Seasons of Heroes: A D&D-inspired Adventure!

[The Laurent]

1:1

Seen from above, without context, the sight might have interested a viewer. Certainly it might have distressed one. But it wouldn't have terrified them, wouldn't have baffled them, not knowing what they didn't know. There was a young man lying half in and half out of the water, unconscious.

The pristine whiteness of the tub stood in stark contrast to the bloodied water within, seeming to flow around and yet not come from the young man flopped with boneless exhaustion against its edge.

They would certainly look like a young man from above, with short hair, the blonde of the purest, most lovely gold. The hair just barely tickled against the curved plains of his neck, which gave way in time to the strong muscles of his back, the rolling hills that showed strength untouched by the lash of a whip or the hash ravages of time.

Here was a youth, head turned slightly on its side to reveal boyishly handsome features. His arms were sculpted, wires and chords of seemingly indomitable strength, trailing over the edges of the bath like great formations of stone.

The vast clouds of blood and gore floating behind him almost obscured what there was where his waist ended. What there was, and what there wasn't.

There even an observer without context might gasp, might be distressed and suddenly afraid. But not for the reasons they should be, no.

*****

Lotte awoke slowly in stages, far slower than she was used to, farm girl that she was. She'd awaken ton an odd ache in her body, the soreness after a hard day's work. It'd even taken a few moments for her to remember that she wasn't back home, and was in fact uncomfortable on something hard. Had she passed out on the floor?

She tried to sat up and flailed a little, slightly off balance. She recognized the room the moment she saw it. It was the baths she'd passed and not gone in, only now, from the sound of sloshing water, she was taking a bath. Lotte tried to stand, and flopped over, turning as she did. What?
'
She looked down. She didn't look any different… except that she was naked, and that showed what was different. Where before there would have been somewhat small but well-formed breasts, instead she had a flat chest, which poked out only a little, and with musculature rather than anything else.

Lotte… definitely felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, sick and horrified. As a girl would be at that.

(At the least, the dismay was real. How had that happened?)

Then she turned and screamed.

She had a tail.

No, that wasn't it. Below about the waist, she was a tail. A snake tail, thick at the base, and tapering to an end that still wasn't all that thin.

She only really stopped when she'd ran out of breath, and she tried to shift it around as she took a look. Her tail was somewhere between ten and twelve feet long, and moving it wasn't the same as moving legs at all. In fact, she spent the better part of a dozen minutes figuring out how to stand, sort of, pushing her torso up as she began to get out of the bath.

She could feel every movement, could feel her tail against the stone, though in a different way from how she'd been able to feel stone against her leg. It was bizarre how easy it was, and how hard, to think of it as hers. She had no instincts, but it moved when she wanted it to move, if not always how she wanted to move. It was brown and green, in mottled combinations that seemed perfect to blend in to a forest, though there were ridges of purple, here and there.

She was dripping as she got out of the water, and she looked around. If someone had left her here, perhaps the strange and terrible God, perhaps they had left towels? And, indeed, there were some towels down on the ground. She struggled for a while to try to lower her body without just slamming into the ground, and eventually she figured out how to do it. She suspected, from the way that half-ghostly lamia had moved, that it was a matter of getting used to it.

She was like a stumbling baby fawn, the sort that only a monster killed, no matter how tender their meat was said to be, unless starvation and desperation took you. She wobbled one way and the next, but eventually was able to begin drying herself off. She moved slowly, feeling as if the faster she rushed the sooner she'd be forced into some new madness. Her scales felt odd beneath her fingers as she tried to dry off. There was a lot more to dry off, because her tail wasn't small on top of being long, but she worked at it.

She knew she should be freaking out, but she tried to focus on the physical tasks involved in preparing. Once that was done, she glanced around for clothing. She hadn't really explored what her body was truly like, but she wasn't interested, not now.

All of these tasks, they reminded her of what she'd done those first few years when she had her monthlies, the way she'd drown herself in mundane activities, ones she didn't have to think for.

She didn't have to think to look for her clothes, either, though she found none of them, nor her bow. She was glad the bow wasn't around, considering the wetness of the area. It was so easy to ruin a good bowstring. Finally, she felt dry enough, and so she began to move towards the door.

She was going to get better at this, at least until she could find a way to ask the God to turn her back. She could see how, if she got the hang of it, she'd probably be able to go a lot faster than expected, and with a lot more maneuverability than it felt like now, where she felt like turning was a slow, clumsy process.

Before she reached the entryway, the head of a black snake popped around the corner, as if it were popping in while leaning against the wall.

'You are up. At last, my son. We have much to talk about, and I have much to explain. Please go to the circle so that we may talk. There are clothes waiting there.'
Lotte hesitated, but followed. When she turned the corner, she saw that the snake was improbably long, stretching back to and no doubt connected to the ritual site. Despite the awkwardness and her fears, Lotte kept on moving, and clearing the steps down wasn't difficult either. She was already getting used to it… well, no, that wasn't true. She was in shock, and she knew her body and she could learn a new body if need be. In the center were a small cluster of snakes, far less impressive than the ones that had surrounded her before.

'Thank you for coming, son. It has been eighteen years since I sent you away, in Her care, directing her to find a family pious in my ways.'

Lotte blinked, staring at the snakes. Pious in… its ways? Lotte had never heard anything about the Forgotten God until it had been mentioned by the spirit of a martyr.

Lotte wracked her brain, but couldn't quite remember the specifics, except that the Forgotten God was apparently bad.

"Erm," Lotte said. "Why did you do this to me?"

'Do this? You were always thus, but hidden. I could not keep you where I reside, for it is dark and hidden. But nor could you become as this immediately, for you are no regular lamia, you are not of my people, but of divine blood, that will--'

"What do you want from me?!" Lotte demanded. "You call me son and you lie to me and you trap me here, and you turn me into this!"

'I did not turn you into this. This is who you are. And though I cannot read your mind, surely you must be jesting. It is wise and even pious of you to come here under a false name, pretending to be what humans call 'a girl' but--'

"Pretending?" Lotte burst out, furious and terrified, as if this Forgotten God was going to tell someone else the lie and they'd believe it and then they'd judge her or ask why she wasn't being a good enough woman to apparently seem like one to a God.

'It is no matter. I--'

"Explain! I don't understand any of this," Lotte said, tearing up as she glared at the snakes.

'I am trying to explain, if you will be patient and listen.'

"Listen? Why should I--"

'Because I can give you power! And I can give you a way out of here! You really are like a dog on a bone, are you not. I am a Forgotten God, exiled and cast aside, and I wish to be reborn in this world, so that I can protect my people, and all Beastfolk. I am a liar, but there is no point lying to you, because you will see through any lie I tell, in time. What is the lot of the Beastfolk in this world? Is it kindly?'

"No," Lotte said, realizing suddenly just what being a lamia meant for her. Even more than other Beastfolk, excepting the spiders, people whispered things about lamia and their hateful nature.

'It is because their fear of me drove the Gods to ignore evil, out of the hopes of harming me. It was successful. There's no need for destroying all the other Gods, if I can simply activate enough shrines and gain the strength to claw myself up and take my rightful place.'

"And you want me to help?" Lotte asked.

'It helps you as well, for it strengthens your divine essence, but also your mortal essence. It is why I could not keep you, and why you thought you were human. What is divine in you would have torn itself apart without a human shell, and what is human in you would have rotted away in the darkness, leaving only divinity. It would have made you nothing more than a shadow-puppet, an avatar, powerful but ultimately useless. So, She took you away, as She took away six before you, in exchange for her blessing upon you as upon them.'

"Who?" Lotte asked, baffled.

'It is you to answer your own questions, ultimately. I cannot.'

Lotte bit her lip, but didn't respond to that, instead asking. "What are your tenents? What am I to do?"

'You being here has activated it, but in the future you will need to act. But we can talk now, in your dreams, but only if you agree. If you do not, I am barred. You can if you want, find some cottage and never answer my call again. But if you wish to seek the truth, to seek your destiny, to change the world and find a place in it, I can guide you to it. Seventh of a seventh, unique.'

This whole time, Lotte had been talking and listening, the world having fallen away, all the sensations of the air blowing across her new snake-skin, the strange feeling of being not quite right and not quite wrong, and only in that pause did she realize just how odd she felt. It was hard to define, how did a drowning man describe air? Something was right that hadn't been right, and tears prickled at her eyes when she thought of it, unable to hold onto the anger. Perhaps she was not made for anger, perhaps anger was like a bow, and could not be held back for too long before she had to either loose it or give up the shot.

She was afraid and she was enchanted and she was confused, before this bizarre snake God.

"Seventh of a seventh?"

'The sixth came from far off lands, but gave up the quest, planted a tree and prayed to me one last time as he was taught, and then I never saw him again.'

Lotte remembered the tree, remembered Aisling's avid interest, and yet all she hadn't said.

"We call them Memento Trees."

What memories were there to forget? Lotte's mouth was dry, and her head was buzzing with questions. "Oh. And… my clothes?"

'They were beyond any care. But there are more, clothes from past days, preserved. Waiting for you. Waiting for the hero, the adventurer, who will change everything. Remake everything. I ask you to consider my words.'

Lotte nodded, slowly and hesitantly biting her lip so hard she was terrified it'd start bleeding. The lights in the room, which seemed to come from nowhere, flickered as the God stared at her. "I'll think about it. I need to get dressed first."

'Then follow… I believe I can break one out, here and now, empowered as I am by your presence.' One small, unnaturally yellow snake broke off from the mass and hissed for a moment before moving towards the back of the room and another doorway. Lotte slithered after it. The area they were going to smelled like all of those old books Lotte always hated reading, and as she moved the stone lightened and this white stone spread, overwhelming the black. So even though it wasn't that bright, Lotte could see everything as they came upon a gnarled old door that looked like it'd been made out of branches clumsily stuck together. Lotte opened it and entered, nothing to himself that it'd now take him a while to be entirely in any room he went into.

Inside, Lotte saw what had to be a bed. It wasn't quite what he expected, being low to the ground, and huge, with faded blue sheets that looked impossibly soft, and downy white pillows everywhere.

A lamia's bed, Lotte realized. Of course they'd need more space, at least unless they curled up on themselves. Which they probably would do when there wasn't a bed, just like a human would. Next to that was a dark, heavy desk, and next to that a cabinet. Lotte slithered over and opened it, and blinked. There were piles and piles of clothes, all of them men's clothes, in no particular order or size. She'd have to get a tailor to fit them to her, but perhaps she could find something fitted to someone close to her size. Much of it was too small, and there were a few pieces clearly fit for an Orime, but there were a few that worked.

None of them were, in some ways, for someone like her. They were for men, and they were well-made, and soft, even those clearly meant for hard usage. But eventually she found a grey-brown shirt about her. It fit well enough, especially without her… breasts in the way. Then she found a set of leathers that would make a sort of protective tunic, except it had an opening in the middle. It was bizarre, but she liked it, and slipping it on made her feel protected. There were even a very few archery gloves of sorts, even thinner than the ones she was used to, minorly enchanted to protect the hand. She slipped those on, and then dug around for a belt and what looked like a sort of… tan cloth wrap of sorts. Looking closer down at her body, she could see that there was some sort of opening, near and around where flesh became scales, and so she had to cover up just a little bit. It wrapped around her, without looking too bad, and the dark leather sash would hold it all in place.

'Do you wish for a mirror?'

'I… yes.'

Then there it was, suddenly before her, shimmering and clear.

*******

Even without a bow and arrow, Lotte looked impressive, imposing, like some well-born young noblewom--no, nobleman, it was no use lying to herself. Her features weren't any different, but that just meant it'd be a handsome, somewhat pretty boy rather than anything else. The only thing different about her face was that her eyes were now both blue and slightly yellow-ish, and her tongue was longer and forked. When she stuck it out, she could smell the mustiness of the room even stronger than before.

The rest of her body, above the waist, was similarly unchanged beyond the lack of breasts. The shirt and the strange vest were welcome and appreciated, and the gloves were gorgeous.

It was strange, to look in the mirror and be so happy; it was strange to look in the mirror and feel so sad.

Something was better about how Lotte looked, and something was wrong about it, and she couldn't figure out why any of it was like this!

She made faces, trying to keep a light heart, but she just couldn't help but picture it. Were her parents lying to her?

Were they monsters, secretly doing the bidding of a strange God who she remembered had been behind the assassination of a martyr… or so the martyr claimed. Unless it was a different Forgotten God, said with solemnity and fear.

Were there thousands of Forgotten Gods, with far too many names for a dullard like Lotte to understand?

But even that moment of self-loathing felt more distant. She wanted to laugh and laugh until she started crying, but instead she turned to the snake, the God.

"How do I get out of here?"

'There are two ways. One back through your former friends, one avoiding them. It is your choice.'

It meant it, too. Lotte felt as if this had to be the truth, as if the God at least knew that it couldn't do anything yet. Right?

'There are of course all of your other supplies. Also, you vomited in your sleep. So you will be hungry soon. You eat anything you would before. But you can devour raw food now without your stomach doing that strange thing human stomachs do.'

Well.

Lotte took a deep breath, and tried to think. What did she want? Her whole world had been turned upside, and she didn't know whether anyone would accept her. Not her parents, not Aisling and Naja, not… well, perhaps yes Lisbeth if they met again, but who else? Everyone knew about lamias even when they didn't know about Lotte's semi-divine nature. She wasn't going to reveal that, but what if they found out?

What does Lotte do? At least, the first thing that comes to mind.

[] S/he knows nothing about being a lamia. Perhaps it is best to find some of her (?) people, that is to say other lamia, and try to ask them. There are hidden villages, or so people say, away from 'good' people. Perhaps… perhaps she can find somewhere new to be, at least for a time until she works out how to even move half as well as she did before.
[] Lotte believes in Naja and Aisling, right? Surely if she went to talk to them, she could work things out and they could figure this out together. Lotte would have to lie, and talk about… maybe some sort of curse, rather than some divine destiny. Maybe it wouldn't even be a lie? But if she doesn't do this, she'd be leaving them behind, to worry about Lotte, to think Lotte was, quite probably, dead. But… if they are hostile, then she'd be losing them too.
[] Lotte needs to talk to her parents. Were they in on it? The Forgotten God stated it, yet Lotte had heard nothing about him. She had seemed so confident that Lotte had been taught, and it was stunned when she didn't. What were They hiding from Lotte, and for that matter were her parents ever… were they… she should just go around the back and make it back home. Even if it risks being seen, even if it risks learning her parents never loved her, or were just using her for their hidden secret religion or… or something.
[] Write-in, subject to veto.

******

A/N: I'm aware that this is a heavy and exposition-heavy update, but it's an important one.

 

[The Laurent]

1:2

There were worse crimes than distrusting a friend, Lotte knew, but Aisling and Naja had been there for her. The idea of turning her back on them… wouldn't that prove that she was a different person? She'd almost died saving them, time and again, and running away now would be saying that Lotte was no longer Lotte, just because of the tail.

She couldn't pace anymore, not really, but she moved back and forth across the room, trying to get used to how odd it felt to move. She wasn't any slower than before, though, at least not at walking speeds. There was more of her, but that was…

(No. It wasn't okay. It really wasn't okay. She was starting to think of how everything might end. Lotte had never seen a lamia before, but she'd heard all the stories, knew that they were liars and cheats, murderers and thieves. Or rather she had known. Now she wasn't sure at all. What if most of them were like that? But, people said that ratfolk were terrible but not as bad as lamia. Yet having met Lisbeth, Lotte could not imagine 'terrible' being used about her at all. So, here she was. What if lamia were like anyone else?)

That was something she'd have to live with.

The thought of going up to her parents and asking whether they were secretly plotting this the whole time was about the feeling the ground must get before it was all dugged up and planted-in. Something would grow out of it eventually, but you didn't know what. But was she the soil, or the seeds, planted and growing strange and wild and wrong? What if they hated her? What if they attacked her?

What if Aisling attacked her?

What was she supposed to do? Naja wasn't a threat, at least not physically, but she was a noble. If she hurried back home declaring Lotte was a monster, what would happen? She thought about how the descendents of the assassin who'd killed a holy martyr had been hunted down. All but one. Was there only one Forgotten God, or many?

If lamia had a God, why not ratfolk, or werewolves, or any of the other strange non-human beings that Lotte was supposed to be a part of now. Lotte didn't like thinking too much, worrying too much about things she couldn't change. She couldn't change the way people saw lamia, didn't know how she'd even try if she could.

Outside, there was no longer the endless loop. No, Lotte slithered down the road, and moved closer and closer to a free-standing door. The sun was high in the sky, but Lotte didn't know what it meant, that it was no longer night, no longer twilight. The grass was thicker than it had been before, and she felt as if perhaps it meant that time had returned to this place. She'd changed it just by being there, hadn't she? She was chosen for some great destiny that she didn't understand.

She reached out and touched the door, and could somehow hear beyond it.

"She's not coming back!" Aisling said. "I'm hurt and couldn't fight off anyone at all. We need to go. I don't like it but--"

"We don't abandon our friends." Naja's voice was as loud as Aisling's. "Do you think Lotte would turn her back on us and walk away?"

"I--"

"She wouldn't. She's not some fork-tongued noble friend of mine I'm asking you to tolerate." Naja's voice had only grown more strident. "She's true and earthy and as common as the good soil of her home."

"I'm surprised you aren't saying that with a sneer."

"Do you think that makes her any less, that she's not some deep enigma, kindness and cruelty and doubts all wrapped together?"

Lotte should have opened the door, there was even a knob, cool to the touch, the color of silver. Instead she listened.

"No, but I would have thought you would. Though I wonder about her. Why was she able to go where we couldn't? It couldn't have to do with attraction. Or did it have to do with love. Or…"

"It's not our place to question her. She's going to come back, I know she will." Naja's voice was as steady as a newborn calf.

Lotte had no sense of showmanship. There was no life in which she was a wandering player. She knew her strengths, and it didn't involve being smart, or even particularly clever. But she knew that now was the moment to show up, before she caused them even more pain. If only she'd been able to escape from the strange tentacles, she might have never learned about what she was.

Who she was.

She'd be happy with ignorance, she had to be considering how much reading bored her. She'd be happy to live her life unaware of any greater destiny, journeying out to do great deeds and perhaps one day finding something to settle down with. She wanted to make a better world, but she knew that it was the task of each man and woman to do their best with their own hands and then leave the work, like a field passed on through the generations, to the next pair of hands.

It was all anyone could do, hero or lord or peasant or even priest.

But there was no choice anymore. Nothing would ever be normal again.

Lotte threw open the door, and finally saw them again. Aisling was slumped against a wall, paler than ever, her ears aimed at the entrance. Kneeling nearby her was Naja, her handsome face tight with worry as she stood up.

"Lamia! You! Where is Lotte? What have you done to her…"

Naja trailed off as Lotte pulled herself through the door, no doubt struck by her size. "I'm sorry that I was dragged away." Lotte's voice was soft, but it carried. The air stank of blood and death, and the lamia was there still, the dead body that she had granted mercy to. "I'm even more sorry that this happened. What is behind me… isn't somewhere you should go."

"What are you saying?" Naja asked. "Where is Lotte?!"

"It is a Temple to something called the Forgotten God--"

Aisling gasped. "What? Oh. Of course. Oh no." Aisling's voice was shattered, as if a simple crack had grown until a single touch broke it apart.

"He… they, whatever it is, said several of their names and…"

Lotte paused, unsure of what to say. She couldn't tell the truth, and so she just said the first lie she could think of. "Cursed me into the form of a lamia!"

"Cursed you… then where is Lotte?" Naja asked, reaching for her sword.

"This… don't you get it?" Aisling gulped, staring at Lotte with some dread recognition. "That is Lotte… or at least it was! At least it was before she was cursed and controlled by the Forgotten God!" By the end Aisling's voice was almost a hoarse, panicked scream. Aisling tried to stand up, but all it did was end in her groaning and collapsing again, one of her smaller wounds reopening as she does.

"I'm not controlled," Lotte said, though she couldn't be sure. She felt like herself, but what if there was some secret command in her head that had made her get here. "I think? What would it feel like to be controlled?"

Aisling stared at her for a long moment, jaw slack. "What would it feel like…?"

"I've never really been controlled. Would it be him, them, I'm not sure quite what they were, telling me what to do?" Lotte frowned. "I didn't think that's what happened, though."

"Didn't think?" Naja asked, incredulously. "Surely you'd know!"

"I'm not really, uh, all that smart." Lotte flushed a little, hoping that she could hide the fact that she was lying to them about just what happened. It was better to be cursed than the daughter of a hated God. But what if they tried to cure the curse?

"And, and," Naja added desperately. "If she's cursed, can't we find a way to break the curse and live happily ever after?"

"She?" Aisling asked, looking at Lotte with some dire suspicion. "I am not--"

Lotte panicked, not sure that she had an answer for any of this. "I… uh." She flushed and shifted forward, keeping her hands carefully out of the way. "I still have my bow, and my last arrow. I almost, uh, shot the God with it."

"Lotte, no." Aisling was staring at her as if she was perhaps the dumbest being alive, which was a fair accusation, now that she thought about it.

"I didn't, though." Lotte took a breath and looked around. "It let me go. I don't… I don't fully understand it. But there was a room, and it had clothes I could steal. I still don't know how to move around like this. It's strange." She shifted a little closer, but then on seeing the tension in Aisling's faces, moved herself a bit to the left, so that she was still as far from Aisling as she was before, just at an angle.

Of course, if Aisling thought about it, she'd remember that Lotte was an archer, and wouldn't get closer to attack anyways.

"Can you explain all that has happened since we last saw you?" Naja asked.

"Yes. But do you have any bread? I'm hungry."

"Bread, and not babies' blood?" Naja asked.

Lotte made a face. "No! I'm pretty sure even, er, lamia born that way don't eat blood."

"You never know, with those sorts. That's what my Dad always says." Naja nods, not seeing the way Lotte recoils without meaning to. Aisling does, and her eyes narrow.

"Well, I'm still hungry." Lotte shook her head. "I was dragged in, and woke up on grass, with a path in front of me. It led to some sort of elaborate Temple, and when I tried to go any other way, I'd find myself looping back around as if I was in some, some circle." Lotte didn't even have words for it. "And I tried to dig up the earth, so I know that it was the same spot because the same little hole was there. Finally I just went into the Temple. There was a large bathhouse off to one side, and an altar in another room. When I got there, the God appeared… a lot of snakes, a lot of lashing tails, and said a lot of things I didn't understand." Lotte took a deep breath. "I woke up in a filled bath looking like this. I tried to go to the altar and get answers, but I didn't, and then I went and stole some clothing. My pack and everything else were just lying close to where I passed out."

All of this was true, though incomplete. Lotte bit her lip and added. "I… thought about trying to find some other way out."

"What? Why?" Naja demanded, advancing on Lotte.

"Because she was scared," Aisling said, dryly. "Considering your father would hate me because I'm not human, and you're repeating his lines like you learned them by rote, is it any wonder she was afraid?"

"I wouldn't--" Naja began.

"Now, I don't trust you Lotte, but it has nothing to do with you being a lamia now, however temporarily. I've never met a lamia, we didn't have you back on the isles. It's your connection to a dark, evil God. Perhaps even the one associated with a cultist noble family whose downfall is what led Naja to noticing you. I think you're a vessel, a tool for something you don't realize." Aisling coughed, her voice raspy and tired. "But even then, you're not acting like you should if you were hiding something like that. But you are hiding something, and I've heard stories." Aisling didn't try to get up, but she looked like she wanted to. "The Fae can turn a lover into an elf to grant her another century or two with the one she loves, there have been stories such as that, or into animals."

"Listen, it's just, a lamia--"

"Well, perhaps you'd be more enthusiastic if Lotte had become an Orime." Aisling snorted. "More muscles for you to oogle. If we're going to help her, we need information."

Lotte wiped at her eyes to clear the tears from them. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. There's something I'm missing, like why you're flat-chested." Aisling's ears were once again sharply pointing at Lotte.

"Hey, you can't just insult a w--whoa." Naja stared at Lotte for a moment. "What happened?"

"I woke up without breasts," Lotte admitted. "Well, without visible ones. I don't know why. Do lamias not have breasts?"

"I'm pretty sure they do?" Naja sounded like she was asking a question. "At least, the illustrations of, er, evil lamia seductresses always had breasts."

"They would, wouldn't they?" Aisling asked, wryly.

Lotte was feeling rather uncomfortable, but she was also aware that these were her friends. "So…"

"We're going to help you, of course!" Naja nodded. "Also, nice outfit. You really do look like a little Lord now. Or, some King's sworn liegewoman. Something grand, I mean, y'know what I mean." She gestured vaguely, as if to say 'except for the tail.'

"I understand," Lotte said, a little nervously. "Does Aisling need any more help?"

"I can get up. Well, eventually. We need to leave here before we all get attacked by that God again." Aisling reached for some more cloth, and began to wind it over her wound, clearly intending to get up. "We also need a healer, to make sure this heals clean."

"We can afford it," Naja said.

"But then, where are we going?"

"My father's castle. He has quite a library, and there are plenty of resources to look up curses, and lamia, and this forgotten God." Naja nodded firmly.

"No, no, your father would murder Lotte over here with his guards if he even smelled anything on you. Plus he'd probably glare at me." Aisling shook her head. "Your not-brother, the one with university ties and who is very experienced and skilled, can help out. We know he's around here somewhere, and if he actually goes 'die, lamia!' it's a lot easier to run away from him and his guard than a Lord's retinue."

"Well, it's Lotte who is going to be in danger if this goes wrong!" Naja laughs awkwardly and smiles at Lotte. "So what do you say? What should we do?"

Lotte had no clue, and no real knowledge of either of the options. But at the same time, when she thought about it, there was a preference.

Which would she rather do?

[] The Siebert Estates: The less personal option, even if it involved hiding somewhere on the grounds of some lords' castle. It would be a homecoming for Aisling, one way or another, and any lordly manor, especially of an ex-ruin-explorer, would have plenty of notes… though of course the fact that Lotte lied about the curse would complicate things.
[] Karle, somewhat-brother of Naja. He is an experienced man, and even more than that has ties to Universities. Surely he knows something, and if he doesn't, he might be able to get access to some libraries that do know something. On the other hand, he and Naja don't get along well, even though he clearly cares about her despite his words. There's also the fact that Lotte lied about the curse, and that will complicate things.


Belated XP Gains From Last Adventure
XP: 3/14
+2 Successful Adventure, by some definitions
+.5 (Easy Hunting Challenge)
+2 (Medium Challenge: The Statue)
+1 (Hunters' Achievements)
+1 (Confronting the Madman)
+.5 (The Puzzle, Half-Credit)
+2 (End Of Book 1)
+1 (Transformation)
=13/14 XP

With the new Transformation comes one new free Physical racial (Lotte is still Central, Human in other respects after all) Trait (Choose 1)!

[] Steady Tail Stance (Level 1, Physical, Lamia, Hunter/Archery Based Class): It's something of a cheap trick, but it's possible to shift one's tail, or even wrap it around something, to make one's aim even steadier and harder to discomfit than if one stood steady as a human.
[] Slithering Speed (Level 2, Physical, Lamia): Learning how to move as a lamia is difficult, but once you figure it out you can move a lot faster than expected, even if your endurance isn't any greater than before.
[] Snake Eyes (Level 1, Physical, Lamia): You can see in the dark pretty well. It isn't perfect, but the night is not nearly so dark and full of dangers as you expected it would be, for whatever reason.
[] Taste Of The Air (Level 2, Physical, Lamia): You have quite an ability, though one still being drawn upon, to 'taste' the air in order to smell things that are more difficult to smell. Being a hunter, you have figured out immediately just how useful this could be to track animals or foes.
[] Iron Stomach (Level 1, Physical, Lamia): You are not quite immune to poison, but you can survive it… and in fact rotten food, a lot better than you could before you became a lamia.

*******

A/N: So, there we go. Trust… maybe not, but help? Yes.

 

[The Laurent]

1:3

Despite all their fears, leaving the prison was easier than expected. Nothing attacked them, now, and while Aisling was unwell, if wrapped up well enough she could walk for short periods. They would not be winning any speed records. But Lotte didn't think there was any rush at all, especially considering the risk that they'd learn she was lying.

Because Lotte was lying to people who cared about her, and this was a terrible feeling, especially when they kept on bringing it up.

"We'll have to avoid the villages," Aisling said once they were out in the good, clean woods air.

"I'm sorry." Lotte flushed. She was still working on how to move, and the other two were giving her a wide berth, perhaps afraid of tripping over her. That was a problem she'd have to work out, sooner or later.

"Don't apologize for not being human." Aisling sniffed. "If you turn out to be secretly infected with some sort of spell of the Forgotten God, you can apologize then. But for being yourself?"

Lotte nodded, trying not to look as ill as she felt. The sun felt good against her skin, though, and so she allowed her thoughts to drift a little as they moved. They'd have to keep off the main roads, and of course she'd have to figure out how to move more carefully. She was still learning how to move at all, but eventually she'd have to figure out how to hide her tracks. There were simple techniques that'd still apply. She was larger, but it was still just a matter of moving on hard ground or stone, right?

Beyond that? She'd have to think.

Meanwhile, she wondered whether the pleasure she felt at sunlight was the result of being a snake, or of having been in a prison for far too long. Lotte smiled and hummed to herself as they moved through the forest, slowly but surely.

"This is so strange," Lotte said, as they passed a tree that she now knew was special. She looked at it. "We're back here already." She stuck her tongue out, trying to get used to tasting the air. There had been… animals here, at least somewhat recently. She could smell their scat, ever so faintly, in a way she couldn't quite do with her nose.

"Is that a smell thing?" Aisling guessed.

"Yes. I thought I'd at least learn how all this works." Lotte didn't know whether that was okay.

"You know, this is all really interesting, even if it makes me sweat a little," Naja admitted. "We should stop for dinner here."

"Interesting?" Lotte asked.

"Well, you look good, dressed how you are. There are pluses and minuses here."

"Pluses and minuses?" Lotte had been reduced to a Liar Bird, parroting the words.

"You look more handsome, but you don't have as much of a posterior now."

Lotte blushed as hard as she ever had. "D-do you… I…"

"If you're asking if I'm still attracted to you, probably yes. The offer still stands."

"No!" Lotte couldn't imagine it, didn't want to look, had closed her eyes when going. All she can tell is that it seems to be about the same as before, but more hidden. "I… but thank you." She wasn't sure she meant it. But she did like being treated like normal, like not that much has changed. Maybe she'll hate that eventually, but right now she needs something to cling to, somewhere to sink her roots into.

"So, are you going to do the hunting?" Aisling asked. "We do have enough food, but we could use some variety."

"I only have one arrow."

"Two. I kept one of the gunky ones that didn't break." Naja pointed that out absent-mindedly as she began to clear out a patch in the dirt.

"Oh. Good. I suppose I could do something." Lotte could probably find some small critter to add a little meat to their meal, if she was lucky and careful. "But, whatever village we visit next, I'll need more arrows." Lotte winced. "I'll have to stay outside the town."

"You know, sooner or later, we're going to have to just admit that you're with us and take whatever hatred comes with it." Aisling had found a tree nearby and was resting against it. She wasn't bleeding, but she was still weak.

"That's only if we can't just solve the problem in the next few weeks," Naja said.

"If it was easy to fix, then surely we'd have heard of an easy solution before." Lotte straightened herself up, 'standing' a little taller as her tail shifted. "What about the stories of the Fae, Aisling?"

"There are stories, but being turned into an ass until the coming of the full moon, or being transformed into a rabbit to be hunted by a Wild Hunt only lasts until you escape. If it were a Fae, you'd know full well, even if it was in a rhyming riddle, what would turn you back." Aisling's voice had a musical tone to it as she continued to speak. "Instead you have been cursed, apparently without a word, into a form that seems to come with at least some familiarity."

"Comes with some familiarity?" Lotte asked.

"You're already… slithering, I suppose it'd be called, as skillfully as we are walking. Well, as Naja is walking. There's a little clumsiness, but I bet if a lamia was given legs they'd still be crawling. Even without any weakness to newfound limbs, it's still very different."

Lotte wondered whether a part of herself somehow knew how to slither. It wasn't a curse, which meant it might simply be something about her soul, or body, or how all of it worked. "You're right." Lotte shook her head. "But I can't really regret it that much. If I didn't know how to move around, this would be a lot harder."

"That's fair enough." Naja looked Lotte over, eyeing her up and down. "Y'know, we never did find a treasure of any kind. Well, unless you count friendship as a treasure."

"I do," Lotte said. She wasn't going to talk about the blessings and the curses that came along with the revelation. Even if it wasn't a curse, it was a sign that she'd never quite fit in again. She'd been cast out of the world.

Lotte tried to ignore the feeling, ignore the simple facts that even an idiot like her could notice. She wasn't going to be standing in an alehouse anytime soon--or ever again, if it came to standing--among her fellow humans, drinking down beers and smiling and laughing and--

If she arrived in that alehouse where she first met Naja, and Karle, she'd terrify everyone there, and probably start a fight.

"You really are something, Lotte." Naja was looking at her with a soft smile. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Yes. I'm surprised you were singled out for a curse, actually." Aisling had that same look that combined suspicion and trust. It was a strange look, eyebrows narrowed, but ears not quite as sharp as they might be.

"They didn't try to grab you as well?" Lotte asked. She knew they hadn't, but she wanted to be sure. Plus, wouldn't she ask that if she was really just a random victim?

"No, but we cannot tell whether this is because you were closest or they only wanted one person." Naja then added, after a moment's thought. "Or they targeted you specifically."

"Why would they?" Lotte asked. Then she added the truth, "I'm just the daughter of farmers from a small village. I'm a hunter who has been on a few adventures. There's not really a reason to grab me, is there?"

"Not that we know. But there are any number of reasons why you could be taken. It could be something about your humours balance, or your hair color, or even the emotions you were feeling at the time." Naja looked Lotte over, considered her with a rather different eye than before. She wasn't looking at her with a leer. No, Naja had a ready mind, one more flexible than Lotte's own.

If she thought about it too much, she'd figure it out.

Lotte shrugged. "I don't know. I should go and hunt, see what I can bring in. Aisling, you should rest."

"You giving me orders?" Aisling smirked at Lotte.

"No, I'm just--"

"Same ol' Lotte." Naja waved. "I'll need time to put together my speech."

"Speech?"

"Don't ask. She has a dramatic speech about Karle she's preparing, and she'll make us all listen again and again and again. So, in the interests of saving yourself one go-through, leave now.

******

Some things hadn't changed. There was a grace, a divine sort of feeling, to lining up a perfect shot. You couldn't shoot with just your arms, you had to shoot with your eyes, your chest, your fingers, your brain, and your legs… or your tail, for that matter. If there was something about you that was not just right, what you would do would be less than ideal.

Lotte had loosed plenty of arrows she was ashamed of, had known they would miss, or known they could have hit more cleanly. There were misses she respected more than hits, and even with the new tail, it worked.

Her stance was perfect, and the arrow slid through the deer's eye as carefully as someone slipping between two men with a whispered apology. The deer reeled, and collapsed. Lotte slithered over towards it, her heart singing holy hymns. The Forgotten God could steal everything from her, but it couldn't touch this moment. She was a liar, a fool, and now an outcast, but she was still a hunter.

This meant life just as much as it meant death. She went over to the body, knife in hand, to carve out what she wanted and leave the rest for any animals who wished it. She removed the guts first, took care to remove what hair she could early on as she unrolled her game bag, recently washed, and began to section out the deer.

She needed only so much, and when she was done she had to pray. She prayed to Wilfhuld out of habit, and the Waldherz for having been allowed to be a part of the forest, and Geweian, the antler'd God of competition and struggle for having taken one of his does. Lotte wondered at this, the way so many Gods were animal-like, and yet beastfolk were so hated. She knew the excuses, that their very existence was hubris, that they didn't worship the same Gods, and all sorts of words she could no longer credit.

But she had nothing new to replace it with, especially since the Forgotten God themselves might be evil. Certainly, they could be cruel, and Lotte couldn't imagine praying to Imnash right now. Still, she said in her quietest whisper, "Imnash, I know you're listening. We can't talk now, but in a few days, in a week or two, we need to discuss what all of this is. Y-you're a God. Y… you'll keep."

Lotte couldn't imagine saying that to any other God, eternal and immortal as they were. Wait--was that why the Nachtmater was sorry? Had she somehow helped the Forgotten God? She hadn't thought about the words as deeply as she should, but if that's what they meant, then she had another God to talk to.

She hoped she would keep as well, long enough to understand what had happened.

******

"So, knowing Karle, he's going to try Baddings." Naja said.

"Ah, right," Lotte said, nodding as she worked on the food. She'd never been the greatest cook in the village, but her Mom had taught her enough to get by, and she certainly knew how meat was to be treated. She had put all of it in an iron pot they had, and she'd boiled it. That and the bread they still had would be enough. Whatever meat was left would probably just be thrown away, since there didn't seem to be much enthusiasm for such lengths.

Luckily she'd figured rightly enough as to how much meat everyone would want.

"You don't know what Baddings is, at all?" Aisling was looking around at the fire, looking at the wind to calculate the breeze, and otherwise getting underfoot by simply looking at everything.

"...No," Lotte mumbled. She felt her cheeks heating up as she continued to work on the food.

"Huh. I thought everyone had heard of it," Naja said, getting a voice a little like the priest before he started an hour long rambling lecture. "It's a town that discovered a very powerful Sepult ruin a century ago. It's long since been ransacked, there's no wealth to be found there, but it was a powerful ritual site, and a place of… sacrifice, among other things. There's rumors of ghosts, cults that haunt the place… all sorts of nonsense, considering it has become an attraction for pilgrims and rich, bored, nobles--"

"Such as yourself," Aisling chimed in.

"Yes, such as--wait!" Naja blinked, and turned to glare at Aisling.

"I met Karle, he doesn't seem like either." Lotte looked from one of them to the other. "What am I missing?"

"There haven't been many university-trained scholars with his sort of experience checking it out, with a set of incredibly expensive instruments and no desire more than knowledge." Naja sniffed. "He thinks himself an altruist, finding knowledge and truth for later generations. If he found anything as dull as a pile of gold coins, he'd be in a terrible mood for months."

"He's not always in a terrible mood?" Aisling asked.

Naja frowned. "Maybe? But whenever I'm not around him for a bit I start to get fond. Better meet him again so we can go back to hating each other. Badding is just four or five days away, if we can get a mount. There should be one in the next village over we can borrow."

Their horses had, surprising nobody involved who'd thought about it--so surprising everyone but Aisling--had run away after they'd decided to not turn back at the end of the first day in the ruins. Lotte hoped they were still alive. She hadn't thought about the horses much, not knowing how to ride one with any real skill. Now she'd never learn. It didn't feel like she was missing all that much. It would mean she'd have to deal with being slower than those with a horse. But she had already expected to spend much of her time walking.

She'd just have to learn to build up her endurance even more to keep going for longer. She'd figure it all out.

"I can't, though," Lotte pointed out. "So it might take longer."

"We can afford the time. You walk--walked, pretty fast, Lotte." Naja nodded to herself, as if that was settled. "We will have to be careful about where we ride. Could we take a side-path some of the way?"

"Some of the way, but unless we go off road entirely, you're going to be seen with a lamia and an elf," Aisling pointed out.

"I know. There's a reason I decided against my father." Naja bit her lip and said. "Either way, once we reach the town, it shouldn't be too hard to find Karle. Then we can dump the problem in his lap."

"Sounds like a plan."

******

That night, after first sleep, Lotte went to use the facilities, and heard what sounded like a hiss saying, "Understood."

Well, so at least she wouldn't be bothered with any strange dreams.

******

Aisling was doing better the next day, though also acting very oddly. The wry-as-bread (Lotte was pretty sure they were spelled the same way, anyways) elf was now chipper.

"She gets like this, at the start of anything," Naja muttered, chewing on a little more of the bread they had. "She quickly falls into the bad habit of sarcasm and disillusionment when--"

"I heard you! But I do not care." Aisling grinned and said. "So, at the start of this adventure, let me pray. Fae, this is an ever-changing world we live in, where all that is true fades into lies, and all that is a lie can become true again. Protect the liars, and the true, and defend us if you will it. We shall defend ourselves, and by iron, blood, salt and bone, we shall come to some sort of truth. We seek Karle, and we seek knowledge of a curse. May we find it."

Lotte bowed her head, though she hadn't known anything about Fae before and did not afterwards. So she had no reason to suspect what came next.

"Now, if we're about it, we need a traveling song." Aisling nodded to herself. "And you're singing it too, Lotte. You can sing, can't you? And if not, you can whistle I'm sure."

Lotte looked over to Naja, who just shrugged, but with a glint in her eyes as if today was her nameday.

"Ahhh," Lotte sang out, a single pure note. Her voice was clean and crisp, on tune but untrained, a little higher than she was used to speaking, as if she were trying to escape some cage.

"You don't have to sing higher, you don't have to sing sweeter, you just have to…"

Sing a song of traveling friends
Round these corners and round these bends
Sing it low and sing it sweet,
Sing it fast and high and neat
Sing off key.
Just follow my voice.

The Fae have found a world of plenty
Yet who knows it? Not one in twenty
We rest as eggs in our pitiful shells
We tell each other ambition never sells
But take a step outside your home,
And keep on walking, dare to roam.

An Adventurer knows what to sing
We adventure, and we find,
Truth and lies and our own kind,
Wanderers, liars, heroes, more
Waiting to see what the world has in store

Lotte tried to sing the song, and tried to make it hers. She liked her voice when she let it be a little rough, when she let it be a little tired, because she was tired. She slithered through the forest, and her eyes darted at every bird call, in stretched, uncertain wonder.

It was not that long before she stopped outside of a village, and waited there. Lotte handed over an arrow for the fletcher to use as a model, though no doubt he had adequate arrows enough. The village was small, but well made, and the people must have been happy with the business, because it was not long before Naja and Aisling returned with the arrows and two horses.

The horses, big, brown ones, edged away from her. But eventually they got used to her, and if she moved at a decent enough pace, the horses could trot and she could keep up. All through the first day, and the first night, there was song after song.

Lotte could see that Aisling was slipping away from the optimistic start, could see the way Naja watched her with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, could see darting eyes and suspicions.

Lotte wondered what caused Aisling to be like this, when it was so clear she was loved.

Lotte knew she might not be loved, not if her parents heard; they could have been kind and generous and amazing if Lotte had gone back to them, but this possibility helped less than the pain of them not being so would hurt.

Roads lead to rivers, and rivers to sea
Oceans lead to the ends of the sea
That to the end of the world
So it is told, so fate unfurled
But we can never find that place

Yet onward we go!
Adventure, ho!
To the far horizon,
Bards and druids, thieves and warriors
Singing this song until it grows hoarier
All songs grow old like elves,
Slow and then fast

The races of the world all join in this:
War, death, hate, love, a kiss
And adventure, dear adventure!
Bound together like a promise kept
Adventure, dear adventure!

The sun was beautiful, the moon was shining, and Lotte was tired but not without hope. She couldn't be uncursed because she was not cursed, but she could learn something about Imnash from Karle. She could figure out what was wrong with her, and then hopefully find a way to keep the truth away from Aisling and Naja. She knew--not suspected, but knew--that they would have abandoned her if she had revealed the truth. They'd abandon her now if she told the truth, and that meant that she had to hope that nobody ever learned the truth.

It was a sickening feeling.

It was on the third day of travel that someone finally saw Lotte on the road.

They'd slowed down because Naja, noting Aisling's grim sarcasm and downtrodden arrogance, had insisted on trying to solve it. Lotte had left so that she didn't have to hear the results of that. So they were behind schedule, but it should be fine. "Karle," Naja said, "Is meticulous."

A carriage kicked up dust as they walked, in the distance, big and black and supremely ugly to Lotte's practical eye. The driver's eyes went wide, and the horse skidded to a clumsy start. The driver--a thickset man with greying hair-- knocked on the door of the carriage.

"What is it?" a woman's voice called.

"Highway bandits. One of them's nicely dressed, but one of them's a damn snake." He made no attempt to keep his voice lower.

"Highway bandits?" Naja snifted, looking angrily at them. Then she yelled out, "My good man, I am Naja von Siebert, heir to the Siebert estates, and I am horsed as well! What bandit would have horses? Aren't they called footmen?"

Aisling, on the other hand, just sighed.

She was still sighing when a man came out wielding a crossbow. His black beard was like the tangle of a forest at night, and his clothes were dark, trimmed with gold. "Are you now? Well, I am Humboldt von Konik, Lord of Isse and Baron of Barewore. And I never saw a noble with a snake on the retinue. Is it a prisoner?"

"She is a friend, and I will have you put away that crossbow or you shall taste my steel in a gentlewomanly duel," Naja insisted, riding forward despite the crossbow pointed in his direction. "If a Konik even knows the meaning of such a thing."

"What do you mean by that?" Humboldt said.

"Everyone knows the Konik were in trade two-hundred years ago, and still have family so burdened by such… peculiar monetary ambitions." Naja sniffed, and in that moment was perhaps the most obnoxious person alive. "Now do you believe who I say I am? Or do I have to mention having met your wife, hidden away in there, once at a party."

"That doesn't explain the snake, it--"

"She."

"Are you sure it's a she, perhaps snakes--"

"Humboldt, if that is your name. Speak again and you have two challenges," Aisling said.

"If that is my name?"

"Can you merely sling but not face silly accusations, short-lived fool?" Aisling had swung herself off the horse, and glared at them. "Now move out of our way."

"Fine. It is no problem, but that Naja von Siebert consorts with lamia will be known!"

"Let it be known. No fool would believe your stories," Naja said. "Now, let us pass."

"I shall, then."

Humboldt was perhaps many sorts of cad, but he did not fire on her retreating back, and soon enough they were past.

"You didn't have to do that," Lotte said.

"Do what?"

"Hurt your reputation on my behalf."

"Lotte, I would do far more than that on your behalf," Naja said. "You don't deserve to be treated this way."

Lotte felt sick, thinking of how much she was lying to those so kind to her. She opened her mouth to speak, but in that moment a bird cried out and Aisling's shifty gaze looked up. Her moment of suspicion, as if this was some unusual sound, broke the moment, and Lotte resolved that she should tell them… some day.

And should the road finally end
Should I find some suitable friend
Should I settle like a rock in place
Look at my eyes, look at my face
Am I still alive at all?!

Sing it high and sing it low
Sing it fast, sing it slow
Sing it deep, it is no holy psalm
Sing it angry, sing it calm
We are adventurers! The road is our way
Today is our day!

On the fifth day, they reached the sign. It was an absurd thing, a sign outside of the valley a village rested in. Why would you need a sign? Why wouldn't you just know what the village was called, or go into the village to ask?

But it was stuck in the ground, held up by two poles, and painted white, with the words in blue.

'Badding, Home of Ruines, Misteries, and Sekrets.'

Naja snorted at that. "Really?"

"Secrets is spelt kind of funny," Lotte said. "Though, the Priest told me that there wasn't a set spelling."

"Sure, but… Ruines?" Naja asked.

"Doesn't that about sound how it's said?" Aisling asked. "I don't see the--"

"Come on, you can't really…"

The bickering lasted the rest of the journey.

But where are they going?

[] They could wait outside the town, and have Naja go in and send a message for Karle. This would be the most discreet, but might take some time until he arrives. Then, it's a matter of whether he'll go to meet her or not.
[] They could journey into the ruins to meet him. It would be faster, and in some ways more private… but there would be the risk of assistants or other explorers being around to see Lotte, unlike with having Lotte wait out of the way for Karle to be led to her.
[] Write-in.

******

A/N: And so it goes!

 

[The Laurent]

1:4

Lotte had to wait in the trees nearby while they went down to the town to talk. It was a town, or at least a large enough village that Lotte wished she could visit. But she didn't need to be told how dangerous visiting the village could be. She wasn't secure in her own form, at least not entirely, and she would be expected to defend herself against dark accusations, glares, and perhaps worse?

Lotte had seen none of the cruelty that Naja's haunted, dark stare promised. She never wanted to. But eventually she'd have to either live entirely in the wilderness without others around, or trust people to see who she was. But who was that? If she didn't know that answer, then what was she doing here?

When Lotte thought that she'd have to wait with the trees, it was what she meant. Not the woods, and certainly not the forest. Most of the trees of the valley had long since been stripped out in order to better see the scar upon the earth, and the piles of stones that rested upon it, visible and glowing at night. The building wasn't all that large, but it stood out now as it had not before.

It seemed a mockery to Lotte, but one that she couldn't exactly criticize. After all, they were just doing what they could to survive. It did seem as if they must have trouble getting enough wood to survive without importing it. But it wasn't Lotte's business. People far wiser and smarter than her had no doubt thought through all the consequences long before she was born.

In Lotte's experience, it was a mistake to assume one's elders were fools. Lotte knew plenty of young men and women her age who acted the fool, who drank too much and called their parents village idiot and otherwise behaved terribly. Lotte had left, but she would no more act to dishonor them, then…

But then what was her lying? What was her transformation. It wasn't her choice, but you could dishonor from lack of choice. She was no noble, to hold her honor dearer than anything else. But a person's word was supposed to mean something. A person who didn't keep their word was like a bow too rotted to loose an arrow, a shirt too tattered to keep out the chill.

If a person could not say what they were going to do, and then do it, then where was anyone in this world? Oh, sure, the nobles lied and schemed, but the people who made the world work were supposed to be different.

Nobody could get away with more than the pettiest dishonesties in a village as small as Lotte's. At least, not professional ones. In their personal lives… Lotte thought of the fights spouses could have, and shuddered.

As it was, Lotte couldn't ramble and walk with so little space to walk, so instead she found a clearing in the woods that there was, a ways away from the village-facing side, and lay on a rock. It was enjoyable to soak up the sun, and she wanted to think. She indeed did, thinking circles around her like a dog that had caught the wrong scent.

Shouldn't she be pursuing the truth? Instead, here she was, lying to those she cared for, in order to get answers she hadn't needed. What would she learn that was new from all of this? The curse didn't exist. She'd learned more in the last hour, such as that the sun could make her sleepy in a pleasant way, and that her body was all but made for reclining now. The lower half, at least, could coil in itself to take up only a little more space than she would have sitting as a human. It wasn't uncomfortable at all, and it was remarkable how much her body, if not her mind, took these changes in stride. Of course it would, if this was the true her.

All the same, she still allowed herself to relax. She even learned, after getting bored enough, that she could sleep on her own coils. They were not soft, because even her snake half was strongly muscled, thankfully enough. But there was a give to them, and it was a little like how sometimes heroes would sleep on the lap of their beloved.

Now, Lotte was no fool, and had managed to guess that there was, on top of anything intimate and romantic, perhaps some…

Well, perhaps she was supposed to assume that 'sleeping on the lap' implied sex. But it was just such a romantic picture all on its own, wasn't it? The closeness, the care, the trust. There was none of that here, but it was still impressive. That at least inspired Lotte to wonder whether there were any magical powers that came with the form. Lotte wasn't all that interested, but she did spend a few minutes straining her eyes to try to make something happy, biting at her hand as if it would turn into a giant pair of venomous fangs, and otherwise messing around. She felt something that might be eyestrain, and at the end a fluttering in her stomach, but nothing more than that.

Eventually Lotte gave up, and decided that she should practice her archery. She'd been hunting a little to help feed them over the journey there, but she hadn't done the sort of focused practice that you were supposed to do if you wanted to get better. She'd made her way to a likely spot in the pitiful clump of trees when she heard rustling. She slithered back, and then relaxed when she saw Naja and Aisling.

"Well, they've been bribed to tell Karle that Naja von Siebert desperately needs to talk to him, and will be waiting in the forest for his arrival, and that it is a matter of life and death," Naja said.

"This isn't a forest," Lotte said, with all the stubbornness of someone who had actually ever gone into a forest of her own volition, and thus knew what a forest actually was. Lotte was rather determined to press this very essential fact.

"Well, whatever it is. I'm sure Karle would call it a forest."

"Or would he point out that in a book there was a size definition of forest, and this did not count," Aisling pointed out, fetching up a devious smile.

"Forests aren't about that either," Lotte said. "Not… entirely."

"Then what?" Naja asked.

"The Waldherz. His presence makes a place a forest or not." Lotte frowned. This wasn't obscure theology that she'd read in a dusty book, but the common knowledge that anyone should have.

"That is very pious of you," Aisling pointed out. "But then what about all of the wooded areas of my homeland. There is not, as far as I can tell, the Waldherz in any of those."

"Perhaps some Fae serve that purpose?" Naja asked, with a playful look on her face.

"Fae are not Gods," Aisling said, as if she'd said this a thousand times before. "However, this is all besides the point."

Lotte, who thought it was in fact the exact point, resolved to whittle some tokens to thank the Waldherz and other Gods for all they'd done for the world. Lotte could not know whether any of the Gods would even accept her efforts anymore. If she really was a demi-God of some manner, and to a God opposed to at least some of their principles, then were her prayers really meaningful?

Well, even if they weren't, she was going to pray. If you prayed only to get results, only to obtain things from a God, what sort of worshipper were you? She only hoped the Gods would hear and then ignore her prayers, rather than seeing her as something worthy of opposition or attack.

Still, she would keep faith. It was not their fault she had been as she was. If she had not visited a temple, how long might she have not known what she was?

"Are you okay, Lotte? You look rather distant," Naja said.

"Just enjoying the sun," Lotte said, and laughed to make the lie more convincing.

They all stared at her. "Well?" Aisling asked.

"What if it is, uh. What if it can't be undone?" Lotte asked.

"Then you live your life." Aisling shook her head. "There isn't really any other option. You're still an adventurer, aren't you?"

"Yes," Lotte said slowly, without enthusiasm. How could she help people when she couldn't help herself?

"You want to help people, you want to make money, you're still a good archer, and you're still attractive and wholesome looking, I mean, at least your face is." Naja said it all in good cheer, though she flushed a little at the end, wiping her brows. "I mean, I have offered plenty of times if you wanted to join in. Do you think that's because being temporarily transformed into a lamia made me pity you?"

"I, er." Lotte coughed. "I'm not sure if I want to have… sex with anyone I don't love."

"Oh. You're the marrying type?" Aisling asked, frowning thoughtfully.

"I guess?" Where she came from, basically everyone got married if they lived long enough and could afford it. Even the drunken layabouts usually managed it, though pity their husbands or wives. "I also, I dunno, feel a little uncomfortable with the idea of it."

Now Naja was frowning, all of the serious, important talk forgotten to gossip about Lotte's love life. "If we were making you uncomfortable we--"

"Do not apologize, but perhaps we might have been softer. I could have put a gag in Naja's mouth." Aisling interrupted smoothly, glaring at Naja.

Lotte couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound forcing itself out of a throat which had had very little to laugh about these past few days. "No, no, it's not that. I've even kissed someone before. Two someone's." Though only one was worth remembering, only one brought a feeling of warmth to her stomach now, after all that had happened.

"So?" Aisling asked. "What's…"

"I'm in a new body, of course I'm uncomfortable."

"That makes sense." Naja nodded, having apparently realized that Lotte almost felt hunted by some of the words, especially since what if she revealed she'd be stuck like this, and already knew it. "All of it?"

"What?" Lotte asked.

"Do you hate all the changes? Including." She gestured towards her own modest, attractive bustline.

Lotte stammered, "Of course!"

"Naja, could you go gather wood for our fire?" Aisling asked.

"What would I know about--oh. Of course." Naja bit her lip, eyes darting over to Lotte. "Are you sure--"

"I am sure."

Naja left, no doubt to find the wrong kinds of sticks. But Lotte had a feeling she wasn't getting away."

*****

"Do you really not want to tell me the truth? If you just calmly say it and mean it, I'll stop asking. But I'm trying to figure all of this out," Aisling said, with a nod.

"I… well, they did get in the way a little. It's just practical. I'm sure any woman who was an archer would agree."

"Or a warrior?" Aisling asked, her tone light and understanding.

"Yes, see."

"Except… no. I've met women who wished they had smaller than a solid handful, and certainly you were not, er, poorly endowed. But I doubt any of them would want to lose it all."

Lotte blinked at her. It didn't make any sense. Why not? Sure, she understood if one was someone… well, she could at least understand how giving a babe suck might be difficult. But if one was an adventurer--

Then again, she wanted to get married, right? But the idea of suckling a babe didn't seem pleasant. Surely she wasn't like the nobles who had a wetnurse? Though, perhaps…

"You're worrying, now." Aisling frowned, looking Lotte over. "So, you don't miss having breasts?"

Lotte hesitated and then shook her head. "I'm fine without." This was a lie: she felt more than fine. At the thought of getting breasts back, something inside her whined like a dying animal. "I don't, I mean. It's not that unusual. You said some would prefer smaller, I just prefer a little smaller than others."

She still had breasts, after all! Well, sort of.

Aisling looked at her dryly. "Is there anything else? Do you like looking like a lamia?"

"No," Lotte said. Lotte looked her in the eye and said it simply and honestly.

"Okay, I believe that. But there were two reasons why I was asking, Lotte. Well, three. First, I was just curious and if curiosity does kill the cat like they say--"

Lotte had never heard that saying.

"Well, at the moment death wouldn't be so bad, really." Aisling shrugged as if she had not said something incredibly distressing with a wry smile on her face. "Second, I have a suspicion I'll not voice until I'm sure. Third, I think this may be part of the curse."

"What?"

"If there are parts of your appearance now you like better, and you had to get rid of them to go back to being human, would you?"

Lotte stared at Aisling as the wind whistled through the trees above. And what if… what if continuing to serve Imnash led to more transformations? What if she was enough of a freak, not normal enough, that she liked some of those as well? How had Imnash known she would have liked a smaller bust? It made her wonder. "I think so, but I'd rather not. Can a curse be reversed in part?"

"I dunno. That's why we're getting Karle to help us. Just think about it."

Lotte did, even after Naja stumbled back with dew-damp sticks of green wood.

She thought the next day, as she began to carve some totems as she waited. First, she carved a Waldherz to dedicate, and then what were known as prayer-sticks. It was difficult to carve the likeness of some Gods without being far better than Lotte was. But the Gods would accept sticks with their symbols on them for the purpose of praying. Lotte used tree branches to carve the full and crescent moons, as well as the wings, for the Nachtmater, and a far smaller one for Mite, the God of desperate causes.

(He aided the poor and the meek, and spread himself so thin that his help was always small, but the fact that he helped anyone was infamous. It was said of someone terrible that "Even Mite would not aid them." Lotte hoped that Mite would aid her.)

There were a few others, carefully made over a day of waiting, and then that night before her second sleep she prayed to the Nachtmater. The next morning she was praying to Mite when Karle and his guard finally arrived.

They made noise enough that Lotte heard them coming a long way off. Aisling's ears swiveled to hear them, and Naja slowly got the picture and stood up, smoothing down her trousers and looking around as if hoping for a mirror or some present for her guest.

"So, Naja, what is this about? There's no way you'd contact me unless your request was… Lotte?"

Lotte was rather stunned that he'd recognized her, considering she was coiled up against a rock.

"Is that you? You seem to have changed rather drastically since we last met. However, the hair seems familiar, and so does the bow."

"Yup. That's Lotte. He got hit by a--"

"She," Naja corrected, helpfully.

Lotte blushed, but didn't say anything about the exchange. She still didn't understand what Aisling was arguing.

"So, she was transformed by a curse?" Karle asked. He was covered in dust and looked as if he'd slept in a tomb, but his eyes were bright. His guard, still in her chainmail, gave a friendly wave to everyone, though her eyes were hard. "And you want my help?"

"I know that you don't want to help," Naja began grandly. "But I am calling in the favor I have--"

"Oh, of course I will help. This is fascinating, truly it is, and I feel for Lotte. Certainly you will find no errant bigotries in a university trained man, unlike others." He glanced over at Naja, who hadn't seemed to realize he said yes.

"I know you deny any familial sentiment, but surely you cannot deny a favor, not when--"

"As well, there is something to be said for understanding more of this curse. Especially since it must be of great import. To have been cursed by the one whose agent you exposed mere weeks before? It is the start of something that I wish to understand."

"Oh. That's a yes?"

"Yes it is, you fool." Karle shook his head. "We'll be going to a hidden library I know. There is a group I am part of that maintains them, and this particular one is not that far from here."

"Oh! I know what you're talking about. But really?" Naja made a face.

"It is not as if the nuns and monks of the Nachtmater mind a secret hidden library beneath them," Aisling muttered.

"You told her?"

"It's pillow talk, sir," the guard said. "If it were wise, it would not be spoken of so. It does no harm."

"Does it?" he asked.

"Everyone on the road's heard of the Secret Libraries of the Corner Club."

...actually, it did sound familiar. Vaguely. She'd heard a story of it, once. A club of nobles and non-nobles dedicated to knowledge, who swore to honor all Gods therein. She hadn't heard anything about the secret libraries, but in truth she'd been more interested in the idea of them adventuring to recover lost knowledge. Libraries, as far as Lotte could tell, were entirely useless to a dullard like her.

...except now they weren't.

"Yes. You'll each have to have some piece of knowledge, or wisdom, to share in order to enter," Karle said. "At least, if you haven't shared anything this year. You all agree to go, right?"

"O-oh. I thought this would be harder," Naja admitted.

"Are you kidding me? This will be a most excellent adventure, especially compared to the disappointments of my own trip."

"You know what. Tell me about them," Naja said, and for a moment it was almost like they were family.

Then they started arguing about translations.

During the Trek, What Does Lotte do? (Choose 1)

[] Karle's instant, if brusque and wordy, acceptance of Lotte was… bizarre and baffling. Perhaps Karle knew something about lamias or lamia culture?
[] His guard seems a friendly enough sort, and the type who wouldn't press Lotte too much, if asked not to.
[] What did Aisling mean about the… everything.
[] Sometimes isolation can be a good thing. Perhaps she could train her archery on her own, and try to improve herself while she's at it.


What knowledge or Wisdom does Lotte *try* to use? (Choose 1)

[] Try to think of some folk saying they haven't heard before, some piece of wise story or cant.
[] Carve an image of the Nachtmater from memory and personal experience: surely not everyone has seen Her in person.
[] ...one of the names of the Forgotten God would certainly count, though it'd certainly be revealing to at least whoever she was telling it to.
[] Write-in.

******

A/N: So, there we go.

 

[The Laurent]

1:5

Lotte wasn't sure what a good proof was. Clearly, there was nothing she could say that would be new knowledge, at least not of the field lore she knew. Nor did she know any new stories, only old ones told again and again, worn out the way any practical person used cloth until it was good for nothing but the jakes, and then used it in the jakes.

But if she revealed the names of the Forgotten God, people would ask where she'd gotten them. Now, there was another thing she could do that would be a little more explainable. If she carved the Nachtmater as she remembered the Goddess, that would be something! But when asked how she knew how it looked, she could tell the story of meeting the Goddess. It was an extraordinary story, but it was the kind of story that did honor to her rather than the inverse. If they asked why or how a Lamia had the right to see her, Lotte would just…

Say nothing?

Lotte found a large log and began working on it at night, though she was sure some had guessed her purpose. It felt like it was best, despite the difficulties of lighting, to do such a holy act at night.

*******

Karle was a strange one. He talked like something out of a story about a scholar who had to be saved by adventurers, but there was a solidity to him. He didn't complain about the conditions, and he knew what made good firewood, and could dress an animal decently enough. It was nothing that would have allowed him to survive out as a wild-man, but it was impressive. He was the mirror-image of all of those effete nobles in stories who turned out to be hardier than they looked. He was as sturdy as a mighty tree, and about as unbending. Lotte was a little intimidated, and so she only got up the courage to really talk to him once in the four days it took to travel to the monastery.

"Have you met Lamia before?" Lotte asked, while they were taking a break by the stream and refilling their skins.

"A few, now and again. There are some in most cities, in the beastly quarters." Karle frowned, thoughtfully. "You've never been to a city, have you? The conditions in the quarters are bad, but then the lives of the poor in such unhealthful places are rarely pleasant. Not good for the humours, I'm told."

Lotte had heard just about the same thing before. She leaned down to continue to fill her water. The babble of the stream was a relaxing counterpoint to this heavy talk. "So, they just… lived?"

"Oh, yes. I suppose there are some professions Lamia cannot manage. I've never heard of a lamia burglar leaping from rooftop to rooftop."

"But aren't lamia known as…"

"Thieves? Liars? I suppose there would be some, though are there that many more than in any population? I cannot know." Karle nodded to himself. "If you cannot find a way to unravel the curse, I am sure that you can still have a life as an adventurer. You surely have the spirit for it."

Lotte flushed at the words of praise, and looked away. "Thank you."

"You shouldn't thank me for telling the truth. I am a scholar: lies get us nowhere except helplessly lost." Karle turned away, and Lotte could tell that he was done with the conversation. His expression even grew distant, and so she decided not to press her luck.

******

"What did you mean by all the questions?" Lotte asked Aisling, when the two of them scouted around the campsite on the second day. They wanted to be sure that there was nothing untoward, so that their sleep wouldn't be disturbed. There were the usual critters out there, but the air smelled clean and the road had not been too dusty. Now that there were five people traveling, including a scholar, multiple guards, and someone just as clearly a noble, Lotte didn't stand out.

(This wasn't true. It was more that Lotte was no longer an easy target. But it felt more true, and so Lotte was able to endure.)

"I mean that there are things about you that make me curious." Aisling looked around, her eyes narrowed. "I've always felt that Central Lands understandings of identity are so simplistic. Especially for a people whose Gods are not always either male or female."

Lotte frowned, thinking of examples. Everyone used it or they to refer to the Waldherz, and the Forgotten God was a 'they' as well. But wasn't that just what being a God could mean? Humans certainly couldn't do half of the things Gods were, so of course neither could they be half of the things Gods were.

Or, did she think that Lotte was somehow different? But if she thought that, then it'd be because she knew Lotte was some sort of demigod. But how could she? "Yes, but that's the Gods."

"Moreover, the Fae themselves can shift, from male to female and back again. They are ever-changing, though some are more definite, more sure of who and what they are. Unlike your Gods, we often… talk to them far more often, and even disagree with them." Aisling looked nervous, and no doubt because what she was saying was a sort of heresy. The Gods didn't demand unthinking obedience, though it was perhaps true that most didn't meet them. But then, Lotte bet that most Elves didn't meet the most powerful of the Fae. (She knew enough stories to know they ranged from pixies and brownies to beings of immense power.)

"It is not like that," Lotte said.

"Perhaps not. But either way, I want to tell you a story."

"You mean, like a fairy tale?" Lotte asked, suddenly enthusiastic. She really had heard too few stories from other lands. Wouldn't that be just a little like adventuring to the isles themselves?

"...I suppose so."

Lotte nodded, now knowing that she would have to listen carefully for the important moral to the story, and look beneath the words. It wasn't that some of it hadn't happened, but she'd been told that fairy tales were supposed to teach moral lessons. So she had to focus on that.

"I once knew a girl who was very different." Aisling said.

"Oh?" Lotte nervously said, leaning forward to listen.

"Many people thought she was a man, because she had been born with a… well, your parents are farmers, so I'm sure you've seen it. A prick. Yet she was a woman, and also one of the best bakers I'd ever seen. She was an impressive person, you know. Others doubted who she was, but she believed in herself." Aisling laughed. "Considering how dark and hopeless the world can be a lot of the time, it was honestly kind of impressive. I do like earnest, honest sorts of people." Aisling's ears twitched, and she snorted. "Look at me."

"Honest sorts of people?" Lotte asked, still trying to find out what the moral of the story was. Was it about being yourself? Or perhaps honesty?

"Well, there's Naja. No matter what sort of person she can be, she's very honest with being it. Not that we're doing anything other than fucking, of course." Aisling's face was a little flushed. "Still, even when she's being manipulative, she can't help but bring her faux-dashing adventure routine into it. It is really annoying, but… Lotte, what are you doing?"

Lotte was staring hard at her, and the faint blush on her face with a wide-eyed, happy look. Because it seemed so romantic! A guard and her charge, disagreeing and talking back to each other but clearly feeling far more than either one of them would admit! "Are you in love with her?"

"Of course I'm not. It's silly that you think that," Aisling said, with a roll of her eyes. "I'm fond of her, and she's attractive of course. You've noticed that yourself."

"Well, she is." Lotte couldn't even really deny it.

"But fondness and attraction do not add up to love, unless you're really desperate," Aisling said. "And--wait, you're distracting me! What I was saying was, she had to struggle to realize who she was. Because you can think you're one way but be another way and not even realize it."

Lotte winced at that, thinking about how different her soul and past was from what she thought it was. Were her parents secretly worshippers of the Forgotten One?

"And it's important to be true to yourself, I suppose…"

It was obvious now. Aisling suspected that Lotte was actually a lamia, rather than cursed to be one. She was trying to tell Lotte that it was okay, but there was no way she'd admit to it. She needed to hide it, right?

"W-what would any of that have to do with me? True to myself?"

Aisling sighed, like an air-bladder deflating. "Well, you see, her own journey of discovery began with--"

"Hey, guys. Are you done yet?" Naja called out, walking up. "I really need a buffer between Karle and myself. He's looking at me as if I am an idiot, rather than the bold adventurer that went into the prison of a God."

Aisling snorted. "It could no more hold a God than you can hold your liquor."

"You know, I am paying you."

"If you'd like to stop, you can." Aisling waved her hand, and strode back towards the camp. "But I don't think you'd dare."

Ah, love! It was a lot nicer to think about that than the obvious message of the story thus far: Aisling knew about Lotte's secret identity as a demi-god.

How was she supposed to convince Aisling not to believe something so true?

*******

Lotte almost spaced out, that night, as she carved. It was as if she was drifting away, and yet her fingers moved all the same, carving out the shape of the moth-God, the mother of Night. But it felt like she was adding what wasn't there, trying to capture something that couldn't be seen. Her fingers didn't feel up to the task, but then a lot of her didn't.

She was still getting used to her new body, but at least her fingers seemed to whittle as well as ever. At least she could rely on that. She went to sleep still clutching the log, now well on its way to becoming an idol.

She dreamed of bright wings.

******

"I wasn't done with the story," Aisling said, at the next possible moment, while they were eating dinner the next day. "I want to tell you more. I never got to my point."

"O-oh?" Lotte asked. "W-well, you know, I don't…"

"This girl I knew, the one I was telling you about, that thought they were a man for a while, before they realized otherwise…"

"Yes?" Lotte asked, with a resigned sigh.

"I'm trying to help you." Aisling rolled her eyes. "She didn't feel comfortable in the body she had. She was never happy masturbating, she told me, because she didn't like her cock. And she hated the facial hair she was growing, and the fact that she looked at her chest and couldn't' see breasts. She hated how deep her voice was, and she hated how she was expected by her parents to not care about cooking, cleaning, and especially baking. How she was supposed to like fighting and hunting when they bored her." Aisling spoke slowly, but with obvious fondness. "She was a woman, before she even realized this."

"I'm touched, but confused," Lotte admitted, frowning at Aisling and trying to divine what exactly she was telling Lotte this for. Were they bonding?

"Only you can say this for sure, but I think you might be a man."

Lotte's heart stopped beating for what felt like an eternity. When people talked about hearts skipping beats, they made it sound romantic rather than terrifying. "W-what would make you think that?" Lotte asked, already backing away.

"Your hatred of your breasts, how you carry yourself, the fact that you were able to enter a wing that neither of us were, the clothes you prefer aren't really much of a hint, but when we consider it all together, it does seem a little telling." Aisling frowned thoughtfully.

"The w-wing?"

"We couldn't enter the wing you could, you couldn't the one we could. What else could it have to do with?"

Lamia souls? But then, what about the man who was in there. The man--

No, impossible. "D-don't s-s-say stuff like that about me," Lotte hissed, a stammar finding its way into her voice when she'd never had one before. She was so terrified she almost couldn't think. "I'm already a lamia, a freak, and--"

"Are you calling her a freak?" Aisling asked, sharply.

"N-no. I'm calling myself…"

Aisling sighed, and Lotte could see the way that she wanted to continue the conversation. "You can be a guy if you want to be. The question is: do you want to be? Do you really? If the answer is yes, then as far as I can tell that means you've always been a guy. It's that simple?"

"What about any of that is simple?" Lotte demanded, her voice cracking a little.

"All of it. What it isn't is easy." Aisling shrugged. "You're an adventurer, you didn't sign up for easy."

"I don't have to--"

"Just think about it. It's annoying, but I do care about your happiness, and I think you'd be happier if you actually considered it and came to a real answer, not just the default."

Lotte shook her head. "I suppose I can… think about it."

Lotte was lying again. She wanted to ask again, what the things she'd done wrong were, so that she could stop doing them wrong and giving off the impression she was a boy. Surely she hadn't been doing being a girl wrong? Was there even a wrong way? There had to be, and somehow she was managing it.

But she was not smart, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that she'd fix it by just pretending to like whatever Aisling considered womanly. Skirts, and baking, and whatever else. It didn't work like that.

Even she knew that.

She'd just… try to ignore it.

******

Somehow this turned into neither Aisling or Lotte talking at all, even while the day slithered on, and they finally approached the monastery.

"There's a particular outbuilding on the grounds that houses the route in. Of course, there's also a path within the main building, but we won't be granted entrance through that way," Karle said.

"Wait, so is it actually kept secret from the nuns and monks?" Lotte asked.

"Not really, no." Naja shrugged, answering before Karle, who glared at her for butting in. "How could they?"

"Oh."

*****

The building on top of the hill was truly impressive. It seemed as much a manor as anything else, two floors high, with a gate around the area stretching almost that high. The top of the building was flat, no doubt to allow stargazing, and there were plentiful fields and even villages all around the base and in all directions from the monastery. If it really did come down to finding a building, squat and plain, near the base of the hill. It seemed to hold little more than extra equipment, spare plows for disasters, that sort of thing. It smelled a little terrible, but also a little familiar, and there was barely room for all of them. Karle had to walk around, banging his feet on the ground in some sort of pattern, until at last there was a click, and a part of the floor opened up into what seemed like a long, if rather steep, stairwell.

"I will go first," Karle said. "There's no danger."

"Ah! Karle!" the call came from down below as he walked just out of view. "It has been too long, and I've been too bored standing guard at this back entrance like this. Are you here alone?"

"Not at all. There's an entire party, including a lamia. But you will not believe the story that comes with them. Scholastic knowledge about… all sorts of things is about to be rewritten!"

"Ah, yes, send down this lamia of yours."

"Not mine at all, and considering she can hear us… please do come down, Lotte. And everyone else, after her."

It had to be a while after, since Lotte was long enough that you couldn't exactly press yourself up against her back while walking, not unless they knew her rather better than any of them here did. It felt a little odd, slithering down stairs. But it wasn't difficult, whereas Lotte had no idea what she would do if it came to ladders. In fact, now she was wondering whether Lamia houses had second stories, or whether they dug down instead. The Temple had been built tall, but that was a Temple. Temples tended to do the impossible to demonstrate the depth of feeling behind them. Or so the stories said.

The man Lotte was meant to see was short, and had a thick beard. It didn't look that well cared for, by the standards of beards, but a part of her--

"Only you can say this for sure, but I think you might be a man."

Lotte tried to push down any emotions the beard of anything else, barely looking at the dark-haired man, and then looked away.

"Huh. Interesting. I think Freddy will like this, if there's an interesting story behind it. And she's strong, too, carrying all of those packs." Lotte was festooned with them, since she'd agreed to carry a lot of the supplies in. There was also the carving she had to show.

"She's an adventurer. A new one, but already made a name for herself," Karle asked. "I can explain later, but she stumbled across something momentous in a ruin that Lady von Siebert found."

"You mean, your sister found--"

"She is not my sister," Karle said, voice thunderous. "But it is the woman you are thinking of."

The man's sigh was the gusty winds to that thunder. "I swear, Karle, one of these days you are going to attack someone who mentions her."

"I would never." Karle sniffed. "Everyone, you can come on down instead of listening in!"

Eventually all of them were piled into the almost-too-small underground pathway, which only went deeper down. They were required to wait for a while, part of the way through while the man--Louis von Vener--went on ahead to tell the others. Then they were guided into a circular room. In the center of which was a platform, upon which stood a man in his thirties, clean-shaven, with a strong jawline. His nut-brown hair looked like it was starting to recede, but it also looked as if it might be as soft as the best grass.

Lotte kind of hated that she noticed, considering she had so many other things to be concerned with at the moment than how well he filled out a green tunic, or how well his hose looked on his leg. She hadn't even heard him speak, so she knew it was nothing more than silly, animal attraction. People were distressingly like the pigs, cows, and horses, who certainly didn't mate for personality or mutual respect of interests. Though, she sometimes wondered, watching them, just how animals worked.

Certainly, affection among animals couldn't be denied. Cows could have friends, deer could frolic, birds chittered and chattered and sang out their conflicts and their passions. Humans--and in fact all the races of the world--were supposed to be different, though.

So it was with a blush that Lotte entered and tried to look away, glancing instead at the door they'd no doubt go through once they provided the payment.

"Frederick. It is good to see you." Karle nodded in his direction.

"And you as well, Karle." Frederick waited until they'd all filed in and took their places. Then he declared, "Karle, you've already paid, but nobody else has." His voice was deep, though his tone was casual. "So first, your guard--"

"Well, how about gossip. Does that count?" the guard, Sofia, said. "An Orimish tribe managed to beat back the Kurzach Kingdom in a skirmish. But there are fears that the Kurzachs will be back, and in greater numbers. If they are, they the Orime of that tribe will need allies. Can't know if they'll find them, but that's useful information, right?"

"I believe I will accept it. War and news of war is of little interest to many in our society, but not all. And news on the Orime is always appreciated."

Karle snorted at that, but for what reason Lotte couldn't say.

"Alright, I will go next. May I approach the podium? I talked to Karle about the character of the Keeper of this Library, that is yourself, and so decided that this bit of information would be something you'd like." Aisling smirked as she stepped forward.

"H-hey, you don't have to characterize me to random guards, Karle!" Frederick protested. But he bent down and listened to whatever Aisling whispered in his ear. His face went red, and he said, "O-oh, really? Very well, then. That works. Next, Naja von Siebert, then?"

"Well, this is just the start of it. But Lotte here was in fact cursed into the form of a lamia mere weeks ago. Karle and I can both testify to seeing her with legs, a perfectly extraordinary human hunter."

"You mean perfectly ordinary?" Frederick asked, with a frown.

"I said what I meant," Naja said. "She was exceptional before the curse, and she'll be exceptional once it is broken. Is that an interesting enough bit of information? It's why we're here, after all."

"Hmm. Yes, yes, that will work. And what about you… Lotte, was it?" Frederick asked.

"M-me? Well, there's this…"

Lotte opened one of the bags and carefully took out the carving, which was tall enough to go from the top of her chest to her brow, and wide enough with the wings to be very cumbersome. No doubt everyone else must have guessed what it was.

Frederick, on the other hand, stared at it. "You've seen Her, haven't you? It looks exactly like her."

Lotte, who knew her whittling and carving skills weren't that good, said, "I have, but it's not a very good likeness."

"Are you sure you aren't magical? Because I can see the rough parts. It is just a carved figure, but something about it invokes the… invokes the Goddess herself. Divinity, too. I saw Her just once, a decade ago, but one doesn't forget these things." Frederick's eyes seemed to gleam as he leapt down from the podium. Up close, Lotte could see that they were hazel, and very intense. "Could I please show this to the monastery? I don't have to tell them who made it, though know you're welcome to stay as long as you wish. Such payment is well worth the year you would get for providing an entrance fee."

"You would kick me out after three weeks," Karle said. "But then, this is quite expected of you, all things considered."

"You can show them, as long as they don't…" Lotte began.

"Ah, right. Never worry, Lotte," he said, with a gallant bow.

"If you are quite done flirting," Aisling muttered.

Frederick looked as red as a tomato, and Lotte was blushing as well when she looked away. "Anyways!" he finally said, with considerable bluster. "You may enter, and stay for at least a week, if not more. However long you need to take to do the research. This way, then, this way. There are cells for you to sleep in, and you'll of course have what privacy you need. There are only a handful of people here right now, and only one visiting researcher." He threw open the doors, and Lotte coughed at the smell. Books, books, and more books, and a considerable amount of dust as entered the space.

There were levels of floors piled on top of each other, with the bookshelves reaching to the very top of each floor, and a warren of passages, chairs, tables, rugs, and more making this place one bad candle from disaster, or so it seemed, but also strangely beautiful.

It was not the sort of place that interested Lotte, not being much of a reader, but it impressed her. "There have to be thousands of books here!"

"Tens of thousands," Frederick said. "The largest collection for a thousand miles. Larger even than that of the universities. And more than books, at that. Good luck, we have something of an organization, but there's a lot that remains tucked away."

Lotte wished Karle good luck, since of course she was not going to be any help at all in this.

While Lotte's waiting, what do they do? (Choose 2)

[] Since all of the searching is going to be about lamias only indirectly, and a lot more about curses, Lotte could *try* to find information and books about Lamia. How likely she'd be to succeed and then get much useful out of it is… unknown, but perhaps it's worth trying?
[] There was apparently one researcher already here. That meant a new person to meet and greet, and while this could end really, really badly considering that Lotte was now a lamia, perhaps they'd be a friend. And if not, one could still learn things.
[] Exploring the area in general could be done even if you didn't expect to find works. Look at everywhere there is, figure out what this place is even about.
[] Ask more about the monastery above. What would the people up above do if they learned there was a lamia beneath there. Did the Nachtmater ever visit? What could be done to divert them if they did?
[] Frederick was handsome, if a little strange. Would it be perhaps a little foolish to hang around and get to know someone better, just because you feel an entirely superficial and likely fleeting attraction to them? Yes. Is Lotte in fact eighteen years old? Also yes.
[] It wasn't Lotte's business, not directly. She could indeed spend some time in the cell, relaxing and napping, and otherwise keeping out of the way in favor of relaxation.

******

A/N: A lot going on in this one. Hopefully you enjoyed.

 

[The Laurent]

1:6

Lotte sometimes regretted her own ignorance and stupidity in the way of books and learning. Certainly, she regretted it whenever she ran face first into problems that only those who had actual learning could solve. But it was more than that. Lotte knew some people who disdained not only book learning, but even the ability to read and shakingly write their name. It was unnecessary frills on a life that had plenty to do, so those people said. Lotte, on the other hand, . respected those who were intelligent and thoughtful, such as Naja, Karle, and Frederick. But it didn't make it any less frustrating to be left behind.

It also didn't make the dust any less unsettling. Lotte coughed a lot in the first few hours of looking at shelf after shelf, with books packed tight and names only sometimes written on the spine. At other times there were instead labels. P24, Ch 38, and so on. It was baffling, and so Lotte just tried to remember things. She could tell that P24 was near P25, though not quite next to it. It was as if someone had put the books back in slightly different orders, but considering that Lotte's math and counting slowed down considerably above the tens places, she couldn't be entirely sure how they were supposed to be aligned. There was a P 312 at the end of one particularly huge shelf that seemed jammed into a wall. But it was next to a R 112, so how was she supposed to know?

She searched a little while longer, and felt no closer to understanding where everything was than at the start, two hours ago. She learned where a few things were. There were several sets of stairs, scattered around as if each had been an afterthought, and two privies, one near the top of the library and the other near the bottom. Both privies were well out of the way of the stacks of books, thought here were desks not that far away. It was the sort of place you had to learn by seeing, and even then she hadn't gone down into every dark corner to see whether she was missing anything. She had stopped to examine the desks, since they were a little strange by her vague understanding of what desks were. There wasn't enough room to really crowd the books that were supposed to be scattering it. A writing desk, perhaps? But didn't writing include writing or copying books? Lotte gave a mental shrug: what did she know?

So she walked around a little more until she found Frederick. He was smiling to himself as he sat at a chair, going over a book. Off to the side was a small table that had what looked like notes, and as she watched, he stood up, carefully walked over to the sheaf of paper, and began to take notes.

Lotte slithered closer, and he startled, then turned to see her. "Oh, Lotte! You're quieter than I thought."

"I am?" Lotte asked. She hadn't particularly been trying not to make any noise.

"I guess you're just light on your… erm." He coughed and admitted, "I'm sorry that I'm so awkward, I'm just surprised."

"It's okay, I'm awkward too," Lotte insisted.

"Well, so what brings you to me?" Frederick asked, with a toothy smile. "At the moment. Your friends are hard at work finding the cure to your curse."

"That's sort of what I was looking for," Lotte admitted. "Or, no." She bit her lip, and Frederick's grin turned into a concerned frown. "What if the curse cannot be undone? If so, I need to know more about what I've become. So I was thinking of finding books about lamia, well, true books about lamia, and learning more about their culture, and their physio…" Lotte frowned, as the word she'd vaguely remembered being used escaped her grasp. "Physical bodies."

"Ah, I could help with that. I admit that it can be confusing, sometimes. The system is simple once you understand it, but a lot of people don't." Frederick glanced at the book and said. "Actually, I could use this to show you." He set the book down and picked up the paper, turning it to show Lotte the writing on it. It was a little rough, loopier than she was used to. Fancy. But she could read lines for a title, for an author…

"See, how it works is, with each new book I write a new index entry. Title, author, what year the book was written and what year this particular copy was made, details about the author's background…"

"Why?" Lotte asked, frowning at that.

"Well, it matters whether she's a Duke's daughter, or he's a poor boy on scholarship at a university thanks to a Godly fellowship. So we list it, just short details about their parents or life situation, usually. Then, we list the category it goes in. Philosophy and Theology for instance, or History, or Medicine and Bodies, or Language and Philology. Then we list its number. For instance, the thousandth book on Language or Philology would be L1000."

"What's philology?" Lotte asked.

"The study of words and language," Frederick said, with a soft smile. "It is something of a passion of scholars to leave no word unturned. Finally, a brief description, perhaps only five or six sentences, of the content of the book. Then it is all put into an index so that anyone can look, index by index, and have an idea of what's here."

"That seems like it'd be easy to find things, then?" Lotte asked.

"Well, yes and now. How do you decide what goes where? Then there's the fact that since we have them all in order of entry, it means that actually finding them by looking on the shelves is a nightmare." Frederick shrugged. "Still, it's a good job, I think, and I should be able to help you."

"You know a lot about lamias?"

"Well… I know some, and I've always been interested in non-humans. Or those who temporarily appear nonhuman." He added the last hastily, as if terrified that Lotte would take offense.

"For practical purposes, I'm a lamia right now," Lotte said, biting her lip. "So."

"Well then, follow me! We can see what we can find."

******

Frederick was so smart, and very careful about gathering together books. He carefully pruned the list of those he felt were inappropriate or obviously inaccurate, talking the whole time about all the difficulties of a library. It was rather more work than Lotte ever would have been able to guess. It didn't really interest her all that much in general, but he had a deep, pleasing voice, and it was nice to have his help. He'd flip through a book before handing it to Lotte.

Even with his discernment, the pile of books grew, though he pointed out, "Much of the book won't be needed. Just read the parts that are important. I can make a space for you if you want." His face was remarkably red, and Lotte wondered if it was wishful thinking that she hoped it was about her and not about any awkwardness between them.

"Thank you," Lotte said. "Make space how? I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

"Y-you wouldn't. I would just push a chair aside, and then pile up some blankets and pillows for you to lie on while reading. You can stand, or stay completely upright and read, but you don't have to, as long as you don't eat or drink anything too near to the volumes and make sure not to tear the pages. But I'm sure you'll be careful." He chuckled to himself, and then added, "I know you will be."

"You don't really know much about me," Lotte admitted.

"You don't either, and yet you trust me to give you accurate knowledge to read through. For all you know, I could be holding back the best books in some bizarre scheme."

Lotte looked him over, leaning in a little towards him as he flushed and shook her head. "No, I don't think you are."

"Can you tell when someone's lying?" Frederick asked, breathless, leaning towards her just a little. His eyes were wide enough that Lotte knew it wasn't a joke at all.

"No, but I feel like I can trust you, and I trust my instincts. I do want to know you a little better, since you've been very kind in letting us in here. I've heard enough talk to know that beastfolk aren't welcome most places." Lotte frowned, thinking of Lisbeth, her heart thudding at the thought of her, and the kiss they'd shared. It hadn't seemed the kind of kiss that made a promise, that vowed eternal loyalty. Yet she didn't think her feelings for Lisbeth were diminished.

Despite that, she still wanted him to know at least a little more about her, and appreciate her.

"Alright. My name is Frederick of Amsburg, a town where my father was a pious butcher. His piety and my evident skill at learning led to me being sponsored for University when I was seventeen, and I did well there, and joined this society."

Lotte nodded, frowning. "So you get along with nobles?"

"I could ask the same of you. It's all about being seen as a person. And seeing them as people." Frederick shrugged. "You seem to have managed the trick, if even half the stories of your adventures are true."

"I haven't done all that much," Lotte said. It wasn't even modesty, just the truth. She'd had an encounter with a Rat Piper, an adventure involving the ghost of a martyr, then finally an ill-fated expedition into a ruin that had turned out to be a prison for a forgotten God.

"More than many people do in a decade," Frederick said. "Though if we're being honest, it isn't that much by the standards of the kinds of adventurers people tell stories about. But adventurers aren't everyone. They aren't most people. I went far and wide without being an adventurer at all."

"What did you do, abroad?" Lotte asked. "Though I think, if you're seeing the world like that, you're a sort of adventurer anyways. Where did you go?"

"I went as far as the isles, and I even visited Orime villages. I wanted to see all the types of Sepult, the elves, the Orime… all the kinds of people in the world who weren't just humans. Not that humans can't be varied, can't be different, but there's something about seeing someone who is so different to make you understand yourself better." Frederick spoke slowly, as if he were composing a letter, his head tilted up a little, to stare at a wall. He wasn't looking at her, not directly, and yet she felt his attention. His focus. "I even spent a few months in a beastfolk village, though I only met a lamia or two in that time. That was in my twenties, though. I've settled down a little more, I suppose."

"How old are you?"

"I was born thirty-four summers ago," Frederick said, with a frown, as if he'd rather not have to say that.

"Oh," Lotte said, face a little flushed. "I'd love to hear more stories about everything you had to have seen. You've met lamia, after all."

"We didn't talk much, though. I'm also curious: it's clear you can read, and that itself is impressive."

"It's just that I was given an opportunity," Lotte pointed out. "There are countless who don't get a chance who'd read better than I could. I stumble through pages like a child through a dark forest." She smiled and shook her head. "My mother had priestly magic, but I don't, particularly?" She could imitate some of the forms, and sometimes it could do 'things' but never quite what she wanted, and nothing like what a priest could do. Certainly she had no innate magic. "However, it also meant she was respected and useful in my village."

"Was your family rich?"

"By the standards of the village they were well off, but I've always heard the saying 'The tallest Sepult'... wait, is that rude?" Lotte frowned, not having ever thought to ask. "Mentioning their shortness?"

"It can be." Frederick rubbed at his chin, which looked like it had the start of a beard. "It all depends. Either way, you should not be so negative. Though I've also never heard you read. But being able to read at all is still impressive. It's not as if there aren't a thousand poor scholars like me who didn't get a chance. You see an opportunity, and you grab it. Or you try, at least. Sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, it's fine." Lotte slithered over a little closer to him. "I know what you're talking about. You just have to hope that Gods and whatever fate there is know what it's all for. Even if you don't."

What did the Forgotten God really want? Would it be terrible to do its bidding? But then, what would Lotte get from doing that? There were so many questions they overflowed, and so her mouth went with it as well, "I wish I could talk to the Nachtmater again."

"Talk to the… again?" Frederick said. "She said things to you?"

Lotte's heart was beating fast, in something between trust and distrust, between terror and hope. "She just apologized, though I'm still not entirely sure why."

"She apologized? Are you sure? Gods don't apologize, or so I'm told," Frederick said.

They were close enough to kiss now, and she had to keep her heart from pounding so hard it tore through her breast. She had to force herself not to lean in that little bit more, looking at the bright enthusiasm in his eyes. "She did, and I don't know why."

"Ah." Frederick bit his lip, and spent a very long moment staring at nothing. "Well, then, perhaps you want to go to a ritual devoted to her? The monastery is going to have a major ritual in two days, and perhaps She'll choose to show up, if you implore her presence. She does sometimes, for those blessed in her Sight, and if any place counts, it'd be here, right?"

Lotte nodded. "Could you possibly ask if I'm allowed to participate?"

"Of course I can. And I will," Frederick said. "You've gone through a lot, I can tell, and helping you is the least I can do."

"Thank you," Lotte said with a flush. "So, the… books."

"Well, first, what are you most interested in?" Frederick asked, with an eager look on his face.


What sorts of things does Lotte wind up reading about over the next few days? (Choose 2)

[] Biology and the physical bodies of Lamia.
[] Their beliefs regarding the Forgotten God.
[] Their culture, society, and customs.
[] Their magic, magical traditions, and rituals.
[] Beastfolk and general, and whether lamia and other beastfolk intermingle, and if so how.
[] The locations, if available, or where lamia might live… or might not, since any information would be old news.
[] Write-in.

*******

A/N: So, here's more scholar!

 

[The Laurent]

1:7

"The forgotten God," Lotte read, from one of the few books that seemed to actually talk about them, "Is like an idol to them, a promise, a hope that they feel will never be fulfilled. It is a mir… mir… age?, a chimera." Lotte frowned down and then looked up at Frederick. "What's a mir-age?"

"It's something you see only out in the deserts, where the heat means you see visions of things that aren't there. So you might chase an oasis, and find only sand," Frederick explained, very patiently considering she'd had to ask three different questions in the last two pages.

Still, there was a rhythm to reading, and the more she did it, the more she enjoyed at least the process of figuring things out. "So, lamia treat their God as a mirage?"

"The author claims they do," Frederick corrected, his voice gentle as he smiled at her.

"Ah. The author could be lying?"

"He could, though he's a credible enough scholar." Frederick frowned. "Then again, think of it. If you think that the Forgotten God is promising some great destiny, then what do you say to the way lamia live? There are some books on the matter, and I've met lamia before. If they are his--"

"Their," Lotte said. "It didn't feel like it was any one identity, when I saw it."

"Ah, yes. You did have an experience with the God. How did it seem? Was it terrifying? Horrible? Majestic?"

"It was canny and dangerous," Lotte said with a shudder. She realized that this was more than she'd said about the Forgotten God. "It talked to me, but it all seemed like it was nonsense."

"The Gods' wisdom often seems that way at first," Frederick said, leaning back a little and smiling wide. "But there has to be something in it, or where would we all be? But then when they disagree, we're left sifting the ashes of their conflicts."

Lotte nodded at that, understanding exactly what he meant. "But it never says what the Forgotten God even promises?"

"Well, who can know? I know that much." Frederick nodded to himself. "Lamia priests keep their most secret rites sacred from all outsiders. Only another lamia could learn everything about that, but I do remember… oh, I know a book that does mention their prayers, now that I'm thinking about it. Can you wait here for a little longer? It might take a few hours to find it."

"Why?" Lotte asked.

"The previous library Keeper decided it was secretive lore, and hid it away where we keep the books we don't want everyone to see. We can't destroy knowledge, that would be against our credo. But we can keep it away from others, as long as it can be accessed."

Lotte nodded, and when Frederick left, she continued to read.

******

What she learned, from the books she and Frederick had read, was that lamias were as secretive as their God in some ways. The Forgotten God was the chief God of all Beastfolk, but it was not the only 'forgotten' God, and other Beastfolk worshipped their own, and only occasionally referenced the Forgotten God, whose name was forbidden.

But there were still prayers, though they didn't include the actual name. They were almost like something you'd imagine for a play, words you were supposed to say:

"[Name] guard me, protect me in the shadows, allow me to slither through the darkness and doubt of the world, to reach the sun."

"By [Name's] thousand eyes."

Lotte couldn't exactly tell him that she knew several different names, and suspected there were more. Actually, that might have been a way to hide, wouldn't it? If there were so many different names, then how would you know if someone invoked them? Or if they were instead saying something to fill in where a name might be. The Gods Lotte knew didn't have many secret names, at least as far as Lotte knew. Everyone knew that priests of some Gods learned one or two secret names. But that didn't mean the name everyone heard wasn't real too. Yes, a name could be power, or it was in old stories, but trying to use the name of a God to move them was like trying to move a mountain with your pinkie.

Sure, you could touch it, but you'd have to be pretty stupid to think you had a chance of doing anything to it. Punch it as you will, it's only your own fist that will get broken. It, of course, was a lot more complicated than that, but that's what Lotte had gathered from the priest the one time he'd talked on it.

So it made sense, what else she heard, in a way. Priests of the Forgotten One apparently only dressed according to their station for rituals, sometimes even having another member of the village pretend to be them in order to fool outsiders. When they did rituals, they dressed in a cloak that was grey on outside, and all the colors of a rainbow on the inside to represent--apparently--the hidden splendour of their God.

The average person prayed to the Forgotten God in small ways, and there were no family shrines, though there was a lot of talk about the use of scales and other objects as talismans. Frederick, though, had gently cautioned her on trusting that, pointing out that the same was often said of witches, and in his experience was only halfway true, and then sometimes.

Lotte liked hearing Frederick speak, but she made sure to pay attention. He'd seen so much more of the world than she had, and she still didn't understand why he was being so patient with someone so clearly unlike him.

Still, she read, out loud in order to puzzle through the words, and by the end of the day she'd started to get a grips not only on religion, but on what role it played in villages. It seemed as if there was a sort of hope that didn't come from the afterlife, or even from believing in the work of your own two hands, but in thinking that perhaps the God would solve things.

Lotte didn't know what to think of that hope, and what to think of the fact that there was a single scant reference to the idea that lamia believed that a holy figure would come, the son of their God, and would… what? Lotte wasn't sure. The author of the work had carefully transcribed a word in a language that even Frederick didn't understand. Beneath it was a line of poetry, and this translated roughly. 'They will light the hearth-fires that were have been long but ashes' the first line read.

"You'd think they'd at least look at what they're translating," Frederick had groused as Lotte puzzled over what it meant. "What next?"

"They will sing the songs that have not been long sung/ Shackles will be shucked in the manner of loose scales.' Like loose scales?" Lotte guessed.

"Makes as much sense as anything else," Frederick agreed. "Interesting. I've never seen a religion like that."

"Like what?" Lotte asked, but she knew what he meant. She just didn't want to think about it, because if she was supposed to be a savior of some sort, what did that mean? She'd heard the implication of others, but were there none at the same time? Was she entirely alone, entirely unique?

A part of her had always dreamed of that, of being one of a kind. Those dreams had involved her doing something, rather than her being something. The difference felt like the difference between reading a book about a forest and walking in it, breathing the air, feeling at peace with the world.

But she couldn't explain anything of that to him. What if Frederick hated her, once he learned that she was a liar, like everyone said lamia were, once he learned that she was a demigod. None of the books spoke of the Forgotten God as anything except a monster, and yet if they were the ones who provided hope to the lamia…

Did Lotte have an obligation to them? She was a lamia now, wasn't she? But then, she hadn't chosen to be one. But who chose their births? Who chose their lot in life? She could rough-hew fate from any angle, but like a tree it would still be the same when it crashed down onto the ground. If there was a destiny she was standing on the path of, then could she fight it? There were stories that said she could; there were stories that said it was impossible.

Most of all, Lotte didn't know what all of this meant. But she was glad Frederick was at least here to help. "It's oddly personal, isn't it? Just one savior? But I don't have any room to complain. Central Lands traditions were odd to carry to other places, too. You know, you're not bad at reading at all. You shouldn't doubt yourself just because you don't know a few words you never had a reason to learn." She smiled at him, and got a delightful toothy smile in return.

*******

Karle visited her in her cell, for reasons that clearly were beyond him. He in fact began by saying, "Lotte, I really do not think it is any of my business telling you this." There were dark circles around his eyes, and he was shifting a little in place, as if he didn't dare stand still.

"Wait, is it something to do with the research?" Lotte asked, frowning. She had coiled her way around yet another book, this one common enough that Frederick hadn't had a problem with letting her read it in the cell. It was a small space, really, nothing more than a place to sleep, but she liked it in a way. It was cozy.

"No. We're continuing apace on our research, and should have more to say within a few days," Karle said. "But Naja, cursed be her name, wished for me to talk to you about Frederick."

"What about him? He's been very helpful, so far."

"He is a nice person, most of the time, but there's probably a reason he's taking to you as fast as he is," Karle said, face twisting up as if he'd drank bad beer.

"Why?"

"Frederick has always had… a thing for non-humans. He was in a relationship with a Sepult woman for a year or two, though that ended last year, and I know he's spent time in a beastfolk village, and there's the Orime he was in a relationship with for a few years, and the elvish man…" Karle shrugged. "He's not exactly been the sort to romance humans. Ever. As far as I know he's a perfect gentlemen with the men and women he loves, but the fact that he is attracted to them because they aren't human is, I suppose, worthy of concern."

Lotte's stomach fluttered when she heard that. There was a moment where it was almost flattering, that someone could be attracted to her now. But wasn't it wrong, for him to be attracted in such a shallow way?

Yet, if attracted, he could have done a lot worse than being nice and polite and encouraging to her. She knew people who had had crushes on her who'd been far less pleasant. She didn't know how to feel, and Karle seemed to sense that. "But I do not know if I agree. You can be attracted to someone for a dozen different reasons. If a person is attracted to me because they like intellectuals, does that make their attraction wrong?"

Lotte bit her lip, hissing between her teeth. "But is it the same as me being a lamia? Or looking like one? I didn't choose that, and I know people don't choose how they look either."

"They can, in little ways." Karle looked troubled, brow furrowed, eyes almost shut as if he were thinking. "I don't know. I can't tell you what to do. I would have said, a year ago, that it was better me giving advice than Naja, but she and Aisling do seem comfortable with each other. Naja has not yet managed to be annoying and controlling and grating enough to drive her away." Karle paused, and then opened his eyes and said, "I admit a part of me wonders whether she might not have changed."

"I'm… not sure."

"Everyone changes, and it's not always for the worse. But I am not required to like it." Karle crossed his arms, and looked so petty and annoyed that Lotte couldn't help but laugh.

But it was true. She'd changed, and she didn't know what to do with it. What if Aisling was right? Or what if she was wrong? Either possibility felt a little like stepping into a bear trap. "Neither am I," Lotte said, with a frown. "Thank you for telling me."

"You don't mean that. You're not thankful at all," Karle said, his voice a growl. "I do not appreciate being lied to."

"I'm not thankful now, but I needed to know," Lotte insisted.

"Then I shall leave."

And so he did. Lotte spent a long time staring at the door of the cell after he'd gone. Thinking.

******

The whole next day, Lotte wondered whether Frederick's smile when Lotte talked was for her words, or for her forked tongue, whether he imagined stroking her scales and feeling what they were like. It was very distracting, imagining their tongues mingling in a kiss, or his gentle hands stroking her tail. Not any part of her tail close to anything inappropriate, of course, just touches. It warmed her, though she couldn't imagine what would come next. No, that was wrong. She didn't want to imagine it, and not just out of any innocence, but that to imagine the kinds of things that would come next was difficult. She'd seen animals rutting, and she couldn't imagine herself there, couldn't--

Compared to that, learning about their culture was, if not easy, then at least less difficult. Half of everything consisted of lies, and half of the rest of misunderstandings, but plenty of scholars had been curious about how lamia and other beastfolk lived. Plenty of those scholars had been trying to create a sensation, or support one cleansing or law or another. But it was very clear, even in the most disparaging works, dry and dusty with age, that lamia stuck together.

This was presented as a bad thing, but in the cities their families and clans all lived nearby each other, though there were also reports of families dispersing throughout the Beastfolk quarters. But even then, you didn't find individual families holed up in some village alone. The only people you found alone were individual drifters, looking for whatever work they could get.

Families were apparently small, because of their poverty and because of the work that occupied so much of their lives. But they were tight-knit, and this perhaps hindered it as well. Nobody established their own household until they were married, and apparently few lamia were adventurers for the same reason that none were nobles.

But Frederick didn't seem daunted by that fact. "How would anyone know that there were lamia adventurers. They would see drifters, not heroes, and people pay too little mind to Beastfolk other than to harm them," Frederick insisted. "Though I do hope that if there is a cure to the curse, you find it."

The problem was, Lotte thought he meant it, even though she also suspected he'd no longer be attracted if so. But then, did that mean…

"I… fear that I won't escape this form," Lotte said. The truth was she knew she wouldn't. If it was what her soul was, then how could she change it. "Have you ever heard anything about such a change at all? Let alone it being reversed?"

"Well, it's not the same at all, but there are stories of Duke Magnus' university, some ways south, and what they did two decades ago."

"Which is?" Lotte asked.

"...alchemy and magic combined. They were attempting to alter the makeup of the soul itself. They thought if they could turn the nature of a dog into the nature of a cat, then the body would follow more easily, and that such learning would lead to the legendary stone that all philosopher-alchemists seek, which can turn lead to gold, lies to truth, and a whole host of impossible feats." Frederick coughed. "But there are rumors of dark experiments and clearly the Duke thought so too, because he stopped any such experiments. There were pyres, there were deaths." Frederick shuddered. "So much knowledge was destroyed that, even if it was terrible, should have been preserved."

Lotte wasn't sure she agreed, but gave a nod as if she did. Frederick seemed to calm down, and they read for several more hours, learning about how apparently lamia and beastfolk had their own songs and their own instruments, and it seemed as if they often gathered together in… well, the books often called it ungodly… gatherings to party all through the night, getting outrageously drunk and breaking all sorts of taboos.

(This, however, sounded not all that different from the festival that her village held after the end of the planting in the fall.)

Finally, Frederick stood up, as Lotte blinked back sleep and read over yet another account of the many sins and evils of the lamia family. "It's time to go."

"Go? Already? Wasn't that at midnight?"

"It is almost midnight already," Frederick pointed out. "You got lost in a… well, from your frown, a bad book."

Lotte had decided not to read it aloud, for all that this made it harder for her to read it at all. "So, I'm allowed to go?"

"Yes, I did say I would do what I could. If you wish to observe a rite of the Nachtmater, now is your chance."

******

They'd come up through a dark set of stairs, and she slithered up yet another set of stairs, past a remarkable number of casks for beer and bottles of what she assumed were wine. It was cold down there, cold and dark and typical enough. She was used to the sensation of stone against her tail, but she still felt exposed as she went up. It wasn't hard to go up stairs, at least, despite her lack of legs, but she was glad Frederick went ahead of her, rather than watching her back.

The halls of the monastery were wide, but remarkably empty, the walls bare, the floor bare, but everything smelled faintly of something rich and woody. She expected at any moment to see anyone, but instead they made their way to a set of doors, and opened it out into a… grove.

At the center of the monastery, then, there was a garden, a grove of sorts, with trees here and there, and a small pond. There were a dozen hooded figures standing around one of the trees, and each of the trees glowed with the light of carefully hung lanterns. Overhead, the light of the half-full moon cast its halfhearted shine upon everything.

"Greetings, Frederick The Keeper. And is this the lamia you said sought to observe our rites?" A woman asked, stepping forward and pulling off her hood to reveal a grey-haired, withered woman with only one eye. The other was scarred over, and that made her gaze seem even more penetrating.

"My name is Lotte," Lotte added, looking around as if each gaze upon here was a brand, an arrow aimed at her heart.

"You wish to observe our rituals?" what had to be the abbess replied.

"...Yes," Lotte muttered, not sure if her wish to talk to the Nachtmater would be believed.

"Then we shall begin. Sister Fenja, begin." They all knelt around the tree, and Lotte did the same, shifting her body so that she was as low as she could manage without laying on her belly. Frederick, after a moment, did the same.

"Oh Goddess, bright of countenance in the darkness of this place. Oh goddess, we beseech you, bless our nights and light our way, let those that would sneak through the dark looking to destroy us stumble upon rocks, trip upon their feel. But let them find their way if they are our friends."

Lotte listened, eyes wide, as the words began to wash over the clearing. There was a splash from the pond, but Lotte just focused on the tree. She felt something, coming closer.

"We ask, as well, that those who are your loyal servants, ask and speak to you, and that you may hear. We have guests today, Frederick and Lotte, a lamia. I do not doubt," the Abess said, taking over from the Sister with a grim intonation, "That they seek only to know more, but if they wish to address you--"

"I do," Lotte said, rising up to her full height. "I wish to ask something of the Nachtmater."

"Ask something of her? Do you hope to dream?" the Abess asked.

"Yes, if that is how She wishes to visit," Lotte said, her heart thudding in her chest.

"How she wishes to visit?" a man asked, speaking out of turn. "How else could she visit a lamia?"

"In person," a very familiar voice said. No, it wasn't familiar, because Lotte had never heard it. No, she'd had it projected into her mind. But somehow she knew who it was. Everyone else threw themselves prostrate, gaping at them. Lotte moved to join them, and heard, "No."

"You're speaking to me," Lotte said, turning to see her, hovering above the water, a giant moth, each wing-beat making all the stars in the sky glow brighter. "It's not…"

"As overwhelming? No. It can be, but I choose not to now. Lotte," she said, her voice remarkably soft. "Is that what you are still called? Is that what you wish to be called?"

Lotte couldn't answer, she just stared. "I… I have questions to ask, if you would answer, Nachtmater. I know I have no power to force you to answer them, nor would I use such a power if I could, for you are a God and I'm mortal."

"You may ask two questions," the Nachtmater said. "You asked one before, so boldly."

She flapped closer, and Lotte realized that everyone was watching and listening. She'd have to be careful what she asked and how, if she didn't want anyone to read too much into what they were saying.

What does she ask? (Choose 2)

[] "Last time we talked, you said you were sorry. But what would a God have to be sorry about? Why would you tell me sorry?"
[] "Did my parents… know?"
[] "What do they really want?"
[] "What should I do?"
[] "What will… other Lamia think?"
[] "What does it mean? What happened?"
[] Write-in.

******

A/N: So there we go!

 

[The Laurent]

1:8

At the heart of it, there were people she was supposed to trust with her life. Her parents were among them. They'd raised her, had taken her in as nothing more than a babe. They had choices, while abandoning the baby to die would certainly be looked at poorly, everyone whispered about how, in times of famine, mothers were sometimes forced to make difficult decisions. Besides, they could have brought the child to a priest and the priest would have been obligated to find some parent or another.

Instead they had kept her, and named her, and she had become of their flesh in a way more important than birth. (Lotte knew that whatever It claimed, He was not her parent, She was not the one who had acted as a parent. At least, she knew that most of the time, when she didn't worry, when her thoughts didn't go down the wrong path as blind as a novice in a dark forest.)

But what if her parents were simply employees, simply secret cultists? "Did my parents… know?"

The Nachtmater didn't have a human face, and yet somehow the proboscis and body managed to look a little bit pained for just a brief moment. If Lotte wasn't staring at her so intently, she might have missed it. Even then it was odd, Lotte just felt a sort of tug at her guts, as if she knew there that the Nachtmater was about to lie.

"Of course, being what it was, such choices would have been decided well in advance. Why wouldn't your parents have known?"

Lotte took a long, deep breath and said, "Please, do not lie to me."

There was a gasp, going around and around. You didn't accuse the Gods of being liars, at least not most of them.

"They… were perhaps less aware than it might be expected considering the situation."

Lotte stared at her for a long moment, trying to think about this. Expected by who? The Forgotten God? Did that mean that previous 'sons' were raised by cultists but she hadn't been? If so, then was it Nachtmater who did so? But Lotte had no idea why she'd do that.

Lotte took a deep breath, feeling a moment of self-assurance. They weren't lying, they weren't faking. They didn't know what Lotte was… though of course that meant that Lotte would have to tell them, one day. It was a mixed blessing, but only a little mixed.

It was a weight off his chest. In fact, thinking about that saying made her realize there was a literal weight off her chest, and she was too tired and too excited by the news to deny it. She liked that she didn't have any breasts at all, as if she could somehow breathe easier, as if her breasts had been giant weights that were now gone.

Which brought Lotte to another question. 'What am I?' No, that was too blunt, and what if the Nachtmater actually answered honestly? Lotte could already feel the scrutiny multiply after that first question. But she could also feel the tension, the way that the Nachtmater seemed unwilling or unable to simply go away. Lotte knew it didn't have to do with her importance, it was probably just the curiosity of a Goddess.

"What does it mean? What happened?" Lotte asked, as the Goddess drew closer. She smelled faintly of pollen, and shimmered in the half-light of the moon.

"A door was opened. It cannot be opened if there is no door. And it means what you will it to mean. There is no one Fate that you must obey." The wind whistled through the trees as she finished speaking. "It does not mean you were turned into a monster. It means that you are as you are. Do you think I, of all the Gods upon these lands, judge others for being, or becoming, beastfolk, especially Lamia? I do not." She turned to the abbess and said, "The night ends soon, and another night begins. The light which has long been half-shadowed might come out from its cloud. Or perhaps it will rain. Either way, one must prepare for it. I shall come in dreams and portents to speak more on this matter, but the word must be spread through the midnight networks."

Lotte gaped, more stunned than she had been in a long time. She couldn't even imagine what this meant, for it sounded like the sorts of words that preceded wars between Gods, great upheavals, things that felt a long way from her slithering through the garden of some monastery.

She was as she was? If there was no Fate, then why was she supposedly acting upon Lotte and the world? What were her plans? But Lotte knew that she wouldn't understand them even if she was told them outright, and she was aware that she was asking a lot of a Goddess who had not ever asked anything of her.

"You are afraid," the Nachtmater said, suddenly turning to her, moving even closer. "You should not be." Now it loomed over her. "You have a strong and stable heart. You think yourself a fool, but… what is foolishness?"

"I… do you want an answer?" Lotte asked, uncertain. Often times people asked questions just to ask them, to make a point. She'd never gotten that. It had something to do with being rhethorical? Roth… ore… something. Something like that. She was blanking on the word at the moment. Which was yet more proof of her stupidity.

"Yes. I cannot see into your thoughts, but it is very clear there is much you do not yet understand. But that is not folly."

Lotte nodded, even though she didn't agree. Despite all the opportunities she was given, she still had to drag her way through books, she still misunderstood the words of others. At times it seemed as if understanding swam always just out of grasp. "I… will think on your words."

"Do so, please," Nachtmater asked. "I will be watching you, but judgement is not always so clear in the night."

With that mysterious saying She… vanished. One moment she was there, and the next, without any flashes of light or any signs at all, she was gone.

"I… I should be going," Lotte said. "Thank you for allowing me to view your rites." She bowed low to the abbess, who gaped at her.

"Wait… we should discuss what was said," the abess argued.

"My friend is tired, and is not a priest," Frederick said, stepping forward, his face blank. "She does not need to be interrogated or questioned now, if she does not wish to be."

"N-no," Lotte said, firmly.

They left with eyes on their back, Lotte slithering ahead of Frederick, who seemed to almost be trying to shield her with his body, as impossible as that was.

"You can ask," Lotte whispered when they'd reached the stairwell down into the 'hidden' library.

No doubt he thought she was a freak, that there was something wrong with her, or perhaps worse, something wondrous about her when she was not that special. Even if she was a demigod, that wasn't something she chose, that wasn't something about her, it was something that had happened to her. She didn't want to be an idol to be worshipped, or a strange… exotic marvel, let alone a bizarre horror.

"But you don't want to answer. Why would I demand answers? They are yours to give or not. I do not deserve to know everything about you."

"What?"

"I've been to many places. Do you think I did so by demanding explanations to anything I didn't understand." Frederick sighed. "No, you have to listen to people, respect them, and let them teach you if they want to… and if they don't, or don't want to reveal things, you accept it. Pressing them, treating them like a fascinating work of art… what would that have aided me? I hope you don't think I'm like that." His voice was so downcast that Lotte almost confessed about what Naja had told her, which of course was part of the reason she'd worried and doubted.

"Thank you," Lotte said again, her voice a little more stable and a little louder. "Thank you, Frederick."

Frederick sounded like he was smiling when he said, after a silent minute of Lotte going down the stairs first, "You're welcome."

*******

It was almost noon the next day when Naja finally found Lotte, curled up over a stack of pillows and a large desk, reading through yet another volume that seemed to emphasize only the sins and strange habits of the Lamia.

"There you are! We finally made a breakthrough. Dunno what you've been up to, but I've been brilliant!" Naja grinned, and Lotte looked at the dark circles around her eyes and her general dishelvement.

"What happened?" Lotte asked.

"Well, I was staying up late reading, and I fell asleep, and I just… figured it out. I'd been on the right track the whole time. One of the books I wanted to look over again in a few days once I'd chased down other leads was the right one!"

"A… dream?" Lotte asked.

"Yeah. I don't think it was anything special. I'm amazing, but dream visitations seem rather unlikely," Naja von Siebert said, leaning in closer to Lotte as if to see what she was reading.

"I… last night, the Nachtmater…"

"What?"

Lotte cleared her throat. "I went to a rite of the Nachtmater and she showed up, and we talked for a little while."

"You what?!"

"It's… I don't want to talk about it," Lotte said. "I think I presumed too much."

"Well, alright I guess. Now tell me all about it. You don't get to say 'I don't want to talk about it' to me. This could be important to our research!" Naja demanded.

Lotte thought of Frederick's words and shrugged. "I asked about what happened to me, and she didn't answer directly. I asked whether my parents knew…"

"Hmm. Alright then. I do want to hear more, but I'm sure you're excited to learn that apparently your soul had to have been transformed! Aisling agreed, and Karle came around to it. Only the transformation of a soul could make something like this stick for more than perhaps an hour, and probably less. Which means we need to talk to a soul expert, or at least read the notes of one. And we've thought of two places that might work."

"Three," Lotte said, thinking about what Frederick had said about a university and soul research. "There's a university down south that researched souls."

"Oh. Right. I remember hearing about that. That could be an option, too. Either way, we've agreed to go with you to the next stop. It might be good research, and I just want to see this through."

Lotte thought about the kinds of things they could say, or even reveal, and yet nodded anyways. She was already lying to them. Once they learned she was, she didn't want to think about what would happen.

She'd have to just… keep on going forward.

******

Some time after dinner--which was boiled meat and vegetables--there was a knock on Lotte's door. "Come in," Lotte said. She'd just been laying around, checking her bowstrings and making sure her pack was in order.

Frederick stepped in, dressed down a little, in clothing that seemed like it would be more comfortable to sleep in than his usual. "I've heard you're leaving."

"I am, yes," Lotte said. "We're supposed to be going at dawn, but I'm pretty sure for them that means within a few hours of sunrise."

Frederick laughed. "We scholars don't have many reasons to be as strict about hours as you are, when we can elucubrate."

"Elu-what?" Lotte asked.

"It's when you stay up all night studying or writing by candlelight," Frederick said. "It's a hazard of the trade."

"Huh," Lotte said. You apparently learned new things every day, though she had a feeling she'd never use that word in her life.

"I suspect we won't meet again, at least not anytime soon, after you leave," Frederick said, a slight frown on his face.

"You've been very good, though Naja warned me about you."

"Naja did?" Frederick asked.

"Well, Karle told her something…"

"About what?"

"Your history." Lotte shook her head and hesitantly added, "How you only get… involved with non… non-humans."

Frederick's eyes lit up. "So now you're worried about how I was being polite to you?"

"You were more than polite. You were nice, very nice," Lotte said. "I will miss you." Not every day, not constantly, but he'd been good to her, and she was attracted to him.

"You're still worried."

"Wouldn't you be? I think I might be a lamia forever, but…"

"Did you see me flirt with Aisling?"

"No? You flirted with Aisling?" Lotte felt jealousy stir in her belly like a thousand angry hornets.

"No, I didn't!" Frederick said, stepping forward. "I didn't because I wasn't attracted to her. If it was just about not being human, then shouldn't I be trying to seduce both of you? No, I like you. I think you're smarter than you think you are, and certainly bolder and kinder too. I've heard a little about what you've done, and I've seen the way you pay attention, focus even when you're not of a scholarly bent. You're amazing, Lotte." Frederick said it all so simply, as if it didn't need to be embroidered with the kind of fancy phrases he sometimes used.

As if it was an undeniable truth.

Lotte's body moved almost on its own as she shifted towards him, slithering, heart beating faster and faster. Lotte stopped and said, "May I…?" as she reached down slightly and touched Frederick's chin.

Frederick's eyes were wide, but he nodded, as Lotte kissed him. It was just a peck on the cheek, but that close she could smell him. He smelled clean, of course, but more than that there was a faint floral scent to him, perhaps some sort of perfume or something in his bath. It was almost intoxicating as she kissed him again, and this time his tongue slipped into her open mouth, touching hers. It was strange, having a forked tongue, and she shuddered at the strange feeling.

It wasn't a bad shudder.

She knew she had far less to recommend her, especially scent wise. If she was lucky she didn't smell of sweat at all. She hadn't been exercising, so perhaps not. Frederick wrapped his arms around her shoulder, as careful as someone walking over a trap. He was probably ready to pull them back if she said no. Instead she kept on kissing him, until he had to pull away.

It was strange and messy, and there was drool on her lips as her head swam. She could have kept on kissing, but apparently he ran out of breath easier.

"Huh," Frederick said. "You know you're beauti…" Frederick trailed off as Lotte winced without meaning to. "Handsome?"

Somehow that word felt better. It was still a lie, though. "No I'm not."

"Well, I'm attracted to you, and I say you look handsome to me," Frederick said, gently, easily, as if she were an easily spooked animal. Perhaps she was. She shifted forward to hug him again, placing a softer, gentler kiss on his lips. She was still far from an expert, she'd just done what felt natural, but it was still a little bit charged. She hoped the flush on his face meant he liked it. "I… it's up to you to decide what comes next, if anything does."

Lotte hesitated, as he shifted slightly closer to the door, not sure what she really wanted. She wasn't sure of a lot of things. She did know that thinking of him on top of her, rutting like animals, made her feel sick. The arousal turned bitter and began to fall away just thinking about it. Even if it didn't disgust her--and she was starting to wonder why it did, thanks to Aisling--she wasn't sure she was ready for that. But what else was there? She knew that there were people in her village would know, and there were songs that would have been sung long after she'd gone to sleep. She vaguely remembered hearing that one could put one's mouth upon other… body parts.

But she had no idea whether she'd want that or not, when she wasn't sure whether she was… what if she wasn't a woman. It would certainly explain not wanting to… have things… there.

Flushing, she thought about what she wanted. "You could stay the night, just to sleep. If… you wanted."

"Do you want me to?"

Lotte thought for a long time, and gave her answer.

*****

The next day they left, far closer to noon than dawn, as Lotte had suspected.



*************

Votes!

Does Lotte sleep with Frederick?

(This is no sly insinuation. I mean sleeping, and perhaps cuddling, and nothing else intended or done--because Frederick wouldn't do that. Though whether others in the party will know that and refrain from teasing Lotte, who knows?)

[] Yes.
[] No.

Where to next?

[] The university to the south, in a powerful duchy, used to deal in soul research. There might be researchers left, and it's said that the entire wing is haunted, or at least troubled, by what happened. It is not an entirely safe place, and there may be dangers and hidden secrets, but certainly it is also a learned place.
[] In the Blackbriar woods, it is said there is a witch. Many of the locals think she is maleficent, cruel and dangerous, while other visitors from outside speak of her beneficence, and her willingness for reasonable prices to aid others. All of them agree, however, that she is a Mistress of changes to both souls, bodies, and--some whisper with fear, others with excitement--minds.
[] There are rumors of a large beastfolk village in one of the largest forests in the region. The hints are very subtle, and as it was written five years ago, it might not still be there. But if it is, it is almost certain there are lamia, including priests who would no doubt know quite a lot about Lotte's soul… though of course she'd have to be very, very careful with who learns what, and a Beastfolk village might be as uncomfortable for the humans as… literally everywhere Lotte has ever been since the change has been for her.


XP Gains: 1 (Completing the adventure)+1 (Making a Friend)+.5 (Learning things)+.5 (Nachtmater Confrontation)=3 XP, so at 2/18, and Level Up to 3.



Choose 1 Racial or General Trait, 1 Class Trait, 2 Divine Traits (special one-time offer), 1 Level 0 or 1 Trait pickup from non-Divine categories

General Traits

Light Sleeper (General, Level 1): Perhaps you always were a light sleeper, or perhaps it is new development in the face of dangers and adventures, but you can wake up very easily at threatening sounds, and when roused you don't spend an hour groaning, insensible, and useless.

Hum It A Little (General, Level 1): You have a newfound appreciation for music, and you listen more closely to songs, and can even hold a tune… or at least hum a tune. It has no magical significance, but music is a universal language, and it relaxes you.

If You Turn It Sideways (General, Level 1): Lotte isn't a genius by any measure, but they did spend some time recently working their way through books, and while they didn't get everything, they have become a little better at drawing out at least some of the meaning that books hold.

The Price Of Everything (General, Level 2, Pre-Req: Penny Wise): You know what your services are worth, and even if you're not necessarily a great negotiator of your adventurer's reward, you have the knowledge to deal sharply in your own interests.

Loading and Unloading Only (General, Level 2): You've spent several weeks guarding merchant's caravans, and this experience means you've sometimes been asked to help out. It's helped develop your strength, and also your knowledge of how to fit things onto carts and how to get them off. Hey, if the whole adventurer thing doesn't work out…

Killer Instinct (General, Level 2): You don't like killing people, but having thought through it, and having considered everything, you're able to do it again without quite as much pain. Perhaps you've lost something, but at the same time, the life of an adventurer is violence, isn't it? And apparently you're good at it, or at least capable of it.

Adventurer's Eye (General, Level 3): It isn't much of a skill in one sense, but Lotte can sometimes tell when someone is an adventurer. It's not as simple as some sort of mark, and of course plenty of people can explore, but there are people who wear wanderlust as a perfume, and knowing who they are can be important.

Steel Nerves (General, Level 3): You've seen enough strange places and done enough fantastic things that you are less likely to panic in terrible situations, and more likely to think things through, however difficult. This doesn't mean you can't panic at all, but you have a grip on those nerves.




Racial Traits--Human/Lamia, Central Lands

Physical

Well-Built (Level 1, Human/Lamia, Physical): You were already pretty fit, but your experiences have given you plenty of practice. You are built to take hits and give them, built to work all the live-long day and still be standing at the end of it. You're not an Orime, but who is? Besides Orime.are not like you, either.

Slithering Speed (Level 2, Physical, Lamia): Learning how to move as a lamia is difficult, but once you figure it out you can move a lot faster than expected, even if your endurance isn't any greater than before.

Snake Eyes (Level 1, Physical, Lamia): You can see in the dark pretty well. It isn't perfect, but the night is not nearly so dark and full of dangers as you expected it would be, for whatever reason.

Taste Of The Air (Level 2, Physical, Lamia): You have quite an ability, though one still being drawn upon, to 'taste' the air in order to smell things that are more difficult to smell. Being a hunter, you have figured out immediately just how useful this could be to track animals or foes.

Iron Stomach (Level 1, Physical, Lamia): You are not quite immune to poison, but you can survive it… and in fact rotten food, a lot better than you could before you became a lamia.

Climbing Tail Stance (Level 3, Physical, Lamia, pre-req Steady Tail Stance): Ladders are still far beyond you, but it's possible to rise up as high as you can, wrap yourself around, say, a tree, and then use her hands to pull yourself up, before getting up. There are of course things it can't help one climb: buildings, ladders, but it's honestly a pretty cool thing to be able to do, even if the first time Lotte did it they were stranded on top of a tree with no idea how to get down.

Tail Whip (Level 3, Physical, Lamia): You have a long tail, and you're physically fit. Of course Lotte found it out in an accident that involved apologies, but if they move their tail fast enough, they can knock people over, and even batter them around.

Stone Stomach (Level 3, Physical, Lamia, Pre-req Iron Stomach): You're basically immune to poison, and it'd take really bad food to really feel it. There are a few well-known poisons that are exceptions, but even those you can build up a resistance to. In fact, poison tastes oddly… good to you, as if it's doing something important and good to be ingesting some of it, as long as it doesn't hurt you.




Cultural

That Old Time Religion (Level 1, Human--Central Lands, Cultural): After your experiences, you aren't necessarily content to just remember what you do about the religion, and you've been speaking earnestly with a number of priests, and having read--or even reading--more passages, on the various Gods and their nature.

Have A Drink? (Level 1, Human--Central Lands, Cultural): You have of course drank a little beer before, but those on the road have introduced you to the fine art and craft of getting rather drunk. You don't overindulge, but it can be nice, and you can hold your beer decently enough to join in on drunken songs and games, and otherwise fit in in a hard-drinking culture.

That Old Forgotten Religion (Level 1, Lamia -- Cultural): You know a few prayers now, and while anyone else would struggle with the secrecy of the cult, you also know some names. If you're willing to be brave, you could put those two together, and see what you can do. Maybe it would help if you met Lamia later, maybe it would just help you reach out to your… parent?

Rough and Rowdy (Level 3, Human-Central Lands, Cultural): Your people (well, they are of course now the sort ot view you as not them, but…) have a tendency to be blunt about things, even a little crude. While Lotte is perfectly polite, traveling up and down the Central Lands is certainly one way to get his ears and tongue used to coarser talk, and more aware of the possibilities therein.


Class Traits

A Balm To Ease (Level 0, Healing Priest): Lotte was reminded of what their mother had been teaching them about priestly magic. Lotte remembers very little, but with a bit of work they were able to touch someone and ease their pain somewhat. It was not an extraordinary ability, and an ill-practiced one, like a Mage casting sparkling light in terms of true skill, but it was more than nothing.

Way With Animals (Level 1): A skilled hunter knows the beasts, the birds, the creatures of the forests that they love. They know how not to make an enemy of a bear, and how to avoid hungry wolves. They know what it means when birds aren't singing, and they know how to, if not tame, then at least feed and gentle such animals.

Faithful Companion (Level 1): Lotte has come across a stray dog, and decided to rescue her and train her up a little. A dog's a person's best friend, and when trained up they can be a loyal hunting dog, willing to defend them from all sorts of dangers, and serve as a lookout.

Trapmaking Basics (Level 1): Traps are quite useful for a different sort of hunting. One can put together or take apart the kinds of bear traps, pit traps, and tripwires that were quite common in the forests of the central region, when one has cause to use them.

One On The Wing (Level 2): You've practiced shooting down birds. This doesn't necessarily pay off in some ways, but you are now a lot better at hitting fast-moving targets above your head, which might well be practice that can be used for other areas.

Tracker's Ways (Level 2): Your recent experiences have taught you how much you have to learn about tracking people or animals in the woods, and so you've redoubled your efforts, learning quite a bit about how you might track more difficult targets in the future.

Leave Few Traces (Level 2): The experience of being on one side of the hunt makes you wonder how you'd hide your tracks if you were being hunted, or tracked by hostile enemies, as sometimes does happen in adventures. You've begun to practice how not to be followed in the woods, and perhaps elsewhere.

Skinning (Level 3, Hunter): Lotte has figured out how to skin animals to preserve their hide, and has learned, through asking some questions of Karle, who has read a little of everything, how to do more with their kills than they were able to do well. This both provides an extra resource, and the hides themselves could be used for clothing or even winter armor.

One Nocked (Level 3, Hunter): You've gotten used to the idea that your hunting skills will also be used in battle, or else you'd not be so skilled. You can loose arrows with reasonable accuracy faster than before, sometimes even faster than your enemy can respond, if a fight suddenly breaks out, and if you're willing to panic and move as fast as you can, you can get some impressive speed, even if it harms the accuracy.

Woods Sense (Level 3, Hunter, pre-req: Leave Few Traces or Tracker's Way): You know the woods… not even your woods, but woods in general. You can get a sense for what's going on, where things are going, one that works at least for any woods even remotely similar to the ones you're used to. While you still might hesitate to go into the darker hearts of the woods, your abilities are remarkable in this regard.



Divine Traits

Lucid Dreams (Level 2, Divine): You can control your dreams, and more than that, on occasion you glimpse something beyond them, as if your mind is a bubble at the edge of reality, and beyond lie terrors, yes, but also wonders.

Captivating Eyes (Level 2, Divine): You can sometimes 'catch' people with your eyes. If you're concentrating, they'll find it slightly more difficult to look away, though any sense of threat or danger breaks it immediately, and they'll hear your words clearly, actually listening… or at least hearing them. There's no requirement to listen to them, nor does it seem as if anyone's mind is being altered in any way, but it's an interesting, if bizarre, power, and certainly is a new take on 'lost in their eyes.'

Nibbly Teeth (Level 2, Divine): You have fangs as well as teeth. Yes, they lack any of the poison of a snake, and while they no doubt hurt to be bit with, it seems more cosmetic… at least as far as Lotte can tell at the moment.

A Taste For Lies (Level 3, Divine): You sometimes have a feeling whenever Gods are lying. It's hard to describe, since it's far from simple and certainly not straightforward, but there's a flavor in the air when a God lies, though of course subtle or clever lies can escape that, and humans can lie to Lotte all the livelong day without being noticed. And of course, the Forgotten God is an accomplished liar, so it might not work on them either…

Slithering Shadows (Level 3, Divine): You can blend into the shadows better than you should be able to. At night, and in darker areas, you can seem to shift away from sight. It doesn't work well in a wide-open space, but that little bit of extra secrecy can be very useful as a hunter, and as someone who might need to sneak through various areas.

A Two Way Mirror (Level 3, Divine, pre-req: Captivating Eyes): When one looks into eyes, the mirror of the soul, you can look back. When they are caught by your eyes, you can see flashes of thoughts related to what's being talked about, or memories or emotions dredged up. These are just flashes, and you cannot dig deeper, willingly or unwillingly, into the mind of another, but even the ability to glimpse memories and know what they're feeling can be used to help them, understand them, or could even be used against them… though Lotte isn't sure how comfortable she is with the latter.

 

[The Laurent]

2:1

They left in the bright light of day, and it wasn't long before Naja began making comments. "So, Lotte, I saw that Frederick left your room this morning."

"No she did not," Karle said, with a smirk that was almost playful instead of cutting. "You wake up far too late for that, I believe. Instead, she heard it from gossip from the other members of our order. However, you should know, Lotte, that while gossip may follow you, your choices are quite clearly your own. I shall not judge you."

Lotte honestly doubted that, but she understood that Karle meant well. "We didn't… nothing happened." But that was a lie, and they must have been able to see it as she slithered along beside them. So she added something more true, thinking of what had happened and the strange dreams, almost like memories, that had come with sleep. So she added, hastily, "We didn't have sex."

"Then what happened?" Aisling asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We… cuddled, and then I went to sleep. He left in the morning," Lotte said.

"You know, I actually believe that." Aisling nodded to herself and then went back to scanning the far horizon.

"I don't know if I do. You should have seen him, whenever he showed up." Naja waved a hand grandly. "He had something for you."

"We kissed, but he might have left then," Lotte said, aware that she wasn't helping her case. She had somehow managed to keep the fact that it wasn't a curse secret, but that wasn't the same as something like this.

"Oh, who cares. If she fucked him, more power to him, and if she didn't it's fine. He didn't ask any deep secrets of you while you were snuggled up, right?" Pippa asked it as she threw her hands up in the air.

"No, not at all." He hadn't even asked. He'd known not to ask the kinds of questions that could have destroyed her.

"Then I don't get what the problem is."

"There's no problem," Naja insisted. "Just curiosity. You seem different."

"I'm not sure… I had strange dreams, and I feel a little different now. I could… I could see far better in the dark than I could the night before."

Naja and Karle exchanged glances. "Lotte," Karle said, clearly deciding to take the lead. "This seems as if it might be your soul settling some into place. With any change, the soul is first discomfited, and then it begins to settle until it is stable. Or at least, stable until any such curse or transformation is undone."

Naja nodded, and Lotte stared ahead, thinking about what that might mean. They continued onward, but Lotte was quiet for most of the day.

******

"Yes."

His face seemed to almost glow as he stepped closer. "Thank you, Lotte."

"Could you… could you not say my name," Lotte said, the sudden impulse gripping her tight and shaking her about. She was starting to suspect certain things that she'd been told repeatedly might not be entirely wrong. She wasn't sure, and she wanted as little uncertainty as she could get. She didn't want to worry or wonder tonight.

"I can do that," Frederick said. "I would do far more than that for you… handsome." He said it like someone taking a bowshot they were almost sure wouldn't hit, but they needed the meat before winter. (Lotte had taken many of those shots, and hit more than she should be able to on average. But she'd missed plenty, of course.)

Lotte flushed, aware that her every pleased emotion was shown on her face.

"So, uh. Here are all of these pillows and blankets. I can't really sleep in a bed, unless it's a big one." Bigger than she'd ever had before.

"That'll be just fine. What am I… what do you want me to do?"

"Hold me. You can… you can touch my lower half, but not, not close to anything. But I know you're curious, right? You have to be curious. It's weird and strange and new--"

"It's lovely, you're handsome, and I will make sure to do nothing more than what you request." He nodded, as if that solved everything, and said, "I assume you want to get to bed early?"

Lotte thought about what they'd be doing in between first and second sleep, and said, "Yes. We can… figure things out when we wake up again then."

Frederick smiled, and Lotte began to arrange the blankets. He stripped off his shirt, and Lotte didn't keep from staring. He wasn't muscular, and he was thin, but there was still something about his bare chest that sent Lotte's blush crawling for her hair. "I could go and get a night shirt, but I usually sleep naked." Despite saying that, he didn't remove his pants.

Lotte herself usually slept in clothes during the winter, and at most a thin cloth dress during the summer… and that only for modesty. She'd been sleeping in her clothes since she went on the road, but that was because there was always a chance to be attacked.

She took a breath, and said, "If you don't normally wear anything, you don't have to wear anything…"

She felt positively… something for saying that. But a part of her did want to see his…

Even if they were doing nothing at all. Which they weren't. She didn't want to imagine it doing things, but she still wanted to imagine it. Lotte barely understood herself on better days, let alone now.

"If you are fine with it…"

Lotte nodded, taking off her own shirt, and what little else there was. Frederick's eyes found her bare chest, and his smile was alight with carefully controlled desire. Lotte couldn't pretend she wasn't looking too as he slipped off his tunic, his undershirt, and then began to work down his hose. He had smooth legs, not entirely hairless but certainly looking as if they were cared for, in the manner of the rich. Lotte's, when she'd had legs, had been hairy, legs that she'd never once shaved. Which seemed better for cold days, anyways, out in the woods.

Then, his member was exposed. It was odd, because Lotte had seen cocks before, human ones even, since few enough men in the fields have any modesty to cover up when they're peeing. Frederick's cock should have seemed perfectly normal. It wasn't--objectively--an bigger or smaller than Lotte's vague understanding of the average, erect as it was. Nor was it particularly pretty, or covered in warts and foul looking hair, the way Lotte had heard one girl say about a boy whose marriage proposal didn't suit her. But it looked large enough, that close, and it was… it seemed large. And it was pointing at her.

She didn't know how to describe, or quantify, her feelings. It wasn't hot, mindless passion, but something slower and more simmering, and so she was able to tamp it down and lay down on the bed of blankets and pillows, and he snuggled up to her, not trying to do anything more, but apparently unwilling to turn away just because his desire was clear.

He reached down to stroke at her scales, and it was strange. She'd been able to slither over rock and grass and gravel as if she'd been wearing a boot, and yet his touch felt powerful. It was like those sorts of people with feet like boot leather, who nonetheless fell victim to tickling.

It was pleasant, and he said, almost absently, "Smooth."

Lotte nodded, and they huddled together in the warmth of the blankets, and she enjoyed his heat and presence. Even the lust felt muted, pleasantly warm rather than burning. She drifted off.

Her dreams were strange, a little like watching a tree for signs of movement, or walking on an endless road. She didn't quite remember them, but she remembered staring up at the sky, and seeing that it was night and there was still a sun, and she remembered staring at the moon that was in the sky as well, and--

She blinked awake, and saw that Frederick was headed for the door. But it was first waking, not the morning. "What?" she asked, baffled, as she rose up with a yawn, thinking about whether she wanted to pray or not.

"I needed to use the privy," Frederick said, and Lotte stared at him from behind. He'd grabbed a blanket to cover himself, but he was still exposed, his slim, delicate back, and well-shaped legs, and everything else…

She saw it far better than she should have been able to in the darkness, and knew at once that it had to be some sort of strange power, or characteristic of her new nature. "Oh, when we get back, do you… what Gods do you know?"

A true believer always wanted to hear about more Gods, and if Frederick truly knew many Knowledge Gods, she should learn them.

"Oh, I can tell you much about that. I've met so many Gods, and many of them to you. We could be here for a long time. Just let me hurry away, and I'll be back soon."

Lotte watched him go, and then lay there, feeling oddly contented. When he returned, he lay down next to her and stared up at her. His eyes caught hers and something passed across his features, something like awe.

"What is it?"

"Your eyes are beautiful. I almost can't look away," he said, and there was something about his voice that felt as if it was slightly distant, as if this wasn't simply poetical exaggeration. He did pull his eyes away, nodded to himself, and looked back again. This time Lotte could feel it. She wanted him to look into her eyes, wanted him to see her, only her, and not whatever else there was.

"Then don't. And tell me about… about Gods."

He didn't look away. When she blinked, he'd wait until her eyes opened and meet her gaze again, and so she didn't try not to blink, wasn't sure what to do with this trick.

"The strangest cult I've ever met must be the one that believes that the ocean, the one to the south, was made by a… worm, or a clam, or a sea urchin, or a giant fish… a God of some sort, that meant for it to be like a nest, with great leviathans deep in it waiting to hatch and wreak havoc. But as long as they are fed, the leviathans won't wake and the God will bless those who sail on its seas. Despite all that it will one day seek to do, they spoke of it as impossibly kind, but quickly wearying of how many it aided, who swore that were in its debt, and yet thought that its weakness was to be exploited. Or so their holy stories say." He spoke slowly, and yet with growing confidence. "They had a prayer I can't quite remember, it went… wait, I can remember it. Your eyes are something, really. It's like, with a part of me calm, the rest of me can grasp it better. But their prayer was, 'Oh Many Armed, Many Formed One--'"

Something in Lotte jumped, leapt out at her. This was a God's True Name, something powerful and real. "Oh."

"May your children always rest, may the debts be always paid, may the sea be merciful and your wives and daughters, sons and children, always happy. Take this offering, which I give into the sea, knowing that all things flow into you."

"Huh."

"It really is something. There's another God I think would interest you. Incu Malu, who despite his name is not one of the Sepult Gods of smithing."

Lotte assumed his name meant 'smith' or something like that. "What is he?"

"He's the God of grief. He's like the Nachtmater. She doesn't give great boons, but keeps darkness away from you, or so they say. He is the anvil which grief, anger, despair… loss beats against. A Sepult rages in his grief, calls Him a thousand cursed names, and still he forbears. Still he is the chest, they say, upon which anyone can cry. He will not hug, he will not wipe tears, but through Him you can reach the part where sorrow gutters for lack of fuel. He doesn't bring people back to life, but he can help their desire for death dwindle. A father rages in grief at a child whose life was cut short with just three short decades… but bit by bit he prays, and bit by bit he realizes there's still a world outside of his aching fists, beating against the Gods' anvil."

He said it slowly, and then added, "I've had times when Incu Malu helped me keep going."

"He sounds like a good God, though is he only for the Sepult?"

"Primarily, but it is said He sometimes listens to others. Do you want to hear another?"

Lotte sighed, already feeling sleepy. She had time for perhaps one more, and then they'd drift off. So they walked through it, staring at each other, until sleep came again.

******

Her eyes didn't go back to being better than they should be. She couldn't see in the dark as if it were day, but she could see well enough that hunting on even a moonless night in the forest might be possible. She wouldn't want to take the risks, since you want every advantage when taking a shot, but that should have been outside the realm of possibility entirely, without a lot of luck.

As they made their way north, Lotte began to pay more attention to how she hunted, the way she had when she'd been honing her skills before. She didn't yet have cause to try to track anyone, but what if she was chased? She figured out a few facts. First, you could always move slower. Second, there was a move of her tail that could actually clear out tracks in dust. It might still reveal that someone had been through, if someone knew to look at the thickness of dust on the ground… but someone who knew that probably could see a thousand unseen signs.

Moving unseen also involved taking risks and not taking risks. Lotte learned, during her hunts, the way that you had to avoid riling up the animals in the area. But this didn't just mean avoiding their notice. Sometimes it meant just going through the forest as if you belonged there. But there was something else. Sometimes her skin itched when she really didn't want to be seen, and she wasn't. It didn't make all that much sense, and she'd think she was imagining it, except… there were too many odd coincidences to imagine.

It was almost two days north before Naja finally said what Lotte had been distantly aware of. "We're going to be passing near your home village. I think, right?"

"Yes."

"So, do you want to… leave a message? Or even go yourself? Maybe we can figure out how to fix this, but if we don't…"

Lotte didn't know what to think, could tell that if she didn't say anything about it, if she kept on slithering down the road in front of them, nobody besides Naja would bring it up. The others were footsore, and they wouldn't complain about not going out of the way a little. But she also guessed that they wouldn't complain if we stopped for a while to let her talk to them. Or send one of them, probably Naja because of her noble bearing, to send a message of… what?

Mostly lies, no doubt.


What does Lotte do?

[] Move on. Her parents aren't likely to worry that they haven't heard anything from her, at least not yet. Perhaps they will later, but Lotte would rather put off any confrontation as long as possible, even if she now knows that they weren't aware that Lotte was actually a lamia, and a demigod. Or perhaps especially because of that.
[] Send Naja with a gold coin that Lotte earned, and stories of her deeds. It shouldn't be too hard to convince them that if Lotte could come, she would, but that she was desperately busy with an adventure and had tasked a friend and former employer to send along some of what she earned. They'd have to guess that she'd earned quite a lot, to have that much to send back home, and hopefully they'd be happy and have words for her in return.
[] Send Naja to fetch them out into the forest, to talk to Lotte. She… she doesn't have a reason to confront them any longer, but she needs to tell them… all sorts of things. But if this ends badly, it could destroy her hopes of having somewhere to go back to, and people who love her. There'd be no way to ease them into it, to send money on occasion or anything else to hope that when it comes out there would be more understanding.

*******

A/N: So, we begin a new adventure somewhat slowly. It will build up, as always.

 

[The Laurent]

2:2

Lotte knew these woods far too well. They had changed, but in ways that she had predicted. So she slithered through them, aware now that she'd have to be more careful how and where she moved. She had a longer 'train' than before, and that meant that she had to be more careful with how she moved. But she felt as if in some ways that only made her better at it. She'd learned and grown a lot, even in this small time. She hummed a little, imagining it in the deeper pitch that Aisling had taught her. They were beyond this forest, in the next town over. They wouldn't be there if this… went too wrong, but she knew her parents.

They loved her. They wouldn't run back to the village to gather a mob, even if they never wanted to see her again. If all their love was in a moment extinguished, like a weak flame, then that last flicker would still warm her, however briefly. This felt like… like cold comfort, of course. But they weren't like some parents in the village. They had chosen to have her, had chosen all that had come up to here.

So she slithered around, in a circle, unable to leave the area and yet unwilling to stay entirely in one place.

She just had to hope Naja could get them to go out of their way like that.

******
This was it. The village that Lotte had been born in, and at the outskirts, the home that held the people who had raised her. She'd knocked on the door, not sure whether anyone would be there, and the wife had gone for the husband, leaving her there. When they finally arrived, Naja considered them, and Naja… couldn't really see it.

They seemed like pleasant enough people, but the longing in Lotte's voice, and the stories she'd forced on them on the way here about her village had talked it up as being far more than a little nothing in the middle of nowhere. Her parents seemed like nice, reasonably prosperous farmers, and that was all.

This wasn't nothing. The house was well-kept, and they seemed to have plenty of land, but Naja still felt as if she'd prepared too much. Of course, they hadn't known she was coming, wherein she had bathed, and dressed in her best boots, tunic, everything needed to look like an adventurer.

'You look too boyish. What sort of woman would be attracted to that?' her father had snorted. 'Or boy for that matter.' He had been a great wanderer in his own youth, a man who'd been inside dozens of Sepult ruins, but old age had narrowed his mind, even as it had in its way sharpened it. He'd loved her, but hadn't much cared for her mother, and had loved Karle's father more than everyone else in the world combined.

"This must be about Lotte. You aren't any noble we've seen around here," Henrik said, with a very careful bow. The man did look a little like Lotte, in the sense only that he was larger than a man should be. Lotte sometimes didn't seem to realize just how imposing her height had been, and even for that height she seemed huge. Naja's envious, desire-riddled looks had come genuinely. "Though, Naja, that sounds familiar." He stroked his beard, which was one habit that Lotte couldn't pick up.

The man was Henrik, the woman Anelie, her plumpness proof of her husbands' success. Both of them showed what old age and success could bring, for all that Henrik looked like he could still shake the rafters. Naja could never imagine Lotte, even at her forties, softening like that. (It'd also look pretty silly with a snake lower body, honestly. But then, there were things about Lotte's new form that made Naja nervous in a way Karle--oh so cosmopolitan Karle--at least was able to hide.)

"Naja von Siebert. Perhaps you've heard of my father? Either way, I'm here because of your… child, Lotte." Naja had heard what Aisling had guessed about who Lotte was, but Naja still thought it more likely that it was just Aisling's bizarre ideas of masculinity and femininity. Would Aisling accuse her of being a man, next, just because she liked wearing big stomping boots and a dashing nobleman-style tunic? She wore it, and thus it was women's clothing.

But perhaps she was wrong with regards to Lotte and Aisling was right. It wouldn't be the first time that Aisling was right and she was wrong, nor the last.

"What about her?" Henrik asked. "Is she okay?" He leaned in, and Naja didn't know how to answer that.

"I… would say so. But it is a long story, and already Lotte has done great deeds, ones that have found their way into song and story. 'Lotte the lanky, kind and humble/ skilled hunter of the forest' is her moniker in a song about her deeds involving a martyr and theft at a Temple. She has met the Nachtmater twice, conversing with her as a hero might a God. I knew only rumors of the first time and the song when I set out to try to gain an advantage."

Henrik was gaping, and gestured to their table. "Please, sit down, and explain."

Naja sat at a chair, and said, "So you see, I have someone who is like a brother to me. An annoying brother I despise, but like a brother nonetheless, deny it though he will." Though Karle had been a lot more tolerable, this last week. He was still annoying, and clearly still hated her, but…

She didn't understand how he didn't grasp that if he accepted the connection, he wouldn't be 'like' a brother to her, but quite possibly better than one. If he merely pretended he was of a kind with his father, then her father would have all but handed everything to him, would have helped him into some careful noble match, would have… no, not cast her aside, but helped her into a marriage worthy of her station if that was what would be best for him. Instead, Naja was going to inherit the estates.

"His father was a very prosperous farmer, and loved by my father more than he loved any other man or woman. After his father's death, we grew up together, and both of us competed in everything, including the study of ancient ruins. When we heard of a group of heroes who had exposed a family whose line had won glory killing a holy martyr, and who were servants of a Forgotten God, we both decided that what better person to help us explore a Sepult ruin?"

"Our Lotte did that?" Anelie asked, sounding as if she was going to faint.

"It's a little complicated, but yes. So Karle and I went to her, and I hired her on a promise of a gold coin afterwards. What happened then is hard to explain, but she's still alive, and she's not crippled. In fact, we're on our way to… another adventure, and Karle is along as well." Naja coughed, not sure how she was supposed to say it. "She wanted you to have this." Naja took out a Holy Vanning, as they were called. Naja had decided that they deserved a larger gold coin than she had been planning on giving to Lotte.

(Best of all, if Lotte asked, Naja would be able to tell the absolute truth, that she'd given them a gold coin.)

"I… I've never seen one quite that large," Anelie said.

"I've never seen one at all. Anelie, where did you--"

"When I was adventuring, of course."

Naja looked at the woman. She was an ex-adventurer?

"We all split a gold coin in four, once, after a particularly dangerous mission. But it was a small coin, not like this. Do you know how much this is?"

"What you'd make in a few months, but all at once?" Naja guessed. She frowned. She didn't really know what things cost, at least beyond the fact that everyone knew innkeepers cheated adventurers of room costs all across the world.

Anelie was now looking at her as if she were stupid, as if she didn't know what she was saying.

"There's a reason people adventure to seek their fortune," Henrik said. "If Lotte has already made that much, I'm almost surprised she hasn't come back. The life you could make with just one of those coins…"

Naja frowned, and shrugged her shoulders. "Lotte wants to adventure. It's not about making a fortune, I don't think. But she has done well so far, for a new adventurer. She's certainly shown more good sense and bravery than I have."

"So, is that all you came here for?" Henrik asked, looking as if he was going to be deep in his cups tonight.

"No, Lotte wants to talk, but doesn't feel as if she can enter the village, things being as they are now. She asked me to lead you to her." Naja pointed to herself, trying her most cocksure grin. "So, I know you have a long day of… important work ahead of you." Naja tried to sound confident of that, but whatever they were doing couldn't be all that important compared to the revelations, and they were rich and could no doubt pay someone else to do their farm work and merely supervise, if they wished.

She was sure that would hurt their pride, and certainly their daughter, Lotte, was proud in a strange way that almost looked like humility. (Or was she humble in a way that almost looked like pride, as if the world and all its splendours, however beautiful, could not corrupt her straightforward honesty. Perhaps Naja was reading too much into Lotte, seeing too much, but at times she seemed almost to glow.)

They looked as if they'd heard her tone and didn't like it, but she continued. "But Lotte is waiting in the woods to talk to you. As I said. I'm going to lead you to her, if I can remember her directions. She acts like the woods is a road anyone knows."

"That does sound like her," Anelie muttered. "But you're wrong to think it isn't. Don't they still sing it? 'Everyone knows the road in their heart/ Everyone knows where the journey will start/ First one step/ Then the other.'"

Naja goggled at her, not having expected to hear an old drinking song for adventurers come out of the mouth of a mild-mannered wife, especially since she knew that the song went on to espouse the joys of the road, including not just adventure and new sights, but the favor of willing men and maidens. Perhaps she hadn't known those particular lyrics?

(Or perhaps Naja just didn't want to imagine the fact that one day she'd be old enough that young men and women would struggle to imagine how she had aroused such passions, or participate in them. She didn't like thinking of these things. She wanted to imagine herself young and adventuresome forever.)

"I-it is true that they sometimes sing that. So, are you going to come along with me? I'll… talk a little about what happened, on the way."

Henrik frowned, glanced at Anelie, and saw whatever he expected there because he nodded. "Of course."

Henrik brought a heavy stick with him, for safety from animals. They wandered the path, Naja stopping every so often to try to remember which way she'd gone. Okay, maybe she didn't have much of a sense of direction. But it was a fine day to walk, and she definitely wasn't hoping they didn't ask any questions about--

"What happened to her?" Anelie asked, not struggling at all to keep up, even when Naja increased the pace.

"We took her to a Sepult ruin, which turned out to be containing a… temple of some sort to Forgotten God, the God whose servants she had thwarted, if I'm following the implications of what's happened. She was captured, and something was done."

"Well? I can tell you're dragging the tale out." Henrik snorted, and she turned to look into his blue eyes.

"She was changed, transformed from a human into… not human. Her mind is still intact, and she seems no different from before except in body, but we've been looking for a cure."

"Not human?" Anelie asked, sharply. Oh, she realized that Naja was very careful not to say what. She had to guess that if the story was 'Lotte now had elf-ears and would live for centuries' then there wouldn't be quite as much awkwardness. It'd be odd, of course, but elves weren't killed, at least in the Central Lands, for being elves.

She was glad of that when she thought of Aisling, who somehow had become someone she didn't want to be without.

"Just this way, she should be… around here. Though, I suppose she would sli… ide off." From the look on Henrik and Anelie's faces when she turned to check, they'd noticed her awkward, last minute change of words.

Then they saw Lotte, in the distance.

Henrik and Anelie stared for a long moment, and then Henrik said, as Lotte turned and saw them, "Lotte?!"

"Oh, well, uh. I'm going to go, and I'll be back in an hour to make sure that nobody's heart's been broken and, er, all of that…"

Naja babbled these excuses as she fled. Perhaps she should have stayed to act as moral support, but she thought maybe this was something they should do themselves.

******

"Ma, Pa?" Lotte asked, dropping the singing voice she'd been practicing, and talking as if nothing had changed. "I'm… I'm glad Naja brought you."

"Do you think she wouldn't?" Henrik asked, his voice guarded, his body stiff. He looked like an animal trying to decide whether to pounce, or whether he should flee.

"I… I don't know. I know this is a lot to take in."

"It really is you," Anelie said, frowning as she got closer. "You look different, besides… that."

"Little things," Lotte said. "There's things she probably didn't tell you. The Forgotten God is some sort of snake God, but I've been lying to her." Lotte's heart ached, and she looked away as she slithered closer. "And the Nachtmater confirmed it."

"Confirmed what?" Henrik asked. "What do you mean? You talked to her?"

"Twice," Lotte said, quietly. "Once just a few days ago. I asked her whether you knew that this was going to happen."

"How would we know you were going to be transformed into a… into a… lamia." Henrik looked horrified.

Her mother, on the other hand, was still frowning, a little stunned but thinking.

"I'm… the Forgotten God said, and the Nachtmater confirmed, that I'm some form of… that it was the one who gave birth to me. Then the Nachtmater must have taken me and dropped me off at your doorstep."

"In the night," Anelie whispered. "I'd prayed so many times for a babe, for our sex at night to--really, Lotte?"

Lotte was blushing, and if she could see herself, she'd see someone whose face was as if she'd bitten into something rotten. "S-sorry."

"I'd prayed a lot, and then you arrived. And you claim you're a demigod? Lotte, this is interesting."

"Interesting? Anelie, what are you saying?"

"I've met Beastfolk before, even a lamia. They… not everything that's said about them is wrong. They're outsiders, and their Gods are evil, including this Forgotten God. But not all of them were terrible, and most just lived their lives, wrong as their faith is. Their Gods are the problem, not them." She spoke with such assurance, but Lotte wasn't sure.

"I don't know what the Forgotten God wants. They are aggrieved at what has been done to their people, but I don't know anything else. She didn't seem like she was going to force me to do anything, not yet. He was… strange and dangerous and I'm pretty sure I can't trust him. But I knew that, knew to expect it," Lotte babbled. "I was… I was so scared when the change first happened, but I don't think it can be undone."

"So you're lying to your friends?" Henrik asked, sounding like a desperate man scrambling in the dust for anything that made sense.

"I'm afraid. Of what they'd say, of what you'd say. I don't know anything about being a Demigod."

"I do," Anelie said. "I am not one, but I met one, for a while. Then we parted ways.. He was the son of a demigod. But it isn't math. You don't halve divine blood each generation, it decays more slowly, like noble families of Naja von Siebert's sort. His name was Zelig Noll, and from what I've heard he has a son, a famous adventurer. One thing I learned then was one of the hidden divine abilities."

"Really? You never told me of this," Henrik said.

"Because you would be jealous, dear. I don't ask you about Natasha, the wandering bard from the east. I had to get that story out of the neighbors, years ago."

She was saying that her and Noll had… or…

Ew.

Lotte didn't like thinking of it, and it was strange to imagine her parents pining after anyone but each other.

Henrik laughed, unexpectedly, and admitted, "You're right. I was, and I still am, just a little."

"He could always sense when there was a God nearby, or when another demigod was close, though the more powerful they were, he said, the more easily he could track them. So… if you've been wandering around, it's possible you could be followed, and it's possible you could follow others. I don't know that much else. You have powers, I assume. But if the Nachtmater is talking to you, then… I think there has to be a divine plan."

"Oh, yes there is. The plan of some bizarre God who is her parent." Henrik spoke slowly, as if trying to give Anelie a chance to change her mind.

"Never that," Lotte said, desperately. "You're my parents. They just gave birth to me. I don't know how that part of it works. I… are you still?"

"Your parents?" Henrik asked, sounding appalled. "Of course. You should… you should get away from this God, and stay here."

"Where, Henrik? Do we bring her into the village. Hope nobody notices she does not have legs anymore? She can't stay here."

"She could stay in the woods," Henrik said.

"Yes, because that's far less lonely than having people like Naja around her?" Anelie said.

"I'm not coming back, even if you agreed on that." Lotte wanted to make that very clear. "I said I wanted to be an adventurer, and that hasn't changed, despite everything else."

"Everything?" Henrik asked. "When it comes down to it, I'm worried about you, but you're still our daughter and I love you. So that's another thing that hasn't changed."

Well… Lotte hissed nervously, not sure what to say. She wasn't sure whether she was actually their daughter, either, but she had to admit that both of them standing there, reluctantly and uncertainly accepting all that had happened was better than she'd hoped.

Does Lotte talk about her… gender thoughts/feelings?

[] Yes. She trusts and loves her parents, even if this is clearly not the sort of thing they'd have experience in. And she might as well tell everything now. Perhaps saying it aloud to someone would help make it real, and help it all to make sense.
[] No. They're dealing with enough to try to understand about how she's changed. Plus, what if they think it's a mental change, or… something like that. Besides, Lotte really isn't sure of her own feelings, so perhaps talking now, when she doesn't know whether it's anything or not would be a mistake.

******

A/N: Confused, hesitant acceptance… with love. Far from the worst possible outcome thus far.