by J. J. Pavlov
"Then you're the original." Lowering her gaze, she replies. "Because I don't even remember the moment when I returned to real space. I woke up in the middle of the desert, not knowing how much time had passed."
She then proceeds to relate the story that led up to this moment, starting with the last thing she can remember: Maou-mama, whom she only calls the demon queen, sending her through the transportation circle. Her memory cut out the moment she was ripped from my body.
Chapter 57 - Sultanah's Arrival
The next time she regained her consciousness, she was at the edge of a small oasis in the middle of a seemingly endless desert. Even though she was naked, her skin was perfectly fine under the scorching sun shining down on her. There was no physical discomfort, but a strange feeling of incompleteness nagged at the back of her head.
She found piles of animal bones all around the oasis, but no living beings were near her. When she tried to undo her transformation, it worked; she turned into the towering figure of a Crawling Chaos that she remembered waking up as in the demon castle.
At that point, she still believed it was a dream, and that being sent to that place was part of the training the demon queen had talked about.
Thirty-seven days at the oasis, with only the occasional scorpion or desert mouse to eat, taught her that this was her new reality. And she also realized this was not part of the training and that the demon queen had abandoned her.
With even the scarce meals turning scarcer, she decided to stop waiting and find a way back on her own. Siphoning the all the water from the oasis, she left it for dead and departed on an uncertain journey through the sheer endless desert.
More than thirty days later, ready to give up on life itself as her hunger grew unbearable, she finally saw the glittering lights of waves reflecting the sunlight in the far distance. Stumbling and rolling across the dunes, she made her way there as fast as she could, ignoring the rumbling inside the depths of her unfathomable body.
The life-giving river created a belt of greenery on each side of its shores. Birds were catching fish from the water, and a herd of large mammals resembling lean hippopotamuses was submerged up to their ears to avoid the midday heat.
She had no hesitations and burst out into her real form. Her body had already suffered from the lack of food for the longest time and turned skinny, almost skeletal. But salvation was right before her, as she latched onto the animals and devoured them one after another, not letting one of them escape from her clutches.
Their powerful jaws and thick skin were useless against the primordial force that is a Crawling Chaos suffering from cosmic hunger.
Once done with her feast and no more living beings were nearby, she regained her senses and decided to follow the river downstream. Back in her human form, she traveled many days before finally reaching civilization.
It was a walled town, and from afar, she could see that the guards on the walls and at the gates were humans. In other words, the demon queen had really abandoned her and left her to die in this desert, located in human territory. At the time, she was still wondering why.
When she entered the city, her nakedness covered in skins and furs of the animals she ate along the way, she realized that this world wasn't such a convenient place. While the language the demons spoke was not Japanese, she had no problem understanding them and speaking it herself. But the humans spoke in a tongue that didn't get automatically translated.
Furthermore, her light skin made her stick out among the people of this nation even further, garnering unwanted attention. Average citizens shunned her, children laughed at her wild appearance, but she was like an open invitation to the shady kind of people.
As expected, a group of six men surrounded her in an alleyway. They talked to her while staring at her body and licking their lips. It was clear what they wanted, but she no longer had any hesitations about committing murder after killing all those animals for her own survival.
In the end, she emerged from the alleyway in new clothes and a leather pouch filled with some money. She was lucky that one of the men was around her height, although the feeling of wearing somebody else's clothes didn't sit too well with her. The money would get her started on putting together her own wardrobe.
Days passed as she used up all the money gathered from the dead bodies of the thugs. All this time, she had no aim and only lived from one minute to the next. But a plan was forming in her mind; she would return to her mother and confront her about what she did to her. For that, she needed to know how to get back.
However, being unable to speak to anybody, she could only go about searching blindly. Even in her previous life, she had never been good at foreign languages, so without anybody helping her, this was too big a hurdle to overcome on her own.
After many ups and downs, she learned from somebody who could brokenly speak her language that if she traveled further downstream, she would reach the capital of the nation. It was a start.
What she had not learned was how far the capital was away. For the most part, she walked on her own two feet and stayed in the occasional villages and cities for a few days each. Even though she had learned that her new body was untiring, her spirit was always a hair's breadth away from breaking under the weight of her solitude and inability to speak to people.
It took her over two months to reach the capital.
"... and that's how I got here." My other self concludes her story.
"Nonono. You skipped the most important part." I rebut while waving my hand. Her making it to the capital is one thing, but ending up in the royal harem isn't something she can just handwave like that.
"Two Chloes... haaah... haaah..." Hestia lets out a hot breath that clearly indicates what she's thinking about even if she hadn't said a word. We were conversing in Japanese and eventually lost her attention, but now I know that she was daydreaming about us all this time.
"Not helping." I cast a sideways glance at her and say in annoyance.
"Who's that? She's really beautiful." Fulanah looks at the currently wingless angel and asks in Imperian, causing the latter to blush from the compliment given to her by a person who's pretty much me.
"Not now!" Holding a hand out into my other half's line of sight, I block her view on Hestia and return her attention to me.
"I didn't take me for a slave owner, though." Staring into my eyes, she frowns.
"It's not what you think. I'll explain later." Sighing, I rub my temples. I've gotten over the initial shock of seeing a doppelganger of myself, but it's all rushing back to me now.
Pretty much all doubts about her being me have been blown away by her story. But throughout it all, I've been paying attention to her every movement and understand now that the girl in front of me is a perfect copy of me not just in appearance but also in personality. Tiny quirks I know I have and find quite annoying - just not annoying enough to work on changing them - are ingrained into her gestures and manners.
We're both Kuroe Makoto, and even if she thinks that I'm the original while she's just a clone, I don't believe that's necessarily the case. My body was split into two equal pieces, and in my opinion, neither is a lesser person because of that. She was just unconscious for a while is all. After all, her memories from before the split are the exact same as mine.
"But I'm glad that she didn't abandon me." My other half suddenly mutters to herself, and tears appear in the corners of her eyes. The realization that it was all just an accident, and Maou-mama doesn't even know about her existence has finally dawned on her. "All this time, I thought I did something wrong."
"Is that really something to cry about?" I tilt my head and wonder. She's me, so maybe I would be crying as well if I had been in her shoes.
"You're right." Wiping her eyes, Fulanah puts on a confident smile. "I can work things out with her then."
"Before that, tell me the rest of the story." Sighing, I put a hand on my other half's shoulder and try to move the conversation along. I got pretty invested i
n her fate and can't help but wonder how she ended up in this place.
"We should do this another time." Fulanah turns her head slightly and signals me with her eyes. I glance around and realize that the entire harem is surrounding us, staring in confusion. It must seem like a mirror came to life and is now talking to the person that is reflected in it. "I kind of made them believe I was a mute."
"That's clever." I raise my eyebrows. "And when did you decide to turn your skin dark as well?"
"After the first town. I drew too much attention from all kinds of shady people. You?" She replies and returns the question.
"Same. But why blue eyes?"
"I saw some people from this nation with them, and it looked amazing. What's your reason?"
"Forgot to change them. I had them like this before I came here and didn't pay attention." The time I realized was when I looked in the bronze mirror last night, and at that point, it was already too late to change it since many had seen it. It's my sort of luck that it's not that rare for people to have blue eyes here.
"Where were you before this?" Fulanah tilts her head in wonder. "Did you arrive at the intended destination of the teleportation?"
"That's a story for another time." I feel bad for what she went through all on her own when I think back to my adventures with all the people I met. "Since we're already here, I'd love to meet the sultan."
"The sultanah. It's a she." She quickly corrects me.
"Oh." That's when I realize that she should like women just like I do and that she's surrounded by beautiful ones all day long. I thought the catch was that there was a man above them all, but now I learn that it's a lesbian harem!
"She'll come here soon. The sun has gone down." When she points outside the window, a gasp runs through the girls surrounding us, and they scatter. Some return to their alcoves and start picking out clothes, others fix their makeup or hair. "Yeah, it's always a scramble for her favor."
"And has she picked you before?" I ask with a suggestive grin.
"I'm her favorite." She replies with a similar expression, and I raise an eyebrow. It hurts to say this about myself, but I don't find many charms in me, and I definitely lose against everybody else here when it comes to the beauty department.
"Then I should be, too." Wiping away my self-deprecating thoughts, I joke around. "Think she'd want us both at once?"
"Oh, I just thought of something." Fulanah and I suddenly proclaim at the exact same moment. This is the chance for something I would have never even dared to imagine possible, although I have seen it in my dreams on more than one occasion, usually when stressed: Selfcest - an act of passion with oneself manifested in another body.
"Is my face as red as yours?" I ask my other half, and she nods with an impish smile.
"Wassala sultanah!" A woman in servant clothes announces from the door to the harem room, and everybody frantically finishes up what they were doing. Some aren't done with their makeup or hair and look to teeter on the verge of a mental breakdown because of that.
"Even I know that this is an announcement for the arrival of the sultanah." I cross my arms and state confidently.
"You're right. As expected of me; quick on the uptake." My other half praises me with a sarcastic expression - the very same I would have made if our roles had been reversed. Why am I hurting myself so?
Two servants dressed in outfits that look higher ranked than those I've seen so far walk in through the doorway first. Then comes a woman I can only describe as an Amazon; she towers over everybody else, with dark skin and bulging muscles that make her look like the statue of a goddess carved from obsidian. Many girls in the harem stare at her with the eyes of schoolgirls in love, and I glance sideways at my other half.
Is that the sultanah? I'm not in the least attracted to that bulky appearance of hers, so why would another me be? Are there some deeply-seated differences between us after all?
But Fulanah's expression tells me that she isn't interested in her either. Instead, she tilts her head as if to look past the giant woman. Then this must be a personal guard of the sultanah, who's hidden behind her huge frame.
The Amazon peers through the room with an expressionless gaze, her sharp dark brown eyes taking in everything that may be out of the ordinary. Of course, they stop on Hestia and me longer than anybody else, but it seems that she was informed about our presence already.
"Ayna hia Fulanah al okra?" A mischievous-sounding voice suddenly asks, and a girl in a white dress with plenty of golden ornaments peeks out from behind the bodyguard's hip. She has a relatively light complexion for a person of this nation, curly black hair, and hazel green eyes. But the fact that she's so small and petite is all I see.
"You're going to jail!" I point at my other half in accusation.
"Wait, that's only because Uzma is so tall!" She defends herself with this flimsy excuse.
"Tell that to the officer!"
"The age of consent in this nation is the first visit of Red Riding Hood!"
"Hey, 'visit of Red Riding Hood' is my invention! Oh, wait..."
"Chloe." Hestia tips on my shoulder, and I turn my head. But I stop halfway toward the angel girl because the black bodyguard has approached our location and is standing right in front of us.
"Fulanah speaks Imperian?" The little girl that is the sultanah pops her head out from behind her guard like before and asks in our language. Only when she's this close do I notice that she's slightly taller than Kamii.
Oh god. I'm going to jail.
No, Kamii just happens to have an appearance close to a human teenager at the apparent age at which frequently invites misunderstandings. As a dark elf, she's fully grown and capable of giving consent. She's completely legal, officer!
But I do have to admit that the sultanah only appeared so tiny because the closest thing to compare her to was somebody towering more than a head over me. She does put things into perspective, especially when looking at her from up close.
"Malika speaks my language?" My other half blinks her eyes in utter surprise. "Why did you never tell me?"
"I thought you were mute!" Puffing up her cheeks, the girl apparently named Malika complains. But then her lips widen into a grin that shows off a pointy snaggletooth, as she looks up at Fulanah. "But this is great. Now you can talk to me."
Then she spots me, and she does a double take; her eyes go round in bafflement and her jaw flaps open as she stares at me and then the other me again.
"Two Fulanah?" She mutters and tilts her head, which would be steaming from overload if this were a work of fiction.
"Two Chloe." Hestia repeats herself from earlier, even though it sounds like she's correcting Malika. Something else is steaming in her case.
"You are the slave the other Fulanah brought?" Pulled back by the angel girl speaking up, the sultanah closes her mouth and turns to eye her. "You are lovely, indeed. No makeup, all natural."
She scrutinizes Hestia's face and correctly analyzes that the latter doesn't use any aid to look as stunning as she always does. But I pride myself in the knowledge that she has terrible bed hair each morning, which requires some work before it's presentable.
"She's not a slave." I step in and explain.
"Chain." Malika points at the object in question, and I look down at it. Considering it's a part of my body, I eventually forgot about its existence.
"Maybe now is the time?" I sigh and look at Hestia, who understands what I mean. "Be ready."
"For what?" Both Fulanah and Malika ask in unison, the former in curiosity while the latter is a little wary. Uzma stirs behind her, thinking that we may be assassins who will try to strangle the sultanah with the chain - the only object we have on us that could be used as a weapon after everything else has been taken from us. If only she knew the truth about me.
"Greet a messenger of the gods!" I announce with a grand gesture and let out Hestia's wings from inside my pocket dimension by pulling off the fake chain and collar.
Uzma pulls
Malika back as a precaution, just as the fallen angel's black wings spread out in their full glory and nearly knock over my other half. A murmur runs through the room, and harem girls and servants alike are awestruck by the extra limbs that seemed to come out of nowhere.
"Fata?" The sultanah asks, also awed by Hestia's complete appearance but less so than the others. She seems to have knowledge of the winged people. "But black feathers."
"A curiosity, isn't she?" I feel like a circus presenter. "And all mine."
Considering where we are, I make this fact very clear by putting my arm around Hestia's shoulder. The latter snuggles into my embrace with a content expression.
"Who are you?" Furrowing her brow, Malika asks in surprise. "You are not a commoner. Too self-confident."
"Why, thank you." I glance at my other half, to whom that kind of compliment doesn't apply. The difference between the two of us lies in how much we learned from Maou-mama before we were separated from her. I have some measure of regal bearing, which she lacks completely; she's still only a Japanese high school girl, albeit one who experienced some hardships even I haven't. "And you're right. I'm not a commoner."
"Then who?" Growing impatient, the sultanah asks once again.
"I would like to discuss this in a more private setting." Not letting myself get intimidated by her attitude, I glance around us. Once again, the harem has drawn closer to get a better look, even while they don't understand what we're talking about.
"You are lucky I am patient, and you have me interested." Giving me a feisty grin, Malika states and puts her hands on her hips. Then she lifts a hand and twirls a finger in the air. "Mas-hul al-fatih."
It takes a moment for her words to sink in, but when she begins to tap her foot in annoyance, the harem girls start clearing out the room. Within seconds, only the sultanah, Uzma, and the female servants that followed her are left. Of course, neither Hestia nor my other half moved.