Stranded on The Southern Continent

I decided to sleep on the edge of the fortress courtyard. From here, my comrades were silhouettes against the raging bonfire. Dancing, singing and drinking. Their voices would carry, outside the fortress, into the hidden places that only the animals of the Emel Weald called home. I watched for a while–even considered joining. But instead, I rolled over, and fell into a deep slumber.

Another dream. I was back in the village of Tangle, with just my trusty spear–the village's namesake.

I tried throwing Tanglewood, wanting to again feel the spiritual connection I had with the weapon. The slightest movement of my claw could influence its trajectory. No more difficult than moving my tail or flexing my claws. After several twists, Tanglewood collided with a tree on the edge of the village’s clearing. I visualized the spear returning to me.

It disappeared in a cloud of golden particles and reappeared in my hands. Two more times I tried, and each time, the same effect. This is what the dream was trying to teach me! I laughed and smiled, hugging the spear close to my chest. The fourth time, disappointingly, it stopped working. Ah, guess there’s limits…still a badass new ability.

Tanglewood lay atop a patch of multihued flowers, looking like another plant growing from the same spot. Just like when I first found it, all those weeks ago.

Without the amber-eyed elf, this place felt kinda lonely. Where was my mentor anyway? Was my subconscious still pissed at Windthrow, and it shifted the blame onto another dark elf, am I that petty!? And when was I gonna wake up?

The village felt like it careened on its axis. A horrible sense of vertigo overwhelmed me. Like the ground had disappeared beneath my talons, and I was falling. Space seemed to shift, expand and contract. Breathing like an all encompassing god!

A great shadow passed overhead, covering the clearing in darkness. Shade that sucked the color and life from all it touched.

I looked to the sky. What could cast such an enormous and terrible shadow? No sky, no sun, clouds, or moon. A twisted serpent of impossible length dominated the horizon. Scales that glimmered, shifted and morphed –how the night sky must have looked during the earliest days of the universe. Two colossal eyes opened, shimmering a pale green. Against that many-winged void, they looked like drifting planets

The eyes looked at me. My body was engulfed, drowning in this thing's gaze.

I heard a voice, echoing inside my own skull: Found you. My lost creation.

This was a paternalistic, almost loving, gaze. But a twisted love, more possession than affection.

I couldn’t catch my breath! I was suffocating!

Then, relief. Its crushing gaze was blocked! I saw the broad back of the amber-eyed dark elf, his arms outstretched. He was protecting me from its suffocating gaze. Like a boulder standing strong against raging flood waters. I reached out towards his back, to offer any support I could…

The dream collapsed around me, I was pulled back to reality.

---

I slashed, clawed and kicked at everything around me! Snarling and biting at imaginary enemies. My body moved on its own; I tore up my own bedroll like a wild animal.

My body was on fire with fear and rage. On all fours now, feeling my throat start to contract. My Arcane Breath was activating, pointed right towards my shocked comrades. Part of me was returning, but it was too late!

Windthrow dove on top of me, tackling us into the dirt. The wind was knocked from my lungs; I felt my arcane breath fizzle harmlessly. With his full body weight atop me, he restrained my arms against my body.

I was glad that Windthrow prevented my Arcane Breath, but the wild part of me thought an enemy was attacking!

As we were struggling, our limbs intertwining, gradually a different feeling began to take hold. My mate pinning me triggered some instinctual submissive urge and…I was getting very excited. It didn’t matter that we were in public; if anything, my instincts wanted my rivals to see.

I leaned up to kiss Windthrow, straining against his hold, he mistook it for an attempted bite. Thank god he did, because he scooped me up and carried me to a secluded spot behind the fortress wall.

He leaned my back against the stone wall, I’d finally stopped acting like a wild she-beast at this point. I was afraid to look at him –imagining his deep green eyes overcome with anger, or worse, disgust. When I lifted my head, and peeked from behind my claws, I saw only concern. Windthrow was worried about me…of course he was worried about me! We were friends, and lovers.

I embraced him, burying my face in his muscular chest as he knelt in front of me. All the emotions of the last few days –Lancet, the battle, my questions about our relationship– became a torrent of tears. This was ugly crying. The kind with the deep sobs, where you can’t catch your breath. A nagging internal voice whispered: Don’t you dare cry, don’t show weakness.

But I’d already started, and it didn’t matter if I was a man or woman! Everyone needs a good cry.

As I sobbed, Windthrow stroked my hair and hummed. A gentle, familiar melody. It reminded me of gray mornings, gentle snow blanketing the ground. The sound of my father leaving for work, while I was still in bed.

After a while I stopped crying. Pulling myself from his chest, I looked up at him. He smiled down, and I couldn’t resist. I kissed Windthrow, savoring the softness of his lips. The feel of his tongue. More than anything I wanted to prolong this wonderful moment. To push him onto his back, pull my wraps off and press our bodies together. But, my animalistic side had caused enough trouble today. So instead, after allowing our tongues one last dance, I broke off our kiss.

We were both panting, and Windthrow’s dark skin was flushed. Maybe he was still winded from wrestling with me earlier? Eh, same difference.

He sat cross legged in front of me. We could hear the clamor of the camp, just over the wall, but here it was just us.

“Vylet, what happened? Are you alright?”

His tone was measured, but sincere.

“I had a really bad nightmare. Something terrible and huge was watching me. Like a dragon or a serpent…it took up the entire sky.”

Windthrow was silent, looking down at the ground between us.

“I don’t want to worry you, Vylet.” We heard a soldier laughing loudly from over the wall.

Windthrow continued, “But, maybe it relates to your species, somehow?”

“Are you saying the thing I saw was my Dad?!” I said, probably too loudly.

“I hope not…” I added, in a hushed tone.

“No, no! Not necessarily! Vy, I wouldn’t worry about it!”

Ah, I see now. Windthrow was afraid of how I’d react; he was handling me with kid gloves.

I took a deep breath, somewhere in the forest a flock of birds took off.

“There’s another thing…I’ve been struggling recently with my instincts. Again.” I avoided his eyes, looking past his shoulder. “And I have questions about us…our relationship. Like, are we a thing? You and me? No way…right?”

Windthrow put his hand on my scaled leg, and flicked his eyes downwards.

“I’ve never been in that kind of relationship, Vylet. And my parents, I never knew them,” he said. “Relationships like this are new to me, I don’t know what it's supposed to be like.”

“I’m sorry, about your parents I mean. And I’ve never been in a relationship either. Not even with a woman.”

I felt antsy, embarrassed. Like I was opening up about the most pathetic parts of myself and saying: C'mon! Take a peek!

“A woman…? You have feelings for women too? Or only men. Help me understand.”

“That’s not what I meant. I like men! Too much sometimes…just you though! I don’t like women, I think. Maybe I do. Both. I like both.”

After finishing I could hardly stand to look in the general direction of Windthrow, my tail was slapping the wall as it nervously swished. I’d never admitted that to anyone before!

My eyes were shut tight, when I felt my mate grasp both my hands and move closer.

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t think about this stuff before I was free either, and before I met you.” He looked around, searching for the right words. “Sometimes, I’m not sure of my own feelings.”

“Me too! And we don’t need to rush into anything. We haven’t even finished our journey together yet!”

He traced his hand up the side of my body, then he softly cupped my cheek.

“I’ve never felt like this about a woman, I’ve been…intimate before. But with you, I want to get to know you, to feel you, explore you…”

My breathing was shallow, and I subconsciously shuffled on the ground. I stared at him, feeling a heat growing inside me.

I gritted my fangs, and took his hand.

“Not here Windthrow,” I said. “Can I ask you a favor?”

He looked disappointed, before saying, “Anything. What is it?

“My body, my instincts, can you help me with them?”

He raised an eyebrow, and eyed the length of my figure with hungry eyes.

“What does that entail?”

“Nothing like that! Probably. Just be patient with me, let me know when I’m acting off.”

“I can do that,” he replied.

“Windthrow! Vylet! Where are you?” Delemin shouted, loud enough for both Windthrow and I to jump.

“We better see what he wants, let's talk more later,” Windthrow said.

I let him pull me to my feet.

We hugged. I savored his warmth, his smell, the feel of his skin.

Together we walked back to the courtyard interior, his hand holding my wrist.

---

As we walked aside the mossy wall, I remembered that I’d technically “leveled up”. Wasn’t that why I wanted to help out in the first place?

My imaginary character sheet would look like:

Vylet - Level 4 Spellblade Species Ability: Arcane Breath, Natural Weapons (Claw, Talons)

Class Abilities: Action Surge

Spells: Jump, Frost Ray

Weapons: Tanglewood (Magic Spear)|Guided Throw, Bound Weapon

I’m not sure if my Tanglewood ability –how I could guide it mid throw, and return it to my hand– is it’s ability, or mine. I’ll assume it’s Tanglewoods. In DND terms, I’m still a beginner. But this wasn’t a game. Despite my instincts, I shouldn’t force myself into fights to “level up”.

I’d end up dead. And worse, I’d upset my mate!

Windthrow and I were met with Delemin and Lancet, mid-argument. Both were standing among a dozen different items, all spread out on the courtyard ground. A sword with an orange sheen, a transparent crystal, a silver dagger, a few wands, and other esoteric items. Some Rangers and Warriors were moving crates and barrels into the courtyard, from the interior of the fort, occasionally pausing to watch the argument from the sidelines.

“Are you sure! It’s not fair on everyone else! Shouldn’t we split it up in town?” Delemin said, exasperation evident on his weathered face.

Lancet rolled her eyes before responding, “We owe them. We wouldn’t have all this if not for them, especially her.”

She nodded in my direction.

“Ah Vylet and Windthrow! Are you alright Vylet? I’m sorry about what you saw last night, I understand if it was…traumatic,” Delemin said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

It makes sense that he was worried…from his perspective we went to a room full of bones, and the next morning I freaked out.

“Don’t worry about me, I had a stress nightmare…or something like that. I’m okay now though!” I said, giving Windthrow’s hand a quick squeeze. “Is all this from inside the fort?”

“Yes, and you and Windthrow get first pick,” Lancet proclaimed.

“I was just telling Lancet that we could go back to town and then split it up, none of this has been identified yet and–” Del started.

“No. They get the first pick, now. The more people we show this to, the more complicated it’ll get,” Lancet said.

“You want us to have the first pick? Including me…?”

Lancet kicked at the dirt.

“Vylet, you saved me. This has nothing to do with anything else,” she said.

“Windthrow, what do you think?” I asked.

He kneeled near the silver dagger, only half paying attention to our conversation. The sun reflected off its pristine mirror surface, bathing his face in otherworldly light.

“I don’t see the harm. And I’ve been looking for a reliable close range blade.”

He looked up at me, like a kid asking for permission to eat candy. God he looked cute. It was nice to be reminded that even he could occasionally be enamored with a pretty trinket.

“I guess we’ll get first pick! As long as it's okay with Del,” I said.

Delemin looked at us, then at all the watching men and women we’d fought besides.

“Of course. You deserve the first pick. But we don’t have anyone here who can tell us what these things do. They just have a certain magical look about em.”

With the matter concluded, Lancet stomped off, shouting to her Rangers to stop gawking and start packing up camp. Del sat nearby, like a grizzled veteran, waiting to see our picks.

Windthrow was already practicing a few swings with the dagger. It looked like an extension of his arm. A silver streak moving through the air, with deadly precision. Boys were so easy.

“Vylet! You wouldn’t believe this dagger! It’s so light! But this edge is unbelievable!” He performed a quick upwards slash, making a high pitched whistle as the dagger cut through the air. “The craftsmanship is impeccable! Those Imperials were bastards, but they knew how to make a weapon!”

I wanted to say: Aren’t you glad we decided to help out!

Besides inflating my ego, it wasn’t worth causing any more trouble. Anyway, I was in the midst of my own dilemma. I already had a trusted weapon: Tanglewood!

Would it be okay to take a backup weapon, like a sword? But wasn’t that cheating? My mind flashed an image of Windthrow and Lancet embracing, while the sidepiece in the scenario (me) watched on. I bared my fangs and shook the thought from my head.

I’m not gonna cheat on Tanglewood! Even if some of these *probably* magical weapons were kinda sexy.

So, what to do? If I didn’t pick anything after Lancet stood up for us, she’d beat my ass–or be really angry.

While I was lost in thought, Lec –that weaselly gnome 'explorer'– wouldn’t take his eyes off me. He took notes in a small book. I’d look up, hoping to catch him, but he’d pretend to be examining the weapons on the ground.

I was sick of it! If he wanted something he could ask me himself.

Hopping to my feet, I flashed my fangs and confronted him.

Lec froze like a deer in headlights. Maybe he was expecting some of the nearby guild members to help out. They, very blatantly, pretended not to notice.

“Lec!” I shouted.

He let out a small squeal.

“What exactly is so interesting about me!? IF you have questions, ask me yourself! Don’t be sneaking around–”

As I was berating the pitiful gnome, my eye was drawn to the open barrel next to him. Something that’d been pulled outta the fort no doubt. Mostly general supplies, which they’d be taking back to their town.

Inside the barrel was something I thought I’d never see again.

A small acoustic guitar. Not a fiddle or a lute, or any of that medieval crap –no offense, actually some of the music I’ve heard here has been kinda good.

My attention was pulled off Lec, who scurried off somewhere. I picked up the guitar, trying not to scratch it’s finish with my claws. My hands were shaking as I cradled it.

A gorgeous instrument, made out of what looked like (but probably wasn’t) cherry wood. A dark wooden fretboard, polished bronze tuning pegs, 6 copper colored strings. I gave it a strum with the back of my claw. A warm and balanced tone, it sounded heavenly. Was this really from the depths of a damp ruined fort?

This was better than anything I owned in the old world. I was remembering now, playing guitar was one of my hobbies. It's not like I was ever any good…but how could something like this even be here. Holy shit!

“I’m taking this!” I shouted to Delemin.

He perked up, right out of his nap, casting his eyes downwards when he saw what I was holding.

“Now, I’m not in charge of you. Especially since Lancet told me off earlier. But…are you able to play that? Physically…?” he said.

Del had a point, I’d have to blunt my claws to play it. And how in the world would I fret with only three fingers. But…

“I’m taking it Del. I’ll figure it out,” I said.

“Gotcha! The weird lute is all yours. But let me know if you change yer mind!”