Chương 81: Leaving Squirt

Less than an hour later, a runner from his lordship came for Squirt, and she dutifully trotted off to see what the man needed now. She hadn't been expecting this.

"You'll be going on without me to Gloomwood," Lord Prince Ranin announced from his position staring down at the map. He glanced up.

"Gloomwood isn't like the last two. There is reportedly no issue with feybeasts. This will instead be a cataloguing mission and opportunity for you to conduct research. Squirt raised a brow, tactfully checking the personnel present. Lord Norland, Lady Cirn, and Chief Huntress Lobelia, who had changed from one step below hostile to now begrudging respect for reasons Squirt didn't care to acknowledge. She didn't trust it. Not one bit.

Lord Norland followed her eyes with a frown before saying, "My daughter will no more discipline you for your words than I would, Lady Athereon." Squirt visibly balked, paling somewhat at the address as her foot took a half-step back instinctually. The man wilted in response, completely unsure as to what had made the statement inspire such terror in her. Lord Prince Ranin pinched his brows in frustration, muttering, "And naturally, Jezalin already left…

Zhadin, I know you listen in from the shadows, perhaps you could explain better?" Zhadin leaned their torso out of the shadow on the tent wall behind them. Squirt's eyes went wide as a tendril slipped a hold around her wrist, immediately realizing far too much that she had so far successfully avoided realizing. Shadowfell like them had a transformed half not unlike selkie or merfolk did. Not a full transformation like with shifters that transformed into another being, but one with an exchanged lower half.

Theirs was not dissimilar to a kraken, only their tendrils were smooth, suckerless, and far thinner, made up of shadow matter from the plane that was their home. The shadow plane was a one-to-one dimensional relation to the material plane. They were not two halves of a whole, as there were far too many dimensions for that. Rather, they were two realities that shared the same physical space, overlapping in place, where it was possible to cross between them in the shadows of the material plane.

The tendrils of a fell would grow longer, more abundant, and more powerful as they aged. Theirs were long enough to hold her from across a room. They had been in this room, and she hadn't even noticed, with the implication that they had always been watching from their realm in the shadow. She had sensed them before, as shadowfell like them were often used as spies on the powerful, so she had seen a few in passing much like she'd seen the powerful in passing. Zhadin was really fucking powerful.

She was so fucking stupid. Was that a smirk on their lips—"She does not like the 'lady' title being granted as she is not a title holder." Lord Norland blinked a few times. Chief Huntress Lobelia? Furious for reasons Squirt couldn't determine more than her most likely not being hostile specifically. Most likely being the key words there. She glared at Lord Norland before the words left his mouth, and he caught them in his throat.

And then she took a step closer to Pakos, eyeing them both as she chose to pay attention to the danger in front of her rather than the one stalking her every waking moment. Damnit, they totally could have invoked the staff against the Bone Whale— Lord Prince Ranin said, "In any case—I have concerns related to a Skyian airship found in this territory a few days ago. I'm remaining here along with my legion while we continue to investigate the implications."

Squirt eyed him before asking bluntly, "This isn't actually about me studying Gloomwood, is it?" The lord prince's lips twitched.

"No. Indeed it is not." She nodded, somewhat relieved that he didn't think research worked like that. The idea of making a study of an entire ecosystem across an entire territory in what amounted to a few weeks was—"You'll continue east across the lands to survey the feybeasts across as much of the northern lands as you can.

Cirn has a royal seal to demonstrate the approval of your party if needed, but in the meantime, Jul has a seal from the Gloomwood, Norland, and Everwinter, and will receive the others if you need continue further east." Squirt nodded, relaxing somewhat.

"He is more charismatic and better at hiding his aura."

Cirn twitched. She had known that. She had. Absolutely.

Squirt narrowed her eyes at the somewhat obvious expression on the veiled woman's face, reading those exact thoughts. Hedging a guess, she said, "In the villages, it's the opposite of the titled. They'll work with even weaklings like me because I prove myself useful. Powerful fey are feybeast lures with the potential to dominate every fey there into submission. You are nothing more than a ticking timebomb to them." Lord Prince Ranin nodded studiously.

"Hm, I see, I see." Squirt glared at him, but for once, he was completely unaffected. Instead, he crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and reined in his aura until it was only a fraction of the same size as before, and noticeably dimmer. Blinking his eyes open, he glanced at her.

"How's this?" Dazed, she answered, "It's… sufficient, my lord prince." He nodded, furrowing his brows and rubbing his chin in thought. He muttered more to himself than anyone in particular, "… it's good training, too. Already, my hold is starting to slip. I had always been taught that the bigger the better with aura, but Zoln already disproved that multiple times over…" Squirt's shoulders slumped and her expression flattened. They had never even considered it?

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Gods, she hated them. Lord Norland's brow furrowed a little, and his aura dimmed in fits and starts to only about half of what it was. With Ranin being a type of fata and him a goliath, it made sense. Fata tended to be mages where control was needed for different spells.

Control was needed to do physical enhancements of martial combat, but goliaths were so naturally powerful they tended not to need any more than the natural enhancement of their magic flowing through their muscles unimpeded. Which, again, didn't explain the impressive amount of hair. Thoroughly checked out of the conversation, Squirt sighed, letting the titled fey make conversation amongst themselves as they tried to rein in their auras while they discussed the merits of it blinding their magic sense.

Only the chief huntress it seemed had ever really done it. Lord Norland had beads of sweat dripping down his brow as he asked Squirt, "How do you even see like this? I feel blind." Dryly, she answered, "With my eyes, my lord." Zhadin disappeared and reappeared from her own shadow to crouch by her side, their head cocked with a smile. The expression was odd. Teasing, certainly, but just off in that shadowfell way of being a touch creepy for no reason other than the construct of their face. Squirt blinked.

Why did she think a fell was creepy? Their eyes were too large, true. Their pupils and irises a touch too black and large as well, filling more of their eye than most. The way they smiled seemed more like an imitation of a smile than a real one. Or… rather that it was a smile that constantly had a tiny touch of malice in it, sending shivers down her spine. A malice that made her unsure whether she was their prey. Or was that just Zhadin? They were the only shadowfell Squirt had ever had a conversation with.

Abruptly, every interaction they'd ever had hit all at once, and she relaxed. They were creepy because they were different, and that wasn't the right judgement for her to have made. If they had been following her as much as had been insinuated, they had plenty of ammunition to secure her compliance using underhanded tactics. And yet, in that moment, it was abundantly clear to her that they had absolutely no interest. She scowled at them. Damnit, that had been calculated, hadn't it?

The smirk on their face mirrored Qzi's usual for brightness. Damnit. Their aura control had to be insane to have hidden their actual power from her so completely, and she'd absolutely fallen for it. Every time they had ever revealed their presence had been deliberate. Lord Prince Ranin interrupted their silent conversation with, "About your travels, I've asked for your group to drop by Norland Keep before moving on to resupply.

The quartermaster will supply you with whatever you request, and the bill will go to me." Lord Norland cleared his throat.

"It will not. It will go to me." Squirt's eyebrows twitched. Lord Prince Ranin frowned at the taller, bulkier lord, his shoulders straightening a little in regal arrogance.

"I believe the Capital and her majesty would be the best to cover her expenses, do you not?" Lord Norland grunted, crossing his arms.

"She's doing work for my territory. It is only natural a lord provide for his people."

"But she is not of your people—she is of mine."

"She bears no crest on her spine." Squirt's brows twitched harder.

What the fuck was happening where this was the conversation—"I'll have her beholden to no individual territory, Lord Norland—""It is not beholdening her, it is showing our appreciation for the lives saved—"Which is exactly why the crown will cover her expenses for the lives saved across the nation —""Can the crown even afford such expenses—""It can and it will—" Squirt's eyes dulled and she settled in to wait for their dick swinging contest to eventually end.

Then Pakos, traitor that he was, trotted forward and sat in front of Lord Norland, placing a delicate paw on his knee. Lord Norland took it as a signal to kneel, which, to her horror, made Pakos quite smug. Tell the bowing man with luscious hair that we will absolve him for his debts if he allows your party to always restock at Norland Keep so long as we travel through the Wylds here.

Squirt snapped out, "He doesn't have any—" Come now, mother dearest, if we hurry there is a safe and secret place to have your rendezvous we can reach before dusk— To the three perplexed witnesses, they watched the furious little pixie as her cheeks filled with a rich rosy red. The frustration remained in her expression no matter how red she got, which only added to the overall adorable nature of it.

Then, she finally relayed the message in a tight, furious tone that did nothing to hide the underlying embarrassment. All in all, an adorable image, much to her chagrin. Rounding up the rest of their party was more eventful than Squirt had necessarily wanted. It was hardly the first time she had walked in on other fey having sex, but for it to happen twice in a row was maddening. And she hadn't needed to know exactly what Zakam had been packing.

Or that he had a gods damned line — At least he'd only given her a nod, pulled out, and said goodbye to those left. They, however, glared at her. It wasn't her fucking fault— Instead, Squirt eyed him and announced plenty loudly, "We're not leaving for an hour. I'll get your things ready while you… finish up." Neanderthal that he was, he simply nodded, untied his trousers, and began walking back to the now far more enthusiastic group.

Squirt hesitated before finding one that seemed to be organizing the others and walked up to him.

"Will an hour do?" she whispered. He winked back at her.

"We'll make it work." She didn't want to know more. She bowed, murmured, "Forgivable if he's a little late," and scampered away. Anvanil, by contrast, was far more dramatic about the whole thing. Hunter had covered his mouth while taking him in a quiet, dark alley, likely the best privacy they could find in this village. She happened to turn down that alley just as he happened to look over. His clothes undone, legs up, splayed out against the wall in an angle that made clear their gender and body didn't line up.

He turned bright red, yelping and scrambling out of Hunter's hold as he slipped down, covering himself with jerky movements. Hunter quickly put his own equipment away and greeted her, "H-hey huntress, I was uh—""It wasn't what it looked like—" Squirt gave Anvanil an odd look. There was a deep shame in his eyes followed by a deep hurt in Hunter's, and she wasn't entirely certain of the cause. Rather than addressing it, she eyed them both before saying clearly, "We're leaving in an hour.

I'll pack up your things as you say your goodbyes." She turned to leave when Anvanil practically shouted, "Wait!" She obeyed, turning slowly to the panicked fey who swallowed and said, "You… won't tell anyone about this, will you?" In that moment, she pitied him. Because based on the broken-hearted expression on the orc hunter's face, that cut deep, and she doubted he'd be able to repair it in the next hour. A bare whiff of that pity entered her tone as she said, "I didn't see anything, my lord.

I delivered the message, and you acknowledged. Nothing more." She turned on her heel and left, wondering if she'd done something to offend the Goddess of Sex for her to play such cruel pranks on her. Zakam, true to his nature, merely nodded at her when he arrived with his horse in tow. Anvanil wouldn't even look at her. And while it was clear they were being civil, Jul and Cirn were also clearly at odds.

To her utter horror, the village gathered to see them all off, loading up Zakam, as the friendliest faced of their crew at the current moment, with gifts of food and supplies that only further infuriated Squirt. These people were going to be on the verge of starving this winter, and yet they were wasting food on them— She tried not to think about how eager some of the villagers were to have Zakam in particular return. When the fuck did he gain sudden popularity—"For you, huntress!"

She balked as a young fey, probably a teenager by the looks of him, handed her a bouquet of flowers clearly done with enthusiasm, if not skill. Come now, mother, accept the nice gift of flowers for the deer to eat later. With a scowl, she snatched the flowers, her shoulders hunched as she tried to disappear into her saddle. It didn't work, naturally, any more than the scowl worked to hide the blush of indignation from her cheeks.

Ten minutes later, they finally extracted themselves enough to exit out the walls, Pakos leading the way with his two tails held high. As soon as they were within the treeline, Squirt practically bolted into the deeper Wylds for some gods damned privacy where no one could comment on how she carefully put the flowers in a pouch. For Mole. Obviously.