is fine.”

  “So why don't we just ask?”

  “And spoil my fun? I think not! Think of this as a game, with no definitive winner and stakes beyond your comprehension. Don't give me that look, you're doing exceptionally well--”

  “Isira.” Leslie hugged the clothing to her chest. “Can I ask you something?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Why are we really doing this? You could have the armor if you wanted-- I'm starting to think you knew what you were getting with me when you gave me these powers. So what's the real prize here?”

  Isira's full lips split into a grin and then a broad smile. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Yeah. . .”

  “So can I.” She winked.

  “That's not fair--”

  “No. It isn't. It's not meant to be, it probably never will be, but it's right.” She rolled her eyes at Leslie's sour look. “Fine.” Without warning She boped Leslie on the nose.

  “Ow!”

  Aee was appeared at the door in an instant with his claws biting into the floor, ears perked forward and eyes attentive, scanning for danger. He looked to the two women. “Is everything all right?”

  “Quite so!” Isira grinned. “Good to know your senses haven't dulled!”

  A subtle hint, maybe? Leslie quickly unraveled the magic in her garment, earning herself a touch of Isira's grace across her mind.

  “You should be more careful, then!” He turned away to do whatever it was he did when he wasn't dancing with or trying to seduce Isira. Leslie rebound the magic in the fabric as the goddess started explaining the situation once more.

  “How many divine agents do you know, hm?”

  “Uh-- I've heard of the sphinx? Sphinxes? Sphinxi? From some of the caravan goers. They always say they're female, though.”

  “They can be either or at their own desire, funnily enough. Aee and I have a particular history trying to figure out which is more appropriate for him, for example! But, neither here nor there-- there are also Cherubs. You might think of them as executors of our estate, hm?”

  “O. . .kay?”

  “We started with dragons, but that didn't work out very favorably, did it?”

  Leslie gaped. “Y- You made them?”

  “We did. Lamentable, I know, but no use crying over spilled milk--”

  “Hey, wait! You're not going to brush--”

  “I can and will. Listen to what I tell you, not what I'm saying: I can't coerce Elisandra's minions to act, I can influence them, but not directly. It's part of our rather antiquated concept of propriety, you see! It's quite difficult to go to each of them and attempt to convince them to act.”

  “So. . .” Leslie drew it out, not seeing the connection.

  Isira dotted her forehead playfully. “So we're going to shake things up a little! Won't it be exciting?!”

  Leslie puzzled it out for a moment. “Wait--. . . .wait, the armor doesn't belong to you?”

  “Of course it does! Or it will if we find it, hm?”

  She was going to make Leslie into a martyr. Was that it? “S--”

  Isira thrust Her hand out in offering. “Don't be obscene! I'd never throw away someone's life. Think of it as inviting them to action. They'll see what I've seen and--”

  “What about Elisandra Herself?”

  A faint sadness crossed Isira's features only to be replaced by a smug grin. “If you'd rather heft Her banner, I won't be offended.”

  Leslie dampened her lips and pondered over the circumstances that'd brought her to that crossroads. She was a nobody destined to die alone and unremembered anyway, but Isira had taken special interest-- even if She was blatantly using her to achieve Her own ends, something in the idea of having a purpose, in standing for something. . .

  Being someone.

  Leslie the Seamstress Paladin.

  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the mere idea, but along with it came a quiet penance; she had suffered for a long time, angry at the world and fed up with what it had done to her. What David had done to her with his addiction.

  She had a chance to be something more. To play a part in a goddess's scheme and maybe-- just maybe-- see something interesting before she died. What could be more fulfilling than that? She took Isira's hand gently. “Just do me a favor?”

  “Hm?”

  “If we're going to do something stupid like, I dunno, tip off a holy war, can I have a four leaf clover?”

  Isira balked. “Luck is a comfort you won't need. Not when you have skill.”

  “And you, obviously.”

  “Naturally!”

  Chapter 7: Fashion and Farces

  “When I first met Her, She said to me something I will always hear when I close my eyes: 'There will come a tomorrow that no one remembers, greeted by people that didn't know you yesterday. That day will be today. This will be the day you changed their lives. I hope you're ready for it.' It is hard to imagine someone would think so highly of a kobold that they would speak of such.

  I hold no grudges for your turning my application down, but She has shown me miracles ar
e possible. The rest of the world will take a little longer to convince, but we're working on it.”

  -Keiter, Cleric of Isira

  Letter to High Priest Colin Marshal at the Temple of Isira, City of Starscale (now known as 'The Hole')

  There was no fanfare, no parades or even a 'huzzah' from some onlooker, but the moment she finished her final stitch, Leslie felt a wave of relief wash over her. All they had to do was get it wrapped around Aee and then. . . .well then Isira would take him aside and do whatever they did and then they could have free reign of the cave while he slept.

  At least in theory.

  Leslie had worked well into exhaustion to make sure the stitching met her satisfaction, and when she was too tired to continue on, she started tinkering around with the magic pushing things one way and the other. She found she could ingrain all manner of triggers into the fabric as easily as if she'd sewn it in with thread and needle-- which is to say it took a hell of a lot of time and work. But it seemed to work. She felt the flair of magic activating when she tightened the threading around her keyword and spoke it.

  Of course she wasn't wearing it, that'd be stupid, but she could feel it spark to life. That was enough to assure her it would work when it came time.

  Leslie bundled up her project and packed it to the side, stepping out in the main chamber. The immortals were sitting in front of the dining area talking quietly. “Hey, uhm. . .” They both looked to her. “Isira? Were we going to do that. . . .thing?”

  “Sure!” She bounded over and threw Her arms around Leslie's shoulders. Her smile was infectious. “All set, then?”

  “Y- Yeah, it's finished.”

  “All segmented, I trust?” She whispered.

  “I know what I'm doing!” Leslie retorted.

  “What's this?” Aee prowled over to them but Isira quickly shooed him away. “Hmph!”

  “A surprise isn't a surprise until its shared willingly, young man!” Isira took Leslie back to her chamber, grabbing up several dresses. She thrust a pair at Leslie with a wry grin. “We'll do two each, I'll drape a piece over him and then you can tie it off. . . .be personable, be engaged and make sure he knows he's the only creature worthy of attention, hm?”

  Leslie parted out the garment as quickly as she could, showing Isira the button and tab eyelets she'd set up to make getting it on easy. Isira took the biggest piece for Herself and picked up one of the fancier dresses. In a flourish She duplicated its look down to the body hugging silk and jeweled accents.

  “Cheater,” Leslie muttered as she grabbed a dress of her own and slipped it on over her clothing.

  “I cheat quite often, you'll find.” The goddess stated matter-of-factly. “It's easier when no one can hold you accountable.”

  “Whats that saying about absolute power corrupting absolutely?”

  “And what comes of the people who follow those corrupt individuals? Hm? Glass houses, dear. Now, then! Put on a smile and-- no, a real smile, come now you can do better. That's a good girl!”

  The two women stepped into the main chamber with exuberant smiles belying their hidden purpose, Leslie followed Isira's lead as was her place, and they carved lazy serpentine patterns through the distance to their host, closer and closer-- his keenly intelligent eyes tracked them both with curiosity and no small measure of excitement at the impending gift he was to receive.

  Or maybe it wasn't the gift at all-- Isira had chosen dresses that flattered their figures while accenting their best features. Even Leslie felt unreasonably confident in her dress and it was reflected in her surefooted movements as she sauntered closer to her quarry.

  Isira brought Her arms around the Sphinx, nuzzling against his throat as She brought the mantle over his back. Leslie was close behind, she hooked his silver aegis across his chest into the mantle and ran her hands over his muscled torso-- she drew in a pull of his natural musk and exhaled against his ear in a hot purr that made him shiver slightly. Isira wasn't far behind with Her own ministrations, trailing Her hand down his back to the base of his tail.

  Aee let out a low sigh that rumbled in his throat like a groan. The two women chuckled in unison. Without waiting for prompting, Isira touched Her head to his neck, planting a kiss against his deeply tanned flesh and murmuring a coo.

  Leslie started to rise, “I'll get the other pieces--”

  “Don't forget to change.”

  “Huh?”

  “I left something for you. . . .make sure you wear it, hm?”

  Aee glanced up at the lowly mortal, flashing a quizzical look. Leslie scampered off when they weren't paying attention only to run head long into what had to have been the most sheer dress she'd ever seen.

  #

  Getting it on wasn't so hard-- it fit a little snug in some places, but overall it stretched well-- but it was so short. How could anyone have considered this party wear for respectable company? Its misty grey fabric was dense in the parts where it needed to be, but left everything else on display and the matching sandals did nothing to help-- Leslie pulled at the fabric warily as she pushed up to the door.

  She was a paladin. She was Isira's paladin at that. She could do this, if not for her, for her patron. A goddess. She served a goddess now, could she really say no? Hesitantly she stepped into the chamber.

  The two immortals looked to her and Aee's mouth opened in mild surprise-- Isira kissed the side of his head, smiling with what was visible of her mouth. Their gaze was warm and appreciative, but every part of her screamed about how damn short the dress was. She could feel confident in anything that went past the knee, that wasn't a crime! Oh, but it wasn't for her benefit, was it?

  It dawned on Leslie as she handed Isira the side panel; this dress wasn't for her benefit at all. She looked to her goddess uncertainly.

  A sly little smile was the only response she got.

  She did cheat often it seemed. Apparently that meant cheating on Her own followers too. But it had the intended effect; Aee couldn't look away. With every move she made, the sphinx watched her, transfixed-- the immortal sphinx brought to heel by a simple seamstress? No, surely not.

  And yet. . .

  The way he lowered his ears and tightened his shoulders, he was carefully submitting himself to the two women, inviting them almost. It was an invitation Isira didn't even think twice bout as she ran Her fingers through his mane and nuzzled him close, spurring him to greater interest in the pair.

  A longing for contact could make anyone more open to things they'd not consider otherwise. Hell, it was the reason she was where she was right now. She'd spent the night with complete strangers-- very strange strangers, in truth-- and even become faithful of the goddess she now served. All of it from the need for contact. What must he have done to find the same comfort?

  Leslie smiled sadly, and crouched down. When she went to slide her side panel under his wing he stretched it upward and for the first time she could see that something had stabbed him and left a vicious trench of scar tissue in its wake. The chocolate colored fur had refused to grow back around it but even with it, he still looked every bit as majestic as the legends had said his kind was. Leslie explored it with her finger, earning a sigh from the creature.