Chapter 158 - Chapter 134(2): A City's Finishing Touches

Eli POV

This time, the morning doorbell woke me with its dying chime. Stretching as I pushed unseen blankets, I took a second to wake up fully before making my way to the light switch by the door. This also allowed cold northern air to nip at any skin my underwear didn't cover. When my fingers felt the wooden panel, I closed my eyes in preparation. My eyelids informed me of the mana lamps turning on with a slight glow. I took a moment before opening them fully.

This mornings groggy waking inflicted a lethargy as I retrieved a grey shirt and brown pants from the wardrobe, the price paid for staying up so late. Sadly, the people responsible had already been punished, so I could only trudge forward from the bedroom to the hall, then to the dining room. I immediately made for the door on the right, folding the clothes under my bare left arm as I did so.

Opening it revealed the brunette and blonde maids bearing the usual wooden tub between themselves. Just behind them was Margret waiting with a smile now properly seen under the morning sun. She bore a basket with a top covered by white cloth threaded through her right arm as her left held onto a metal brazier sporting unlit coals resting around a smaller metal bucket of rocks. Her position placed her in front of the men carrying steaming water jugs.

"Lord Tilvor, if it wouldn't offend, I would like to make you my famed ham and cheese bread. It's a staple for our patrons and never has a complaint reached my ears." She offered with a bow, crinkling her plain blue dress. The change in her attire didn't extend to her black hair, which was still wrapped into a bun under the cloth cap at the back of her head.

I nodded, which the maids took as permission to shove past the door. It was more presumptive than usual. The way they rather carelessly dropped the tub in the center of the room was yet another disruption to routine. As the men dispensed their steaming cargo into the wooden bowl, the women waited off near the kitchen portion directly to the left. Impatience marred their faces in ways the maids never would dare before. When the men were half out the door, the blonde came up behind them. Her face was determined, which had some red showing up in her pronounced cheekbones.

"Don't come back." She commanded before pushing the last man out and slamming the door.

I raised an eyebrow, but the brunette on my left coughed before I could say anything.

"My lord, I believe you had a new craft. One that could summon vast amounts of water?" The brunette asked, her green eyes looking both eager and mischievous. A notion her smile above a stubby chin did nothing to counter.

"The stick in the right corner beside the stove, for when I need water and don't want to go out," I stated, raising my eyebrow to make it clear I wanted an explanation.

"The need is certainly great, I assure you." She cooed before making her way to the kitchen, defying all precedent by not giving what I was clearly asking for.

"Bath," The blonde commanded with a pointed finger to the steaming tub as she moved towards the dining table on the left side of the room.

I raised both eyebrows at such an egregious breach in command. Blue eyes gave me another mischievous look to go with a pleading lip. If I wasn't so ready for a warm bath, I might have fought them. Given my current state, I could only shrug as I placed the clothes on the floor beside the tub and stepped in. When the two maids noticed I intended to dip in still sporting underwear, they both gave me remarkably matching pursed lips that screamed 'really?'. I wasn't about to put on a show for them, and certainly not for another man's wife, so I plunged into the quarter-full bath.

Warm water reached barely above my hips, even as I lay flat. The brunette bit her lips in concentration as she fixed the white end of the four-foot-long stick directly at me before pressing a white square on its side. Heavy rain came directly at me, giving me only the briefest moment to close my eyes.

It took a good second of only having my head watered before I felt two pairs of hands run over my chest. The soapy massage, clearly foretold by the women's change in manners, looked to be fast approaching. Another second passed before the water hit my collar bone before stopping completely. I raised my arms to wipe my face, only to be stopped by small hands on both. Then came the distinct press of legs on my thighs and something softer than muscle on my arms. Even given our difference in dimensional origins, massages wouldn't involve such restraints.

I shook my head and opened my eyes to see the brunette maid on my left and the blonde on the right. Both were wearing less than I as they moved to rest their chins on my pecks while their arms tried to get mine out of the way of their bared chests. Taking a deep breath, I couldn't decide between irritation and praise for such boldness.

"Girls, I have said-"

"No," The blonde stated with a stern look and stuck out chin. "Today, you will have this. Confiscate our weeks pay, beat us, whatever. For this morning, you will take what we have to give."

I was so stunned at the impudence that I slacked my arms for a second. That was all the purchase they needed. In a flash, both worked themselves under each arm to press their busts against my sides.

"You'll be in my care, as well," Margret mused from the kitchen to the left. I looked over the tubs lisp to see her throwing some wood into the stove.

At the moment, my hands were below water and locked behind the maids butts, owing to their necks resting along the inner side of my armpits. This left me rather unable to stop the removal of my underwear, which was quickly thrown out of the bath to a loud plop onto the floor. The smell of cooking meats filled the air, which was slightly undone by the flowery soap the girls were now working into the bath water.

I gave a quiet thanks to God that I hadn't healed my member back into existence.

Wait….Why would I do that?

The conversation from last night returned like a lightning bolt. I had semi-remembered the radio stuff, but the return of my kelton wife had slipped due to its brevity.

Salamede.

My wife and future mother of my children. That luscious bosom and motherly hips, separated from my mouth and hands for too long. And all the pups she was going to give me. A buzz ran up my spine.

"See!" The blonde squealed in delight, lifting herself up to kiss my cheek with not a thought of what was being exposed in the rise. "You like it."

The brunette mirrored the motion, showering my neck in pecks.

Dammit!

I didn't have the cloth face covering. Lust had clearly bared its fangs, but I couldn't tell them its prey was in Crasden.

Now what?

This was going to be….one morning. Yes, I could risk the entire operation on some lie that might very well undo the entire web of deception I had made. Perhaps feed suspicion over my mental state by becoming aggressive over what no single man would normally refuse. Or I could lie down and be fed for an hour or so.

This also wasn't the Coalition. I didn't hate these women, or who they represented, so there was still a little corner in my male mind that buzzed at the womanly attention. Taking a deep breath that sent the two women resting their chins on my chest upward, I gave them both a carefully crafted look of defeat.

"Today only."

Smiles bloomed across their faces. Margret then handed down two glasses of wine, which the girls very quickly put to my mouth. Making sure none of the red liquid dripped out proved difficult, a task left largely out of my control by the women pressing their bottoms into my hands.

Once the glasses were emptied and set beside the tub, it became clear that feeding wasn't the only thing being offered. Soft hands went up and down my body, tracing bits of muscle that protruded above whatever fat this place hadn't worked off me. Judging by their intense faces, they were committing the contours of this fleshy land to memory.

The water started getting lukewarm after we ate some crackers and fruit. The blonde maid pressed her arms on my belly as she hoisted herself up, almost getting her chest above the waterline. At the last possible moment before impropriety reared its head, a cough came from the kitchen. I turned to see Margret abandoning her pot of cheese sauce to come near the tub.

"No, dear," The chef commanded, pulling up her blue dress to allow a power walk. "Stay in the important position. This is what I'm here for."

Margret set the brazier on the left side of the bath alight with a strike of flint, mingling its burning coal smell with the kitchens. After leaving to tend to the sauce for a minute, she returned with a rag to grab a metal handle in the middle of the brazier and pull out its smaller bucket filled with stones. A crack and hiss greeted the buckets' submersion between my lower legs. It was a bit hot near my lower half, yet the bucket barely raised the bath temperature a few degrees on the upper half. This process, repeated three more times, eventually saw the temperature even out to bring the entire bath to a steam again as I began to yearn for the comforts back at the base.

Heating the bath didn't slow down the coming breakfast. After a minute, the maids were dipping ham on bread into an herb laden cheese sauce before putting it into my mouth, in between sips of weak beer. Swallowing down an admittedly delicious bite, I decided to ask a lingering question.

"So, how do my maids know the wife of a tavern keeper near the docks?"

"Ah," The blonde purred with a smile above the dish she was balancing below my chin. "We've only just met. Margret came by earlier, insisting on providing you breakfast. When we found out the rumors going around the kitchen were more fact than idle fancy….Well, we felt we needed to show our own appreciation."

That last word prompted them to set the meal and drink upward, which footsteps from the dining table above me said Margret was retrieving. Once they were relieved of their burden, the two women moved away from beneath my arms to meet me at eye level.

"Is it true? You really did kill a mage for attacking a peasant girl?" The brunette on my left asked, pleading green eyes on full display.

"Not a mage. Six. Though the last five were more technically mages than officially."

They didn't respond to the last bit. Instead, the brunette kissed my lips with a sweet sting, something the blonde interrupted after a second by pushing her away. Brown furrowed eyebrows promised a fight, but her companion only took her place on my lips for a moment before pulling back. The faintest flicker of a writhing mass of bodies presented itself, courtesy of unplaced memories from the AI chips, before I returned to reality and found both women had once again pressed my arms to the side of the tub with their bottoms, leaving me to the mercy of their pecks along my neck and cheeks.

'Thank yous' were repeated between kisses. To emphasize the moment, they took the time to rub my lower body and thighs. I had no doubt that, were the equipment available, they would be making themselves mothers right now. Something a frustrated look downward by the brunette confirmed.

This continued for a few more seconds until the blonde stopped, sucking in her lips with a look of guilt. Gulping down some spit, she placed a hand on my chest to accompany a hopeful look.

"Do the rooms in the castle…. The ones made for one person, could they have another resident stay with the main one? One about twelve winters or so?"

Feeling my tenuous understanding of her request slip at the end, I was tempted to ask why she would need such permission. Then I considered what people not asking such things could allow and decided to simply answer.

"Yes. Though it might be a bit cramped."

Three huffs filled the room.

"Cramped?!" The brunette scoffed, "These….apartments have more to give than even the oceanfront tavern rooms. I could fit my parents and three siblings and have a bit more space than back home."

A smile forced itself on my face without any resistance. What could I say? People waxing on about my creations tickled my builder's pride, bypassing the normal filters even naked bodies couldn't circumvent. Far from being irritated at the interruption, the blonde was too busy staring into the water to notice. When she looked up, her blue eyes had faint hope.

"I have a younger sister. She's twelve, as I said. Helps with doing dishes in the mage district. The old one, before they turned the whole thing into a mage's playpen. She's also had the misfortune of attracting the eye of an older mage. Nothing has been said verbally, but the way he looks at her is most distressing. If she were brought to live here, would she enjoy protection?"

I raised an eyebrow appropriately high at such a scandal but made sure to nod.

"As much as I can provide. That doesn't mean I can extend that into Crasden or provide it when I'm not here. I'll be honest, the guards are not as reliable as I had hoped. Maybe with some time, they'll act properly."

It was a huff from Margret that drew all of us towards the back of the tub. Seeing our questioning gazes, she abandoned the table and walked over to us. Then she got on her knees close to the wooden bowl and wrapped her arms around my neck, with not a care for the water seeping into her elbows.

"They bared swords to mages. That showed as much bravery as any man could be asked to."

Perhaps I was being a bit too harsh. Nothing they had done merited such forgiveness in my eyes, but the mother of the wronged girl pleading their case was too significant to ignore. Having a better feeling for why the blonde wanted this soapy rendezvous, that did suggest the brunette wanted something, even if she didn't give any indication of such. I turned my head left towards the woman in question, currently resting her stubby chin on my upper peck. Her green eyes looked confused, and her puckered lips made it clear I would have to ask outright.

"And what favor are you here to ask of me?"

Brown eyebrows raised in confusion for a second before she bobbed her head back and forth.

"The favor was performed last night, Lord."

With that, she lay her head down at my collarbone before relaxing into my side.

"I had a nephew who was killed by a mage some years back. Something about blocking her way in traffic. I suppose….I want to thank you. Even if this mage wasn't the one who killed him, it's….You've done a wonderful thing, Lord Tilvor. I just want you to know it."

My first response was a raised eyebrow of my own.

"Are such stories so common that three random people meeting would have them?"

The trio of scoffs that greeted the question provided enough of an answer, which didn't deter the women from explaining.

"Common?" The blonde huffed over my peck as she settled her head onto my collarbone. "Everyone has such a story. Either in person or from word of an ill-fated cousin or some such."

"Everyone," Margret agreed somewhere above my head.

"Well," The brunette cut in with a hopeful look in her green eyes. "I suppose we've got a story no other city does."

She got another kiss on my left cheek in, which the blonde mirrored on her side. After she finished, a black fleck of hair pricked my nose, making me look up. I saw Margret smile before landing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"Ah!" The blonde gasped in mock horror as the cook pulled back up. I turned down to see her mouth open in playful scandal. "You wanton slut!"

She finished the performance with a weak slap at the unseen woman above.

"Pff!" Margret huffed. "You girls are going to be quite vulnerable when you get out of there. I've never held a sword or spear, but a wet towel can be as mean a weapon as any in my hands."

The blonde backed down, settling beneath my arms again with a wary look.

"I don't know," The brunette mused with a wicked grin. "Perhaps such a show would be to the lord's taste?"

A chorus of amused hums greeted the question along with teasing looks from the two women and one from their conspirator. Feeling quite aggrieved at such slander, I locked the girls against my chest with my arms. Raising their eyebrows was all they got to do before I suddenly pulled them into the water. I managed to keep my head above the waterline, treating my ears to the girl's frantic splashes, which barely registered above the explosive laughter above. I spared a quick glance at Margret, which only revealed the flailing feet of the woman on the floor.

After a second, I allowed the maid's air. The reward for such generosity was their spitting of water at me and playful slaps. Try as they might, rueful smiles and gleaming eyes undid any anger they were trying to convey in their attempt to push my head down. It took a few seconds of failing to overcome the difference in strength for them to give up and content themselves with rubbing me down using soapy sponges.

As things wrapped up, my internal clock said the entire program took considerably longer than the usual solo experience. Fussing with towels to make sure I didn't accidentally give the women too much of a show added a minute or two on top of the already increased price. Yet as I stood by the table in a fresh change of a grey shirt and brown pants, waving goodbye to the trio bearing the tub between them as they went through the main door, I felt a fair bit cleaner than I usually did. Making a mental note to build a craft capable of washing hard-to-reach corners of my body, I remembered another important detail just as the door was beginning to close.

"Oh!" I called, making Margret stop with an expectant look at the door. "Tell the guards I'll be inside for a while."

She nodded, gave me one last bow, then closed the door. The day had started late, but it had to start all the same. I first went to the bathroom to use healing magic and my own innate mana generation to restore my manhood. When that was finished, I went about the day's main task.

Orios may or may not have had relations who would be rather irked at his unseemly demise. I seriously doubt he was anyone of significance, considering he had such a small retinue and was using magic to impress peasants. True or not, it gave me the perfect excuse.

For hours, I sat in my workshop crafting a set of wooden armor. It would look ridiculous to any passerby not familiar with the strength my magic crafts gave such wood. But whatever it looked like, it would protect me from a stray arrow. And keep my face hidden.

As native as I had been going, walking around bare-faced was still a hard ask of my social sense. Winter let me keep the face covering on for some excuse of retaining warmth. I had been worried about what I would be forced to endure after things became warm enough that such an excuse wouldn't hold. Now? Who would question why I insisted on wearing armor whenever I went outside? Between this and possible Mist Pirate agents, I was set for life on excuses to keep covered up.

About an hour or so past midday, I walked out over my home's drawbridge in full brown plate armor and a helmet that only obstructed the farthest corners of my vision, something the usual group of guards nodded at in understanding before taking up the usual positions around me. I got about past the guard post on the left and managed an entire step forward before stopping.

By the huge bridge directly ahead was a carriage of blue wood and gold inlay around the edges. I couldn't immediately recall what the government carriage of Crasden looked like, but it belonging to Ashe was clear enough from the purple-clothed man in a metal lion helmet beside the driver if the color scheme wasn't already enough. Feeling a ball of dread drop into my stomach, I decided to walk forward. The usual traffic moved around the obstruction, most only sparing a glance at the gaudy wood box before getting on with their day.

The driver noticed me and then pointed in my direction. That metal lion head nodded before the guard got down and opened the carriage door. Bracing myself for some fresh hell from Crasden, I felt relief flood my body when a familiar pair of ivory horns jutted up above the door. Then a version of Salamede came out into the northern air.

This one had black fur and a plush white dress with a furry collar that almost brushed her smooth cheekbones below white eyes. Everything else was the same: the motherly breasts that promised a feast for our children, the babe-bearing hips, and the smooth lips that demanded a tasting. They were all as I had remembered them.

Blood suffused my skin to beat back chill air, following the shake running up my spine. The woman had taken only two steps towards me, and I already felt my barely hours-old stem threatening to press itself against both armor and decorum. A testament to both healing magic and the succulent prospect she brought with her. Something I had clearly gone too long without. Beside her were two kelton guards clad in steel, though I barely registered their existence.

Salamede was a bit more self-controlled, though I knew the bit lip and flared nostrils meant her feelings matched mine. When she was but a dozen feet away, a mass of brown moved from the right towards the space between us. It took a second before I placed it as a young girl no taller than my chest.

"Lord mage!" The girl squealed in delight, her brown dress matching her hair shifting with the sudden stop. She sported a full smile below a face of freckles. Her green eyes were fixed on me, so much so that she got within arm's length before noticing the kelton woman who had clearly been approaching. Stopping dead, she looked between us with wide eyes and sweat that began forming at her brow. Her identity revealed itself in the two people coming up behind her.

Margret and her husband jogged towards us, their face's pale and Margret having an outstretched hand aimed at her daughter's left shoulder. Having identified her, I choked down the irritated sigh coming up my throat. When Salamede swept her hand towards the girl to gesture that she continue, the two adults stopped. Red splotched the girl's face, but she gave Salamede a slight bow before turning back to me.

"Lord Tilvor….I just wanted to say…."

Dear God, girl! Please! I'm so close to tasting heaven.

She was staring down at her shoes, not noticing any impatience that may have slipped past my face guard. Finally, the girl rushed forward and wrapped her arms around my chest, which was as high as she could comfortably reach.

"Thank you. From the bottom of my heart and soul, thank you."

I couldn't properly see her with the armor in the way, but the head of brown hair was displayed prominently enough that I could rest a reassuring hand on it.

"And what has Lord Tilvor done to merit such adoration?" Salamede's rough voice cut in, her eyebrows raised in mild amusement.

The girl pulled back to treat my wife to an askance look. Her face held such unbridled anger and incredulity that a rude comment seemed imminent. Margret, divining the same future I did, clasped her child's mouth with her hand before she could set off an international incident.

"Aside from the obvious wonders around us," Margret offered with a warm smile, pushing her child back as she did so. "He personally killed several mages who gravely wronged my daughter. Killing mages for the sake of peasants is simply unheard of in human lands. A debt we'll carry to the end of our days."

Salamede nodded before turning to me with a faint smile.

"If expressing such gratitude demands his time, perhaps our meeting can occur another day."

A feral scream filled my head. When it seemed like it might reach my tongue, Margret coughed.

"We would never impose," She said before moving both her daughter and husband further back. They didn't know who Salamede was or her power, but her dress and method of transportation marked her as a class above theirs.

With a nod to the family, Salamede moved closer to me, giving the house I had just come from an expectant look.

"Well, lads, it seems the world is going to demand I stay in today," I commented to the guards before turning around.

The girl pulled out of her mother's hand and then charged into my side with another hug. It took a second before she was satisfied and ran back to her parents. Salamede gave the retreating trio a small smile before walking beside me with her own retinue. My red-leathered guards seemed a bit dubious about letting her get so close, but no objection reached the air. As we turned at the guard post, an electric buzz hit my shoulder.

'Quite an active lord in your subjects' lives, aren't you?' Salamede teased.

'The law is the law. I'll have to kill a lot more people later if I don't cull the more pernicious weeds now. I'm sure you've had to get down in the dirt.'

A snort filled my head as we crossed the drawbridge.

'More than I ever intended to.'

I gave her a raised eyebrow as I pulled the door open. She went in with a courteous nod. As I followed her, I pulled the door close behind me. The instant wood smacked on stone, she swung around. My mouth opened with some smart quip about indecent intentions. The joke would go forever unfulfilled with her sudden shove into my face. Unsteady hands helped work off the wooden helmet before the unneeded piece was unceremoniously toosed to the ground.

Our lips didn't quite line up on the first go, but a quick readjustment found our tongues shoving against each other. It was hard walking and kissing, particularly with the added motions of untying knots. After a minute, we were in the bedroom. Salamede pulled back to put the previously unseen flesh harp she had tucked away under her right arm on the wardrobe.

Instead of resuming our oral activity, she reached behind and finished undoing her dress. White cloth fell slightly down to reveal grey skin, then two mounds of heavenly pillows. Just seeing their brown, marshmallow tips sent a shiver down my spine. She then moved to help undo the lower bits of my wood armor. After seconds of seeing her swaying breasts without tasting them and the armor still fussing with its exit, I yanked the pants portion down just enough to expose the stem yearning for freedom. Grasping her head with my right arm and a breast with my left, I kissed her as I forced her over to the bed. No more smart comments, questions about our domains, or polite conversation was left in her eyes or my mind.

Time both stopped and moved faster than light. I couldn't say how many minutes or hours passed as we abused the bed and stars exploded in my skull. However long it took, our sweaty bodies soon rested on the blanket. Salamede lounged on my left side, oddly enough, in the same manner the brunette had just this morning. Her head went up and down with both our labored breathings, which did nothing to stop her from meeting my gaze.

'Now, what was the girl talking about?' Salamede mused in my skull through an electric buzz along my left peck.

"Pff!" I scoffed. Then a chuckle came up my throat, something I failed to keep down despite my best efforts. It would be generous to say my brain was running at even half speed, between the night's labor and this midday session. Mentally preparing for a nasty trip through memory, I ordered the last day or so's events in my mind, then relayed them. Thankfully, she didn't get upset when I described the maid's intrusion into my bath.

'Then I made that armor that gave us so much trouble. A test run out into the city was next on the agenda, but that was obviously cut short.' I finished with a hopeful smile.

Salamede had since steadied her breathing, which made the deep sigh she gave all the more noticeable, for that and the way it rubbed her nipples into my side.

'And the mother, this Margret, didn't offer you the use of her womb in compensation?' She demanded, sounding rather offended.

It's amazing how certain circumstances and words can form the same disorienting effect as flash bangs. I spent a good second making sure I had heard her right. Yeah, different species, different societies. Hell, different dimensions.

Still.

'I believe the cause of my infertility is widely known. Aside from the fact that she already has a husband.' I put in mildly.

Rather than calm her, Salamede's snout flared in irritation and her white eyes narrowed. She finished the display by working herself out from under my arm to lie on top of me, complete with a hypnotic swing of those heavenly pillows before she pressed them down on my chest. It spoke to the level of her anger that she managed to keep my gaze mostly upward on her irritated features.

'He should be grateful his wife would have such good sense as to at least make the offer. You're the one who had to save his daughter. You saved all their lives, twice over at least. And how many women have they compensated you with? So many worthless men in this world get so much from us, yet they've allowed a man of your ability to go without. What is our gender's purpose if not to make sure men like you are supplied with reward?'

Male intuition said the conversation we were having wasn't the same one happening in her head. I gave her a soft smile as my hands cupped her bum with a light squeeze. An adorable moan escaped her lips, pushing away the anger that had almost formed a snarl on them.

'Where is this bitterness with your fellows coming from?' I asked sweetly, emphasizing the point with another squeeze of her butt.

Salamede puckered her lips for a second, clearly trying not to display how good my plying hands felt. I went on for a second before ceasing the motions, raising an expectant eyebrow as I did so. A small huff from her snout blew across my chest before she rested her chin a few inches below mine.

'It's the clans. They….Well, it's a long history. For now, my dead clan had a relatively friendly relationship in the past. I spent a day or two at their main settlement, going over a harbor expansion our stone magic might make for them in exchange for other items.

The man responsible for the dock was a portly fellow. Gotten fat on dockworkers' sweat and silver handed off under the table. I was content to ignore the lout during our conversation until it was mentioned in passing that he has three wives. Each having given him at least two children.

Him! That waste of air, blood, and food. That he should have more pups to his line than you, who has already done so much. Achieved so much and going on to do so much more. It….Ugh!'

She finished the tirade by squeezing me in a hug. Judging from its intensity, it was probably more reflex than deliberate decision.

'Oh? And how many wives should someone of my ability have?' I mused, trying to not sound entertained, if not a bit relieved. Ever since the swamps, Salamede never pressed or teased me on the issue, until now. It felt like things were finally settling back into our weird version of normal.

"Dozens," She confidently announced, raising her chin as if daring me to object. "Every morning should see at least six or seven sirings. Maybe two or three more throughout the day. After dinner, you should be seeding as much as your body will allow until sleep comes, at which point we would clean you, wrap you up in both blanket and our bodies, then repeat come sunrise. And each of those women should have hearts bursting in gratitude that they got the chance to bear a silver-haired child."

A weird normal, indeed.

'It sounds like you're trying to get me killed, either through a heart attack or a wife's blade thrust in jealousy.' I said with as little teasing as I could manage.

Salamede still evidently picked up a bit, because she took my lips with that sweet taste before pulling back down to rest on my chest with a sultry look.

'Why would there be jealousy? We would all have the same man.'

This time, I felt a pang of worry. Hypocrite that I am, it didn't escape my knowledge of history that harems were often fraught with peril, the bible being a rather expansive reading on such things. It didn't stop me, obviously, but there was the argument that my wives weren't human and that probably meant certain dynamics didn't hold as they had in my dimension. Something about how she asked that question, however, came across as naive.

'Salamede, how many wives did your father have?'

Her lips puckered in thought for a moment before she nodded.

'It was just mom, as far as I'm aware.'

'Um,' I dumbly sent through the spirit connection before ordering my thoughts. 'The other keltons….How often did you hear of their internal affairs?'

Seeming a bit confused, Salamede furrowed her eyebrows before taking a deep breath.

'Just bits here and there. I was mostly too busy trying to survive and pay for my worthless husband to attend parties or talk at length about others' houses.'

I kept my face as passive as I could. It appears Salamede may not be as informed on what having multiple co-wives entails as I thought. Gula, being a species of only women, had clear biological preferences for sharing a man. Keltons….Might?

Maybe I shouldn't doubt my wife so easily. She's in her upper twenties or early thirties; I never really paid her age as much attention as I did her beauty. Reaching back into untold eons, I pulled out memories of my first natural bodies twenties. Back to the age range where the human mind could still hold its memory before reaching its limits.

I knew that I liked to build at that age. That and I had a rather nasty problem with various substances. I also knew what I liked from my relationships. Surely, Salamede would have figured such things out by now as well.

From the dark recesses of my mind, a nasty voice slithered in.

What does it matter, Eli? Genetic differences and cultural norms? You got the excuse you needed to bring Gula into your bed with Salamede. The rest was just a formality to that end.

Summoning every ounce of mental and emotional strength I had, I banished the voice to oblivion. This finished just in time to register the long stroke of Salamede's chest against mine. Her lips were in a teasing smile.

'It sounds like you were getting some practice for a similar output this morning. Did they really wait for the day of my arrival to make the offer?'

A smile forced itself on my mouth. Taking another helping of her bottom with my hands, I tasted her lips for a second before pulling back.

'It was the most recent of many offers. Before, they would simply mention the proposition, then take the rejection. This was the first time they were insistent enough to relieve themselves of their clothing before demanding it. The girls even said I could take their pay or hit them after the bath. Then a bit of miscommunication basically sealed my fate. I suppose I'm a bit cleaner than normal, so it wasn't a complete waste of working hours.'

'Miscommunication?' Salamede asked with a raised black eyebrow.

'When they had me pinned in the tub, I was suddenly grateful I hadn't healed my loins that morning. Then I wondered why I would have healed them, which brought back the memory of our coming meeting. It showed on my face, and they mistook future pleasure for current anticipation. At that point, it would be more trouble than it was worth to explain.'

Her lips curled in amusement even as her head dipped forward with eyebrows raised in disbelief.

'You were in a hot bath with a naked woman on each side, and the first twinge of desire you got was the thought of me?' She demanded, sounding both skeptical and hopeful.

I bounced my head back and forth, reliving the event in my head until I got to the farewell.

'The first and the last.' Was I all I could think to say.

Salamede stared at me for a second, her lips puckering in concentration. After a second, she leaned up, baring her vista of motherly goodness as she did so, then readjusted herself to line our loins up.

'Ready for more wifely duties?' I teased.

'I already performed them," She sternly informed me. Her statement didn't quite match the way she slid herself back up to my lips. The kiss had more force than the previous ones, though it ended almost instantly. 'This is for me. Now, get ready to carry through on your husbandly duties. I will allow no slack nor give any mercy.'

Upholding my portion of our sacred marriage bond went on for another hour or so.

Regrettably, the rest of the world insisted on existing, leaving us to eventually don our clothes and meet by the main door, me on the left of the door as she stood in front of it. We moved to take each other in a final hug. I didn't even get to feel her chest on mine one last time before one of her harp's furry outer points introduced itself to my chest.

'Oh! Sorry.' Salamede said in the spirit connection as she pulled her tool familiar back. Then her white eyes scanned the room. "Where's Cell? I'm ashamed to say I forgot about him."

'Out enjoying his last bits of freedom. He's going to be Gula's protective jewelry for God only knows how long, and she's probably not going to have such easy means for him to prance in the woods. She'll be by tonight or tomorrow.'

A small smile came over her face.

'I had wished to see my sister wife. Fate seems to have had other plans.' She said, regret coming clear through.

'She has to go through a priest's office to get here. Seeing as you are not supposed to know of my relation with the green women, I don't think you'll be able to meet up at my house without drawing suspicion from our underground compatriots.'

'I guess we'll have to meet on the sea.' Salamede mused, seemingly to both herself and me.

'Or the air,' I offered.

She nodded before taking me in another hug, this time sparing my ribs from her flesh harp's tip. We stood enmeshed for a second, absorbing each other with all our senses before reluctantly pulling apart. I opened the door for her, smiling in a way that wasn't too intimate for those watching across the bridge. Salamede gave me one last nod before walking out over the drawbridge.

The sky had the oranges of late afternoon, colors that now played across Salamede's white dress. I walked to the right pillar to place a hand above the wooden panel responsible for activating the enchantments that would pull up the bridge. My eyes were made level and kept from actively scouring the body of my retreating wife, save for some viewing out of the corners of my vision. After a few seconds, the wonderful sight came to a regrettable end when she was finally on the other side. With a heavy heart, I pushed the panel. Salamede treated me to one last polite wave before joining her kelton guards to the left.

When the drawbridge was fully up, I went back inside. Feeling delightfully sore, I set about donning a leather coat to brace against the north's lingering chill before preparing a light beer from a cabinet left of the stove. An unopened specimen was resting in a corner, waiting for the day when I would want refreshment without having to wait for the maids. Its time was now.

Sitting under the glow of a mana lamp at the dining room table to the left of the hallway door, I allowed my body its time to bask. Male ego wanted to savor triumph before the drudgery resumed and I allowed it some time to soak. After allowing my lizard brain a few minutes to finish enjoying the buzz of genetic success, I slurped down the last drop of ale before getting back to work.

The first task was picking up the discarded bits of armor before moving on to the bed. Playing the maid was unavoidable, unless I wanted to explain stains I shouldn't have been able to produce. Plying the blankets and pillows with soap and magic water felt like a longer task than it probably was. Once that was finished, I laid the bits of wet cloth on the mattress. I then prepared to suck in the mana for a water spell to pull the liquid out, forming an 'O' shape with my lips.

*Ping*

A growl escaped my open mouth. It was only the tiny chance that Salamede came back for another bout that kept my blood pressure out of the danger zone. Moving to the open bedroom door, I stepped out into the hallway.

*Ping*

The dying chime made my eyebrows furrow. Not Salamede. Who would be so presumptuous as to dare ring a second time? Almost jogging out into the kitchen, I moved to the main door, preparing spells of rock shards and donning the wooden helmet. Giving the door the slightest crack open, I immediately recognized the figure of gold and red hair.

Ashe stood in a gold dress sporting a fur collar at my doorstep, her puckered lips a deep blue that matched her painted fingernails. The small nose twitched between pronounced cheekbones where bits of her long red hair played across porcelain skin. When her green eyes saw me peeking out, she gave me an expectant smile. The governor of Crasden almost got a choice curse for her troubles, but I managed to keep my irritation to a rather forceful pull on the door.

"Lady Ashe," I offered with a small smile.

She nodded before inviting herself in, along with two of the lion-headed guards.

"I know you're busy, but there are two items we need to talk about. One I want to discuss between just the two of us." Ashe finished with a pointed look at the dining table.

"Who is this 'we' besides us two?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The representatives of the Mountain Top and Growers' associations."

Taking a deep breath, I waved to the table as politely as I could manage. Ashe gave a slight nod before walking forward.

"I'll be there in a minute," I said as I moved towards the hallway door.

"Oh?"

Ashe looked at me, her dress's collar of white fur hiding her neck.

"This bit will be but a few words. One's that need speaking before the other guests arrive."

Gulping down some spit, I nodded before making my way to the table. These pants were quite baggy, not that I was so generously endowed that I needed to worry about showing the goods. Of course, there would be much bigger problems than impolite stares if she should notice certain protrusions from my clothes.

Wrapping the coat to both prepare for a long sit and to hide my front, I sat down in the chair towards the kitchen while one of Ashe's guards pulled back the seat opposite me. She raised a red eyebrow at me. Then I realized the helmet was still on. Taking it off, I reluctantly bared my face and placed the wooden piece on the table in front of me. Once we were all settled, as much as I could be showing so much to a woman I barely knew, I opened my right hand in open invitation to start.

"Lady Passmede has been by here several times." She stated with a controlled face. "Prying into a scion's business is a perilous thing. Of course, one business can affect another. I might have thought she was using healing magic to help undo aging, either in spell or craft, but this city hasn't had its mana drained dry.

That does leave one other strong possibility. I will have you know that House Kraton has certain interests when it comes to the sales of healing crafts."

She finished with an expectant look that stopped just short of demanding an answer.

The truth obviously wasn't going to be offered up. This had been an issue long anticipated and, fortunately, Salamede was from an exotic land and a barely known people. These facts, when combined with her abilities, lent a mystical air about the Kelton mage. Something that now provided a good lie.

"Her people carry unusual medicines. She has said there might be a cure for my condition among her or other tribes' practices with herbs and magic."

Ashe's green eyes blankly stared at me, her form still as a statue. Then a smile spread across her blue lips, sending her eyes rolling with that special weight only a woman could manage.

"What-"

She threw her hands up in surrender as she stared at the ceiling, the usual facade of regal control cracking wide open.

"What was I expecting? Of course, it would be that. Why wouldn't it be? The entire world revolves around that pound of flesh."

"I'd like to think it would be more than a pound." I offered with a straight face.

Ashe shook her head as she looked at me with jade eyes brimming in amusement.

"I got my answer, even if I should have known it from the start."

I nodded before getting up.

"Good, then I can attend to my business in the bathroom."

The inspection her gaze performed on my loins was thankfully blocked by the leather coat, if the pants didn't suffice. Not that the blink she took to see allowed her much time to parse. I ignored the rudeness and made my way to the hallway door, a trip that was unmolested by further conversation.

A bit of healing magic, water blades, and fire magic, alongside some air bubbles to smother any potential noise, saw the well-used stem and balls turn to black flecks falling through the toilet without alerting any of my guests. When I came back, it was still Ashe and her guards waiting. As I took up the chair opposite her towards the kitchen, a cough came up her throat just as near freezing wood welcomed my now lighter bottom half.

"I heard a rumor about those bodies I saw on the way over here. Is it true they were mages killed for maligning a peasant girl?"

I puckered my lips at her, feeling the cold air on my bared face.

"I can have the paper stating these are my lands fetched, if you want to waste the time," I stated, defiantly staring her down.

Rather than being offended, blue lips curled into a satisfied smile, her small nose flaring with a snort as she did so.

"If you want to make your city a pariah among all of our kind, I suppose my domain will have to become the center for all magical business in these lands. A burden I will carry with a strong chin and determined spirit."

Greed, it seems, was stronger than her mage's pride. I gave her a slight nod before retreating to the waiting list of this week's needed items. After a few minutes, the new representative for the Growers association came in with a knock.

She had the deep tan her predecessor sported, though the upper corners of her face were lighter thanks to her hood. The gaudy green robe with gold leaf embroidery similarly matched Percy's. Her smooth cheekbones remained untouched by the slight smile above her sharp chin. Those grey eyes peeking out past strands of black hair, however, held a particular disdain. Without a word, she took the seat on my left.

Not less than a minute passed before the fourth and final member of the meeting came through the door. She was a brawny woman sporting the gold outline of a mountain peak on her leather top's chest, which her long brown hair didn't cover. Despite not sharing her predecessors' folical failings and the array of jewels playing at stars above the gold mountain speaking of wealth, her demeanor still had that brutish aspect I had picked up from Percy's long dead conspirator. An impression the crude huff above a strong chin and distinct lack of intelligence in her green eyes only furthered.

"Ah, good,' Ashe mused, her left hand open in offering the chair on my right. The newcomer took it and slid up to the table. As if on cue, the other three then turned to me at the same time.

"Tilvor, a situation has come up." Ashe offered, her shoulders straight and green eyes looking serious. "One involving the crafts the Mountain Top and Growers were supposed to give you."

Here it is.

I looked between the two newcomers, sporting an appropriately irritated smile. Taking a deep breath, I put the wooden helmet in my lap and took the first step of this dance.

"I suppose waiting until they were no longer needed was an option I unwittingly left Percy," I grumbled, strumming my fingers on the table as I took another deep breath. "As useless as they are now, I will still be taking those crafts, if for no other reason than the sheer petty pleasure of burning them in my stove."

While the Grower representative on the left took a deep breath to control herself, her companion released air through her nose like an enraged animal.

"They were-" Ashe struggled for a second before sighing. After gathering herself, she looked me in the eyes. "They were made."

Raising my eyebrows, I leaned to the left, taking in the hallway door for a second before returning to my position.

"Strange. My store room is missing the…. I can't remember how much we agreed on. Was it fifty or a hundred? Every conversation involving the associations is so useless I can't seem to keep them in my skull."

I didn't pay the other two any attention as the healing mage took a deep breath in the same manner one had in preparing for a blow. Her green eyes met mine again, this time seeming more resigned than anything.

"The crafts were lost. And we know where they went."

A moment of awkward silence seeped in. Looking between her two companions, it was apparent they were going to go down the coward's path to the very end. Turning back to Ashe, I leaned forward, opening my palm for her to continue. When no words came out, I gave her an irritated sigh.

"And will you deign to enlighten me as to-"

"The orcs." The Grower representative squeaked out from the left.

I snapped to her, bewildered at such a horrifying statement.

"The orcs," I repeated numbly. When I looked around the table and saw no one objecting, I put both my hands on the wooden helmet resting in my lap. For a small eternity, I sat there, strumming my fingers on the brown armor.

"How-" I appropriately choked before getting to the question. "Did the delivery boy get lost taking the straight road from here to Crasden? How did this happen?"

Ashe then sent demanding looks to the two representatives. She had taken the first swing and now clearly expected the others to join in. A cough from the black-haired woman on the left drew everyone.

"We don't know. All the Watch has been able to gather is that they've managed to make it under this city."

I couldn't make the blood drain from my face, so I did the next best thing and pulled the helmet to my chest. My fingers strummed its hard exterior while I stared blankly at the table, seemingly going over calculations. A process a voice on the left interrupted.

"Now, it is unknown how much of the compromise is due to their own efforts and how much is the crafts they stole or possibly obtained here-"

I shot out of the chair, flinging the helmet just past her head as I did so. The guards' hands instantly went to their holstered swords as wood banged against stone wall, but nothing else moved save five pairs of eyebrows going upward to me.

"Obtained here?!" I growled like a feral animal, hopefully with just the right mix of outrage and bewilderment. "Do not try to foist blame on me!"

Her lips pursed before a cough made her turn to Ashe. The governor had a deep frown that matched hard jade pools. The expectant gaze forced the plant mage to turn back to me. I could see words ready to spring from her tongue, but it was her brutish companion who snorted.

"We can fuss over blame later. Right now, purging the green sluts is the issue."

I pursed my lips, trying to work the sudden spark of anger at the insult indirectly sent Gula's way into a more genuine display. Taking a second to meet each of their eyes, I sat back in the chair.

"How deep are they into the city?" I asked the table in front of me, not meeting any of their eyes.

A moment of pure silence passed before the Grower's representative spoke up.

"They're by this river."

Closing my eyes, I leaned back into the chair and tilted my head upward. A resigned sigh escaped my lips as I continued staring into black void.

"This is obviously a tragedy for everyone." Ashe finally cut in. "The Grower and Mountain Top associations have agreed to provide any and all resources needed to expunge the menace from this city."

I sat in silence for a moment, taking in the atmosphere before landing the blow.

"We can't," I whispered to no one in particular

Dead silence stretched on for a few seconds before a rough voice from the right broke it.

"What do you mean?" The brute asked from the ink abyss.

Opening my eyes, I looked back down to the women who were now bearing the pale faces I couldn't imitate. There was no anger in their expressions, not yet, so I continued on with the explanation.

"If they're by the river, then it's already gotten past the point when I can kick them out."

Five blank gazes met mine, with the guards' eyes in their metal lion helmets now showing their full engagement. Ashe leaned forward, rustling her gold dress's white fur collar as she moved to rest her elbows on the table in a manner more similar to a dockworker at a pub than the high status her attire advertised.

"What?" She hissed out between gritted teeth, pulling the blue lips thin.

"Every building here relies on a foundation of hardwood riven into stone. Given that none of the buildings have collapsed, the orcs must have carved themselves a new home in the spaces where they could live without bringing the whole thing down. Spaces that, if I were to violently convict them, could collapse, bringing the whole city down with them."

The group stared at me, so still that I might think them expired if not for the slight rises of their chests. Silence settled in, though it was swiftly murdered by the brutish mage on the right slamming her right hand into the table.

"What?!" She yelled with the same panicked cadence of a stuck pig.

"How?!" Ashe cut in, glaring at her earth mage companion before looking back to me.

I bit my lip and shrugged.

"I've had the schematics freely available to the Overseer and foremen. Given the usual speed of manual labor and our considerable sprint in construction, it wasn't an issue. By the time it could have been, I would have finished the project I am currently working on to essentially hold the entire city in a wooden bowl, which would have stopped tunneling efforts. Of course, that was all based on the assumption that they weren't given….How many magic crafts was it?"

Ashe took a deep breath as she leaned back in her chair, regal control reasserting itself.

"The Watch says….a lot. Maybe even dozens."

"Dozens," I stated in a heavy tone, staring her down with as much resignation as I could feign.

The Growers representative scoffed, drawing both our gazes.

"I think it is a poor craftsman who blames circumstance. How could you have designed a city with such a weakness?"

Real, hot anger surged through my veins, sending the hair on my neck skyward as I bared my teeth.

"And I think that gaping wound in the universe between your ears is the greatest tragedy of this sordid affair!" I yelled with the all the force my lungs could give. Not content with that, I shot up out of the chair with that genuine anger appropriately used. "Weakness? A sword isn't weak because it can't cut while it's still being poured into the mold. The only reason this happened is because you lot gave a load of magic crafts to the FUCKING ORCS!"

Red splotched her face, mixing with tan skin and the lighter corners where the hood blocked sun.

"I didn't lose them! This was all our predecessors' doing."

"Percy?" I asked, looking down at her with appropriately wide eyes. "He's been gone for…. They've had them for that long?"

Judging by the severe glares she was getting from her compatriots, the plant mage had just pushed the conversation to a place none save me wanted it. A situation I took advantage of by looking around the table. Even Ashe visibly struggled to meet my gaze, with the other two looking to the sides when my eyes met theirs. When I completed the inspection, I sat back down as I felt the conversation fall firmly into my grasp.

"Why is this information only now reaching me?" I demanded of the room like a father speaking to errant children. While the three women didn't appreciate the tone, none spoke up for a solid second before Ashe finally delivered the news.

"There were complicating factors."

"Such as?" I asked, thinning patience coming clear through.

"There was a report from a member of the Watch. One stipulating it was your crafts who fell into orc hands."

I sucked in my lips but said nothing else, which Ashe took as consent to continue.

"There was reason to believe that this agent contacted the representatives of the Growers and Mountain Top associations to help bring a case of negligence against you."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table as I did so. Again, I said nothing, prompting her to continue.

"We have since learned that they used their position to release the Mist pirate scion, without my or anyone else's permission. As far as we can tell, all four vanished before Percy and his conspirator in the Mountain Top were due to ship out and explain themselves to their betters in their respective associations. Any trace of them has since been lost, but we are quite certain they're among the Mist pirates now."

Taking a deep breath, I released it into the air. There I sat, going over events in my head, trying to work through all the false and true personalities involved in this deception. It took a few more seconds of dead silence before the brute on the right smacked the table.

"I still don't buy that we can't get them out. Just work around one building at a time."

Two hopeful nods greeted her words, which I crushed with a shake of my head.

"That would bring the entire thing down. No. If you want to get them out, we're going to have to rip everything up right back to the first stone slab. And as far as I am aware, the peasants' previous homes have since been demolished. Maybe we can squeeze a hundred thousand people in that glass box?" I asked, keeping my tone on the very edge of impudence.

Again, the table was assaulted by the earth mage, this time with both hands

"This is troll shit! Digging up one building won't somehow bring down all the others. If they can stay upright in the stone by themselves, they can do it without any of the others around."

It was aggravating to have the simplest explanation be the right one. Fortunately, I had the expertise and knowledge to obscure that truth.

"It's like arches, two ends holding each other up. You clearly don't have the brains of your predecessor. At least, I hope it was her. Of the two, Percy was always the bigger wound in any good day."

The brute's face went red while Ashe scrunched her eyebrows together.

"What do they have to do with it?" The healing mage asked, teeth grinding behind a barely held together smile.

I leaned back into my chair, shrugging as I did so.

"They knew that the orcs couldn't be taken out. Your predecessors probably demanded the plans from one of the foremen, compared them with what the agent, who didn't know they were the source of the crafts, was saying, and then realized they had just blown the entire plan to oblivion. I can only hope their lives as pirates contains as much pain as the human body can possibly experience."

Judging by the wide eyes and bit lips around the table, this possibility hadn't been previously considered. Even the brute drew a bit inward, her uncomprehending face hesitant. With seemingly two other people backing up my explanation, their resistance was now crumbling. Despite a heaving chest, the plant mage managed to speak up.

"Wh-….If- The architects!" She squeaked with a pleading look to Ashe. "Have the head of the architects look over the plans."

Ashe's blue lips dubiously puckered. Then she looked between her companions, both of whom were giving her desperate faces, praying for a final tug on this last bit of rope before they take the proper fall. Her green eyes then looked back at me, asking me for permission. Taking a deep breath, I shrugged before mouthing the word 'fine', making sure thin patience was on full display. Her green eyes then went to her lion guard on the left. A second of silent staring and conversation no doubt conducted in a spirit connection ended with the guard running off with a dramatic twirl of his purple cape and bits of cloth around his arms.

Time ambled on as the two needed pieces were retrieved. The three women were in varying states of frayed nerves. While the brute bit her nails and gulped down air, her plant mage companion was content to strum her fingers on the table while the rest of her sat still as stone. Ashe sat upright, not moving any part of her body save those green eyes which darted back and forth, going over some unspoken calculus.

The air had a palpable thickness, a feeling of dread at what was coming. That the conclusion had already come and gone was a fact I kept to myself. Content to sit back and wait, a good twenty minutes of my life were spent before the last bit of theater came through the front door.

The presumptive head of architects was a slightly pudgy, pale fellow sporting a brown vest and matching pants, a white shirt, and a bald crown with faded brown hair along the sides. While his bulbous nose and sharp cheekbones were noteworthy, it was the ever-so-slight tan on the left side of his face that drew attention. That and the stacks of familiar papers in his hands.

"Lady Ashe, I am at your service." He announced, trying to project calm. Something the fear in his grey eyes undermined.

Ashe said nothing, content to pull her chair back and motion the man to the table. He obeyed, walking up and plopping the small stack of blueprints for my domain onto the table with a slight nod to me. His gaze continued to linger on me before turning to Ashe for further instructions.

"This is a matter of utmost secrecy. It goes without saying that you will be held to an oath of silence at the first step you take out of here."

He nodded without a trace of hesitation or obstinance.

"We've had an incident that has left some sections of this city partially undermined in its underground portions." Ashe continued. "The buildings will all collapse if these portions are overtly disturbed. At least that is what Lord Tilvor has told us. Would you be able to verify this?"

Grey eyes went to mine, brown eyebrows furrowing as they did so.

"These portions-" He tongue faltered for a moment, struggling to politely ask if I was incompetent.

"Orcs got a hold of some stone manipulation crafts from the Growers and Mountain Top associations. They've since claimed sections of the underground here-"

"Tilvor!" The plant mage growled from my left.

I slowly turned my head until I was facing the woman baring her teeth to me like a feral dog. A quip came to me, but her words found purchase first.

"Did he need to know that?" She furiously demanded.

Taking a deep breath, I met her grey eyes.

"Silence, child. People who still have prospects ahead of them are speaking."

The words landed like a physical slap, sending her head back and cowing her expression. Rebuke delivered, I turned back to the newcomer. Whatever the architect was thinking of the interaction or the revelation I had just spouted off, he kept himself remarkably composed, as if neither incident had occurred. A lack of reaction that continued as I resumed my instruction.

"I, of course, know which sections are capable of being dug out without collapsing the surrounding structures. These bits, however, can still do so if molded properly and then caved in. A now effortless task thanks to their newfound powers with mana."

He looked between the four of us, trying to not appear as confused as he was clearly feeling.

"Forgive my ignorance, great mages, but what exactly am I being asked to do?"

Ashe's eyebrows furrowed in a dangerous manner.

"I've already said as much. Verify Tilvor's claim."

Despite the deviation in magical ability and the unfathomable nature of dimensional travel, the man's face being schooled into being passive while his eyebrows raised ever so slightly was the same I had seen too many times back in my world. Hell, I've probably made the same look hundreds of times. The person putting the credits in your account just asked for something unfathomably complex with the expectation that it be done in a few minutes. Unlike my past experiences, he was totally under the ignoramus's power and had no choice but to undergo the impossible task.

Pages were put under his thumb, moved around, and then put back in place as he tried to force the figures into his mind. Accompanying him on the journey was the intense golden glow of the mana lamp above and three pairs of womanly eyes staring with growing impatience. Either from his audience's increasing discontent or the limits of his own abilities, he looked up from the diagram of the river system to meet my gaze.

"Lord Tilvor, could I pester you for some guidance?"

"Sure."

"Would I be wrong to assume this wood is magically enhanced?"

"You would be correct to assume so."

He nodded before turning back down to the page.

"Such material is unfamiliar to me. What are its load-bearing and tensile strengths?"

"It is most comparable to steel. I've found its ability similar to that material, though it doesn't seem as strong in its thinner forms and is obviously lighter. I could write down the near-exact per-foot properties later if you want."

He bit his lip, nodding as he continued scouring the pages. For minutes, papers fluttered and shifted as he studied the lines etched into them. The lack of apparent progress began wearing on the women, something he picked up on. After looking over the page with the apartment's lower sections, he finally released a cough.

"Lady Ashe, I must ask permission for complete honesty."

The solemn face he wore foretold nothing she wanted to hear, yet the healing mage bore a strained smile all the same.

"Only fools prefer comforting delusion to painful truth. You have permission."

"I feel like the accomplishment of this city is not being totally appreciated." The architect said, steady politeness firmly in front of every word. "To build on this scale is a monumental task. And not just in magical ability, as immense as his has shown to be."

The man sent a slight nod my way before he continued.

"The calculations, the sheer scale of the design considerations. My fellows and I thought that Harrah's Tower would be a pile of rubble on the first swing of it trebuchet. But it held firm on the first, third, and every one after. Just that tower alone, dealing with the momentum, strains on the lower supports-"

An almost feral growl from the earth mage drew every eye to my right.

"And what is the point of all this cock sucking?" She spat out, sending spittle through the air.

A terse smile came to the architect's lips for the briefest fraction of a second before he killed the emotion and answered.

"I am not qualified, nor are any of my fellows, to parse these plans. Give me a few years of double-checking this woods properties-"

"Years?" Ashe asked breathlessly, her blue lips puckering.

The man bit his lip for a moment before nodding.

"My Lady, to even begin to work through this problem, I would need to understand the properties of the material involved. That means testing, running numbers, then rechecking. Even after all that, I would still need to parse how the orcs' crafts dig into the stone floor. And that's assuming the stone floor here has the same properties as the rock I work with back in Crasden. If not, that's an entire other project. Only then could I start working out the structural nuances of these buildings.

All that to say, Lady Ashe, there is but one person who can give you the information you have requested in an acceptable amount of time."

The final word accompanied a pointed swing of his grey eyes to me.

Silence filled the room. Not a soul moved as anticipation for Ashe's response simmered. When she finally let loose a small sigh from her nose, it hit with as much weight as the brute's abuse of my table.

"I thank you for your time. I would also remind you of the oath of silence."

An oath, to my understanding, was not something imposed but taken. If the architect had any similar thoughts, they weren't shared. He gave a bow, then went to pick up the pages. When Ashe shook her head to leave them, he did another bow, then walked across the room to the main door.

"Well," I announced with appropriately fake cheer. "I hope that clarified things."

The smack of wood on stone announcing our guest's exit punctuated the last word. None of the three women registered my wit or each other as their faces told of inward inspections and thoughts. A few times, their heads turned back and forth before all three eventually settled their eyes on me, though it was Ashe who spoke.

"If this city cannot be saved, then a new one will have to be made. Any resources or labor needed will be provided at full compensation of the Growers and Mountain Top associations."

Visible winches from the other two women almost made me smile. Unfortunately for them, I couldn't take the offer. A moment of putting on a show of consideration passed before I sighed and shook my head.

"Building an entirely new city isn't an option. Sadly, I made the mistake of allowing myself to get old. An error a lot of people make. I just….Another slog like that just isn't in me."

Three pairs of mouths opened only to close again when I put up my right hand.

"Yeah, all the labor and resources from the gangs of fools. I got that. But I'm still going to be the one having to direct it all. Making sure none of the men slip up on any little detail. Honestly, I've spent my whole life around monsters, eaten more than a few of them. The orcs….Well, they can't kill me any harder than any skinner can, and I've survived living among them well enough so far."

"You would abide orcs in your city? Willingly?" Ashe asked with an incredulous furrowing of red eyebrows.

Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward onto the table and met her green eyes.

"Pup, I've gotten this old by understanding my position. If it looks like I'll kill the men's orc wives and children, I'm sure I'll suffer an accident. Maybe a trip down the steps that sees my neck hit a stone corner, or maybe a heart attack from a bit of poison. And, I have to be honest here, they're the least likely to betray me to the Mist pirates. An aspect that's quite appealing after hearing that the water scion whose familiar I killed is now roaming about."

Ashe puckered her blue lips, a sour expression that matched the look in those green eyes.

"Giving in to the green menace is not a position any mage should have." She stated with a note of disdain.

Amusement mixed with bristling at her tone.

"It is the one I have been given by the incompetence of others. Tell me, great inheritor of a great house, do you understand your position?" I asked, keeping the disgusted looks of the two other women out of my mind.

Red eyebrows raised at the question. When nothing else came from her lips, I pushed on.

"Judging by our guest's reaction, you didn't tell your people of this development."

Her small nose flared, though her green eyes remained passive.

"This has been kept under the strictest confidence. And before you ask, yes, we've had any attempts of Crasden being mined under sealed off."

A snort escaped my nose as I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms.

"Oh? When your architects made this great seal around your city, did they do so in the knowledge that orcs would be using stone crafts?"

Ashe went totally still. Her chest heaved for a moment before coming under control.

"While it is a lot slower, mining still works through rock in the same manner and-"

I threw my head back, rolling my eyes as I did so. No charade was being danced through at this juncture, as the profound stupidity of that statement forced genuine derision through. Looking back down at her, I soundlessly moved my mouth as I tried to find the needed words.

"Are you serious?!" I finally shot back, trying to convey the sheer magnitude of the ignorance she had displayed. "No, it's not. Mining with picks needs considerations for changes in the material, implementing support struts…. Magical mastery over stone is not anything remotely like that."

Blue lips were sucked in as she stared at me, her green eyes showing a mind running at a sprint. When those green eyes turned to the earth mage on my right, the brutish woman shirked back. The withering gaze continued for a second longer before the brutish woman helplessly shrugged. Ashe then turned downward to glare murder at the table.

My tongue struggled to stay still as Ashe's face started to color red. Some quip about this being an informative visit for both of us begged for its release, fueled further by the anger roused from slandering my abilities as a builder. Petty and only serving to undermine my position as the wronged party. To say nothing of how hard it would make future work with Crasden.

God, I hate politics.

Whatever was brewing in Ashe's mind, she never deigned to give it voice as she rose from the table. Manicured fingers painted blue reached out and grabbed both association representatives by the shoulder before yanking them upward. Without another word spoken, she pulled them along towards the main door as her two lion guards awkwardly followed behind.

Not even a goodbye?

The slam of wood on stone with the last guard's exit said no.

I sat still for a second before stretching in place. My mental model of the time said I had a few hours left. A list of the day's tasks came, and despite the labor I had performed so far, both pleasant and arduous, my legs still managed to get me out of the chair. It was another ten minutes or so before my clothes were all dried and armor equipped. Opening the front door, I set out under a sun in its dying fall to see to whatever last few bits of work I could see to before everything had to be seen in torchlight.

Inspections and walking between them were performed at their usual paces, along with only the occasional stare from a stranger. Of course, most spared a look for the man in the center of red guards, even if they weren't aware of my status as the city's lord or as a plant scion. However, it was during a walk between the market stalls of the central market that I noticed a few of the city's residents were staring at me with a kind of reverence and hope that magical talent hadn't produced before.

Normally, news of my doings last night might not have spread so quickly. The various corpses I put around all the city's entrances, however, spread such a sensation almost as fast as my universe's media. Kev may not have appreciated having to spend manpower at each spot to keep traffic moving, of course. Such concerns were far from those under his command who were present for the famed event. More than once, I was on my way to inspect the sewer lines or other bits only to see a guard from last night basking in being the center of attention of some open pub room, no doubt recounting the legend.

Night, however, cared for nothing save its own arrival, and I was soon walking over the drawbridge leading into my half oval home. The instant the door was shut, routine took over, only slightly interrupted by the need to work off the new armor. That added an extra minute before I was once again leaning against the bed. Discussion with the radio barely registered, save the bit about Gula coming by later tomorrow night. Having only an hour or two before bed, I decided to spend it down the hole to finish excavating the room for my future neural translator.

This time, I was only interrupted after an hour when, upon exiting the room now as wide as my bedroom, a familiar black mass smacked into the ground by the ladder. A slit of shifting colors, each matching one of the magical elements, moved along the black oval crystal to look between me and the fresh batch of stone I was set to carry to the toilet upstairs. The shifting mass of shapes below what I assumed was Cell's main body turned into a cube before a wind spell launched him onto the slab of grey rock in my hands.

"And what have you been up to?"

A sensation of static hit my chest before images of trees and rivers filled my mind. Then a long, yellow snake bared its open mouth before it swallowed my familiar whole. The beast's last mistake was corrected when Cell shot out a whirlwind of stone shards, littering the surrounding bushes with bits of yellow scale and blood. The next few images were wide views overlooking one of the surrounding settlements before zipping back here.

'I suppose I understand wanting to get out every now and then, if you wanted to see the trees.' I mused through the spirit connection, trying to not let my irritation at his recent lack of assistance come too clearly through.

A feeling of curiosity came through the connection. How such a feeling was being projected into my brain with all the attending interactions of neurons was another curiosity that I pushed aside.

'It's been good here. Sure, I've probably blacked out the worst bits from trauma, but if you can lie to yourself enough, and get just a few pleasant visits from the marriage's better half….Halfs, it can be good.'

Annoyance. Images of me talking a few seconds ago, like a self-picture. He replayed an image of me seemingly holding him as my face tried not to look irritated. A second longer, and I realized he was referring to the aggravated tone I had failed to conceal moments earlier.

'I'm just saying, perhaps it would have been a better use of time finishing these renovations than going out to see a bunch of hills and houses barely a step above mud huts.' I put in with a crafted smile.

The slit of color shifted left and right before he sent me images of various old men. Each time he had been seen in various stages of struggling to reach up to a shelf, climb a stair or hill, and unsteadily walking with canes. Then he switched to various images of me, then back to the old men. This repeated two more times before I realized what he was insinuating.

'I'm an old, withered man? Is that it?' I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Agreement came through the connection.

'This body is barely reaching its twenties.' I responded.

Images of brains, then me looking at him. Hearts, then me again.

'Oh. I'm old in spirit, huh?'

More pictures of old men struggling to get up stairs. Grey-bearded grandpas watching children from porches. Liver spots on wrinkled, bald heads.

"That's enough, you little shit." I audibly growled, trying to sound more offended than amused.

Mischievous joy flowed from the buzz on my chest, successfully undermining the faux irritation.

'Since I'm so worn out and past my spiritual prime, you can help get this rock up to the toilet beside my bedroom and grind it into sand before sending it down the chute.'

The black square his oval core rested on melted into a puddle. Bits of the not really liquid drooped around curves in the stone while the slit of colors serving as his eye turned to his back and out of my vision. A god-like being of magic and a toddler, made one. I closed my eyes, shaking my head as I tried to fight down a smile. Opening my eyes, I took in the pouting for a moment before deciding to take a diplomatic approach.

'I'm sure you have a good time with Gula coming up. All that warm sun and tropical beaches. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can start making the metal case you'll be resting in. Unless, you'd rather I'd eyeball it, perhaps make the casing a bit uncomfortable at certain points."

No emotion or movement in the black mass with faint shifting colors greeted my attempt at peacemaking.

'You know, with the shipping lanes now open, we've gotten a lot of new products in. Some of the vendors have been selling goods that weren't available before. One of which was walnuts doused in spiced honey."

Nothing came from the spirit connection. That didn't stop the slit of shifting lights from coming around the curve of the crystal oval to stare at me.

'That and some mixed with hot spices or worked into herb breads. If I had any idea what your biology required, I might be hesitant to let you indulge in such sweetness or keep to such a limited diet, but when I see so many different ways my familiar's favorite food gets prepared, it makes me want to bring home some nice treats. What doesn't make me want to do so is having a long list of unfinished tasks back home.'

Through unknowable means of willpower, Cell somehow found the strength to pull himself together. Once the liquid portion of his body was back in square form, he launched skyward with the stone following behind. I looked up to see the rock flashing in the glow of the mana lamps it was zipping past. The retreating rock was given one last rueful smile before I commenced going back into the unfinished room. Perhaps it would do him and Gula some good to get closer, give her some time to learn about dealing with children.

The next few hours were spent carving stone and working hardened wood into arches along the ceiling. It was less arduous thanks to Cell carrying the stone up the tunnel, yet the precision demanded by the placement of the supporting beams left the task only nearly finished when I had to stop and work in the main shop upstairs to forge a suitable bit of copper into a piece that would support his unusual frame. Somehow, Cell still managed to negotiate another day and a half of freedom before he took off with Gula. That and a few minutes of metal magic were all that preceded our tucking in for the night.

Morning came, as it always did. This one, however, arrived with fully clothed maids and an unmolested wash. As I was sitting at the dining room table, working on a breakfast plate of thick bacon, eggs, and biscuits, the blonde maid came up with a letter and gently placed it on my right. I nodded to her, sighing into the brown face covering as I put down my fork. Bringing the page in hand, I let loose another sigh when I saw it was from the local Front representative, Nina. Despite already knowing what the letter contained, I did her the courtesy of properly reading it.

'Over the course of my many years serving at the Front, pushing forward the human race, I have had to explain the importance of supporting mages. Often, to others not blessed with the use of mana and having been freshly wronged by those who can. Something I never thought I would have to explain to a mage.

Orios represented untold wealth and effort poured into his abilities, to say nothing of his companions. We at the Front have always consoled restraint between mages, lest both die in the struggle and the sweat and toil that went into them be lost as well. Whatever your past grudges with him, the deaths of so many mages represent an immense loss for all mankind. No association may come demanding recompense, yet we are all worse off for his death.

To compound this, the justification used might further endanger other mages. If one should bump into a peasant, this tale might further inflame tension instead of simply accepting the mistake. Adding yet further injury, Orios was spreading his seed. This duty-'

My eyes immediately went upward to stare at grey stone wall. Making the executive decision that enough reading had been performed for the day, my gaze turned rightward towards the blonde maid.

"Would you get me a page along with a quill and ink?" I asked.

She gave me a smile, bowed, then went out the door. By the time the last bit of egg was being washed down with water, the door opened again to reveal the maid bearing the requested items. I exchanged them for dirty dishes and set about my written rebuttal with a single dip of the quill tip into the ink well.

'Nina, you expound on the societal costs of losing a mage, yet you miss more fundamental prices paid by their actions. Things not measured in gold or mana coins. To counter your misconception of the incident, I tell you, in complete and total honesty, that I had not so much as heard his name before our meeting. He and his companions are rotting at my gates for the sole reason of their raping of that girl.

There is, however, a deeper divide between us besides those wastrels. I have not existed in proper society for very long, save a few sneaky visits before I came to these lands. Several times, I have had the misfortune of being involved with my kind. Encounters that have left me deeply unimpressed. You speak of mages as being an other than yourself, so I will assume you are magically barren. As such, let a mage explain mages to you.

Almost everything they do after their tenth winter is pointless. Every copper they get is spent chasing ever-diminishing returns in colored meats and vegetables, swallowed down alongside delusions and whispers of being the next ultimate mage. The coating of grandeur around them hides the simple truth that most are a burden. A few will go on to do admittedly great things, building infrastructure or helping in the forging of airships, yet these are scraps thrown out to hide the astronomical price they inflict on society.

In the short time I've been in this-'

At the last moment, my brain caught my fingers about to put the word dimension to ink. Mentally refocusing myself on the character Laperict, the writing continued.

'thing called civilization, I have been heaped with praise for my workings. Why? Because I used crafts to save the people's lives and provide badly needed services. That is not as praiseworthy as it is fucking ridiculous that it wasn't already provided by the mages who were already being paid for such services.'

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Perhaps such profanity was beneath the dignity of this correspondence. I was, however, near a full page into this and I wasn't about to restart.

'While governments and families give everything for them, mages return only a pauper's scraps. Nonsense I will not have dragging me down. For the purpose of Orios and his ilk, just know he won't be the last if other mages come stomping into my territory again. I came here for a good retirement, and anyone disturbing my peace will find their heads stomped in, scion or magic-less peasant. If you want to avoid future incidents, then inform my fellows of what awaits them if they visit my city.'

With the needed words put to page, I pushed the letter to the side to allow the ink to settle before handing it to the blonde maid for its send-off. After she left, I stretched in place before donning the leather coat resting on the back of the chair. I spent a few seconds adjusting the cloth face covering, taking in the last few seconds of freedom before heading out. Work called, and with one final sigh, I answered with a walk to the door.

The rest of the day went by in a blur of inspected gates, tested vegetables, and working out possible dock expansions. Now that the city was made proper, my labors were mostly focused on making sure everyone else wasn't mishandling what I had made. Save a few side projects here and there, I had totally surrendered to the manager's chair. This did leave me with more energy on my late arrival back home. Something I would no doubt need with Gula's promised visit.

Once my manhood was fully restored, I waited a good half-hour before setting down the tunnel beneath my bed. As I stepped down the wooden ladder, moving between the mana lamps dotting the walls, I heard a rock below shift. Looking towards the disturbance, I saw a familiar green head a few dozen feet down.

It was Gula, my orc wife, smiling so widely that her horizontal scar on the sharp nose had almost disappeared, while the vertical scar on her left eye was emphasized. Those black orbs and golden irises were rather alien compared to a humans but the joy they held would never be lost in translation. She stood near the end of the ladder wearing a white shirt and brown pants similar to my own.

A head of black hair barely going to her shoulders swayed with the slight hopping in place. Green lips were sucked in above a sharp chin. My right foot had barely grazed the stone floor before she shot up to me. A hair's breadth of space was all that lay between us as my worldview was filled with green woman. Between the pleading gold eyes and kissing motions she probably didn't mean to display, it was clear even that bit of distance was torturous for her. I took her hips with both hands and pulled her into a kiss, with the accompanying punch of vinegar and spice.

This time, no scolding of impropriety came, as she was often fond of doing. She pulled me deeper into the kiss with a yank on my head. Not content with this, Gula leaned fully into me. A human woman at her height, a full head or so shorter than mine, would push with all the force of a broom. Garren, however, envisioned a feminine sex with hardier construction than God favored. A fact I had forgotten until the critical moment.

A split second of falling was all I got to make sure neither of us bit each other's tongue off, leaving my back to slam into the wood with a painful thud.

"You OK?!" Gula squeaked, sounding more like the one hurt rather than the one inflicting it.

"Yes," I said with a pull of her back into my chest.

A twenty-year-old male body could survive almost anything in the name of what Gula was promising. Instead of resuming our play, Gula bit her lip as she looked me up and down.

"Where's the new jewelry piece?" She asked as she rested her hands on my chest.

If not for being preoccupied with pulling her into me, one of my hands would have slapped my forehead.

"The piece is in the workshop upstairs."

I finished with a release of her hips. The smile on her face held surprisingly firm.

"Better go get it, then," Gula offered, a mischievous note in her voice. A slight pullback accompanied her words.

A raised eyebrow was all I gave her before turning around. I worked my way up the ladder, sparing a passing glance at the orc still staring at me before taking off as fast as my legs would allow. The copper half oval was quickly retrieved, along with some bits of wood and string for decoration, and I found myself descending in the same manner I had minutes before. While I had a small sack hanging on my left shoulder this time, there was also a lack of green woman staring up at my arrival.

"Gula?" I called as I plucked the copper half-oval out of the sack.

A cough from the left told me she was in the new cave. I walked around the side and was presented with a sight all husbands dream of. On top of a blue blanket lay a bare and eager wife, her clothes lying to the right of her position in the center of the room. No matter the green of her skin, the invitation of her open legs and demure smile still registered life's purpose in the lizard sections of my brain.

"Jewelry does need some bare surface to get all the contours just right." I mused as I walked up to her.

"It's a good thing I've come prepared for the fitting, then," Gula offered coyly.

I responded by sitting down just below her hip and resting my knees just below her raised legs. The position was more of an outright statement than a suggestion. No matter how clothed I was, the way Gula adjusted her hips to line up her carpet of black pubes against my groin made expectation clear.

"Will we have to worry about Cell coming by?" Gula asked, her golden eyes greedily scouring my frame as I fetched the needed copper piece.

"No, I got all I needed from him for this section. But he will be back tomorrow for your departure. Considering how much we both have to do in the morning, we shouldn't stay up too late." I stated, placing the half oval of cold metal just below the collarbone. The instant it touched her skin, the orc shivered from the sudden chill, sending her breasts and their wide dark green nipples swinging.

There were so many designs to implement. Considering I was using wood and string, a natural theme was obvious. Maybe something to hug the breasts. The objects in question were only large enough to just fit my palm and their contours….

It took a second to realize I was staring further down at the presented pillows. A look upward revealed a smug-looking Gula biting her lip in amusement. Perhaps it had been a very long second of staring.

Coughing, I retrieved a few bits of wood and string. Before the night's activities could properly begin, I would need to get some basic work done. At least, I would if I wanted to be sleeping before midnight.

Sucking in some mana, I used metal magic to fashion a thin sheet of copper at the top before making a hole for the string. Two other slots for attaching the rest of the decorations were put on both sides. Lying it atop my wife's bare chest, I began working some bits of wood around the copper core.

A minute of working twine and wood left me still struggling for an overall design. It felt right to have breasts jutting out the sides…. Wings. Wings out the sides to emphasize the breasts.

….

Who is this act fooling?

Tossing the unfinished craft to the right, I proceeded to yank my shirt upwards.

"I thought you didn't want to stay up too late? Something about work in the morning." Gula asked smugly as a world of white cloth passed up and out of my vision.

"I'll stay up to the cracking of dawn if need be. The city will survive one lax day from me." I growled.

My hands went to seize hers. Instead, Gula pulled herself up to wrap her upper body against mine. It was hard not to concentrate on the press of her chest, but her black furrowed eyebrows and severe stare helped me.

"Don't. Hold. Back. Eli." She commanded, slowly emphasizing each word. "I told you, the instant you get any kind of desire or need, take it out on my body. No matter the time or place. It's the least I can give you."

I got an inkling of suspicion that this was a matter of mutual desire on her part. Another, wittier word play won out.

"Good. Earlier, I was trapped in a meeting with the governor and some do-nothings from the magical associations. Next time, I'll make sure to call you up. Working you into the table while they babble on would certainly help proceedings."

Her lips sucked in a suppressed smile as gold eyes regarded me with the same indulgence one would give a wayward toddler. When she started losing the fight with laughter, she opted to lean her forehead into my collarbone. My vision filled with black hair, I could only wait as her shakes gradually subsided.

"You're ridiculous." She finally declared, pulling her face back with a wide smile.

Those golden eyes, however, spoke of lust nearing the limits of its leash.

I did one final mental check on the needed tasks. The giant toads healing crafts were done. Gula's new jewelry was clearly not. A minor chore. Anything else?

When a resounding no came back, I felt my frontal cortex shut down. Raw, base animal took over as I seized Gula's sides and pressed her down into the blue blanket. There was no fear or surprise in those gold eyes, only a mutual need. As I felt her hands begin to work my pants, I decided to work her lips with mine. The sting of vinegar and spice was the last bit to stand out before the world faded into a blur.