Heart of the Arcane

Daron was running. Sweat was beaded on his forehead and he kept looking over his shoulder. There was something chasing him. His legs were so small, he was so young, how could he outrun something like that? His parents were with him too, running, mother ahead, and his father behind. They were all that stood between him and the darkness that swirled around him.

The slam of a heavy door let him know he was safe, but it was dark. He heard steel clashing, and something else. He didn’t know what it was, he hadn’t ever heard it before, nor since. A high pitched keening sound that was wholly alien and yet perfectly terrestrial. Something was out there, but he was with his parents, he was in a shelter, he was safe.

He turned to look at his mother and father. They were gone, outside of the door, shielding him, protecting him.

It was here, it was upon them. That sound, squealing and shrieking as metal clashed and scraped across whatever it was. They were doing battle with it, and losing. Another whine and then a scream and then-

Daron bolted upright in his bedroll. His hair, normally handsomely styled when it wasn’t encased in his helmet, was shiny and slick with his own sweat. Matted to his forehead in odd ways from the tossing and turning. He felt the woolen blanket soaked as well. The muscles in his arm hurt from gripping the hilt of his sword so firmly and for so long.

“Nightmare?”

Eloise’s silhouette flickered in the dying light of a campfire that had been reduced to embers. It was best to keep the light low while keeping watch. The crossbow that was usually strapped to her back lay across her lap, even as she bent over it to prod the coals with a stick. The red glow from the embers only seemed to enhance the flowing red hair that was normally bound up in a tight bun, tonight though, she had chosen to let it out.

“Yes, sorry if I worried you.” Daron replied, his mind coming back to him and the dense fog of his nightmare clearing out at last.

“Same one?”

Daron hesitated, comforted by the two other snoring companions, still asleep, undisturbed. At worst he had only disturbed his longest friend, which was acceptable.

“The same one.” Daron confirmed.

He had once, and only once shared what fragments of the nightmare he could remember with Eloise. She had nodded along and comforted him. His parents had died protecting him. The standoff that had ended them had also saved Castle Aeonir, Daron’s birthright, home, and shield to Emberdale. If those walls were breached, then there would be little to stand in the way into the valley and everyone who lived in it.

The Beohold family were heroes and it was commonly understood that great things came from the family. In the years since the siege though, Daron had grown in the care of the staff in the castle; they were his family as much as his parents had been. The castle, though, still bore many of the scars from past wounds. Which was why Daron was not in the castle and instead in the wilderness with a small cadre of companions, earning coin for supplies to restore it to the same glory it once radiated.

There was a sizable bag of coin to be earned in adventure. Daron had snorted at that. Adventure, dashing knights and slaying dragons. It had been mud and muck, rain water seeping into his clothes as it slipped through the plates in his armor, and blood. So much blood. Not always his, but after a while it all smelled the same. The metallic scent of it suffused his very senses even when he wasn’t in battle.

It did, however, pay well.

There was money in it. The small single horse cart that sat next to their camp, safely out of the reach of any wild ember that might burst from the fire, but well within eyesight. Sacks of gems, gold and silver coins locked in a sizable chest, and a number of other craft goods that various villages and small time nobles had given as tribute for their good deeds. When they arrived in Koris tomorrow most of the intangible goods would be sold, or traded, and the sum divided up equally between Daron, Eloise, and his other two companions.

Tanila, their healer and Hakenos would get their fair share. Tanila would squeak, bow her head and stutter a thanks and comment that her contributions were meager at best. Daron would practically have to shove the coin purse into her belt for her sometimes. Often with a smirk behind his helmet. He had hoped that after being with their small party for so long that she would grow to be confident in her abilities. He still held out that hope, knowing that one day she might realize her own value.

Hakenos on the other hand would be like flicking gold at a brick wall for all the response he would get. The ashen skinned man was a person of few words, but the combination of military training and the magic that had been forced into him were invaluable. Even if those abilities were originated by nefarious means, and were more torture than blessing, Hakenos had made the best of the worst. Daron could see that, along with the struggle writhing inside of him. They were broken people, and despite everything Daron had done, he worried that they were only more broken after years in the world.

Eloise shifted in her seat, slipping away from her little perch and settling down in the dust next to Daron. All it took was a simple hand on his shoulder from his long time friend to help his heart rate plummet. He took a deep breath, balled up the terror in his mind and shoved them into that lungful of air and let it seep out of him. Like the early morning fog burning away as the sun rose, so too did Daron’s emotions clear.

“The sun will be up soon. Join me and we can watch it together.” Eloise offered.

Daron nodded slowly, knowing there was no more sleep to be had for him. He stood and reached for his sword belt and chest plate.

“Leave them.” Eloise spoke barely above a whisper. “It’s safe here.”

Daron looked at her for a long moment before consenting to leaving his armor there, but the sword would come with him. He was a lot of things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. He knew they weren’t safe here, they weren’t safe anywhere.

Eloise was right though. The sunrise was beautiful. The golden disk of the sun smattered the horizon with reds and oranges as it slowly claimed the sky as its own. Daron, through squinted eyes, could see the gates of Koris and the sprawling city beyond. The trail they were on would take them right up to its gates.

Once there, they had a reward to claim, money would be divided up and their party would split. As the first bright rays of the sun crested the mountain range in front of him, Daron admitted to himself that he both dreaded and anticipated that time. It would be good to get his hands on raw material and use it to build, or rather re-build his home, Castle Aeonir. To use his muscles to build up instead of cut down. To see the faces of those who lived in the castle, like returning home to family.

His eyes drifted to where Eloise sat on the fallen log they occupied. Her crossbow leaning comfortably against her leg. Her elbows resting on her knees and her face resting easily in her hands. Daron could practically see the reflection of the swirl of colours in her eyes. Her, Hakenos, and Tanila were every bit a small family to him. More siblings than the people in his castle that had raised him after his-

“Food?”

The word was more grunted than spoken. Hakenos had extracted himself from his bedroll and was clattering around the camp some twenty paces back from Eloise and Daron. Shortly after Hakenos, Tanila quietly slipped from her bedroll as well, and like every other morning, quietly settled down into place and began a small ritual of prayer.

Daron knew the moment was over, but he was thankful for what he got. A sentiment that he found oddly humorous as it perfectly contextualized his life.

The camp was broken nearly an hour later. Bellies were filled with trail rations and the very last of the salted meats that they had carried with them from the last bastions of civilization. How many miles ago that was was not a concern. What mattered, more to some than others, was looking ahead and the kind of food that the evening would bring. As usual Daron was still busy clipping and tightening straps on his heavy set of armor while most of the other members of his party doused the cook fire, rolled up bedding, and packed their own packs.

Tanila gleefully nuzzled the pack mule and hitched it up to their cart. To Daron, she always seemed more at home with wildlife and nature. Perhaps that was her elven heritage at play, perhaps it was just personality. Regardless it was her duty to get the cart hitched and ready, once it was, she planted herself on the back of it, happy to let herself be pulled along wherever the cart went.

Hakenos, as usual, was on cook duty and spent more than a little time splashing water from a water skin over the cast iron pan and muttering. Never sure if he was pleased or grumbling or perhaps just making noise, Daron left him to his devices. Eloise, took care of most other things. Issuing orders and ensuring nothing was left behind.

Daron would spend the whole time strapping metal plates across his body. Many times padded only by a layer of cloth or perhaps leather at the joints. It took time, and he perpetually hated how little he contributed to breaking camp, despite his abounding usefulness in other ways. Still, the routine was done, only a scorched and makeshift fire pit remained as a monument to where they had camped. Daron lowered his heavy steel helmet to his head, latching the chin strap in place.

He was finally whole again, he was finally safe.

The remainder of the day progressed very much as Daron had expected. The march from their campsite into town was slow and quiet, a far cry from the ringing steel and shouts of battle that had dominated his life for the last years. It had only been months, but there were times when it felt like so much longer. He had lost track of time. Once he was diligent about tracking the passage of time and cycles, but after so long, the ritual had become background noise.

Lively and diverse, Koris was not exactly the central city for the region, then again, nothing was. It was a collection of villages, smaller towns, and settlements built on and around the ruins of a much more ancient Inikas civilization. Koris happened to be the most prominent, and therefore the default trade center for the region. Abundant in natural resources with lush woods that provided some of the heartiest timber for miles, and mines that were abundant in every kind of mineral and gem.

The claim to fame though, was the technology.

Gnomish and Elven craftsmen were easily enticed into the area by the abundance of ancient technology there. There was good business in not only recovering artifacts, tomes and trinkets, but refurbishing, study and even the sale of some of the more well understood items brought a measure of wealth to the city.

The smell was the first to hit all four of the companions. Heads tilted upward slightly, allowing their noses to fill with the scents of roasting meats, glazed in something sweet and savory. The warm comfort of fresh baked breads and pastries swirled around them and the succulent scent of fresh fruits. All of it assaulted them as they passed the threshold into town. Hakenos felt the pull and wavered away from the party only to be pulled back in by Daron.

“Sell the goods first, get our reward, then you can empty your pockets at the baker later.”

Hakenos, finding this denial to be utterly offensive, replied with a simple spoken word instead of a grunt, a rarity for him. “Fine.”

The lavish manor they were bound for was set near the far end of the city, sitting comfortably on the waterfront. Polish marble and white pillars adorned the estate's lawn and clashed brutally with the rough and tumble look for Daron and his company. They left the cart with the stable hands and took only a heavy burlap sack with them.

“Behold my lord.” Eloise began as they entered the small quasi-throne room. A place they had been only once before, and it had only been brief. “The beast of Koris. As requested, slain, purged from the holy vault, and its head brought as a trophy.”

Daron slipped the sack from his shoulder and lowered it towards the plush carpet they stood on, stopping only as the nobility before them quickly held up a hand.

“No need for..that..to touch the grounds here.” He snapped and one of his personal guards took the sack from Daron, opening it and almost retching into it. He coughed hard and looked to his master, nodding in confirmation.

“Good good. As promised.”

A moment or two later a large trunk was brought in, flipping it open Eloise and company could see that it was stuffed full of glimmering coins.

“We can have this delivered to your cart if you would prefer.” He offered.

“Splendid.” Eloise chirped before looking back at him. “But I don’t think you understand the trouble this whole endeavor caused us.”

That earned her a look from the man in front of her. The raised eyebrow was only the first crack in the facade of calm control he exuded from his little throne.

“Our deal was-”

“Our deal was to go to the Koris Holy Vaults and stop whatever was corrupting the church’s artifacts. Now, had we known that it was a half-demon monstrosity, we would have doubled our fee.”

“Well I hardly see how that’s-”

Eloise kicked the trunk shut. “And you know what, the priests there in town were talking to our healer friend here.” She gestured to Tanila. “And do you know what he told her?”

The bead of sweat that formed on the man’s head told Eloise that he knew exactly what they had been told.

“They said that they had told the good folks of Koris exactly what it was that was on the prowl in there, and that they were thankful that someone had finally taken up the job of slaying a demon.”

The stammering let Eloise know she was almost there.

“Now we have the head. We could restore it, but only, what, about a quarter of its power, right Hakenos?”

Grunt

“So. Before we call this a done deal. What say you pay us what we are owed…what we are actually owed.”

The man swallowed hard, nodded to one of his attendants who scampered off to pull out another box of coins to join the one at Eloise’s feet.

“Your generosity knows no bounds.” Eloise said with a smirk. “And I assure you this will be plenty to keep the details of this deal between us.”

With that her whole demeanor changed. The dark and knowing tone in her voice changed to sweet and kind. Thanking the lord for his gracefulness in hosting them and telling him that she looked forward to doing business again soon.

“Bit over the top don’t you think?” Daron asked once they were back at their cart and a few blocks away from the manor.

“He tried to swindle us.” Eloise commented, “I was only getting what we were owed.”

Grunt

“See, even Hakenos agrees.”

Daron pulled in a deep breath and let it back out slowly. “I just feel like there was a better method.”

“You couldn’t actually bring it back though, right Hakenos?” Tanila asked, her voice just barely above a whisper and fidgeted with the staff she carried.

“I could.” He replied.

“But..” Tanila squeaked.

“I’m too hungry,” Hakenos said, smiling at no one in particular.

An hour later the various carved art pieces, statuettes and raw coins had been exchanged, divided up and the companions were sitting comfortably in a tavern. Weapons were stored, Daron’s helmet had come off, though it sat prominently on the table, easily within reach, though the mug of thick, dark beer he drank from would suffer from a scramble. Daron didn’t feel unsafe here though, Koris was secluded, well guarded, and he had insisted on a tavern well off the beaten path. Admittedly, it also had some of the best brews and food in the city.

“Friends.” He said simply, lifting his cold mug of beer to be met with the others at the table. “It has been a pleasure.”

Eloise’s amber ale, Tanila’s glass of fine wine, and Hakenos’s thick sludgy porter all rang true, and the companions shared a drink. Food arrived shortly after and the table fell silent. It was tough to chat when your mouth was stuffed with fine stew, fresh breads, and crisp vegetables. More drinks came and were drunk, slowly but surely, as conversation progressed along with the day. Until it was finally time to part ways.

Purses laden with coin, the four companions said their goodbyes and parted, assuring one another that they would meet again and Daron, as per his usual humble courtesy, extended an invitation for them all to stay at Castle Aeonir anytime they wanted. The doors were always open to company as fine as they were, though he smirked and tossed a mocking sneer at Hakenos.

“Even you Hakenos. That gloomy old tower is still there. It’s all yours if you want it.”

There was a roll of laughter in the streets then, and when it quieted they departed from one another. Daron walking off with the cart and mule, bound for a number of less than exciting appointments. He needed stonemasons, timber, a few tools to replace the ones that were spent, and supplies of various kinds. Before he made it to his last stop, the stonemasonry, his cart was already filled. Part of his purchases that day would include a delivery, which he was thankful to pay. Despite his cautious airs though, he never saw the shadow trailing him through the streets, watching from just around the corner of a building, or standing at a fruit stand and looking sidelong at him.

Daron left the mason’s shop and gently coaxed the mule, pulling his cart into moving. The stone’s he requested would be delivered in the morning. For now, though, he was, at last, headed to his family home. Whoever was following him slipped into the shop once he was out of eyesight.

Eloise watched as Daron said his goodbye’s to the group. The laughter they had shared had died down and Daron was on his way to purchase lumber or some such thing. Tanila and Hakenos looked to part ways as well but there was something there, a look on Eloise’s face that made them stay. Tanila was the first to raise an eyebrow and open her mouth to ask what was wrong, but Daron wasn’t far enough away and ELoise quickly held up a finger to shush her.

He never looked back and slowly faded into the crowd. Once Daron was far enough gone Eloise nudged her head in the direction of the side street they stood by. The three remaining companions followed her into the shade between the two buildings.

“I needed the extra coin for something, a gift. It’s not much, but Daron has put things on the line for us too many times to not be rewarded for it.” Eloise said, letting the words flow from her mouth like a fast moving stream.

Tanila couldn’t help but beam at the idea of secretly doing something nice for Daron and the grin on her face made that clear. Hakenos’s nod was more than Eloise had hoped for from him.

“Good, I think my portion should be enough to get something, but-” Eloise began but found coin purses being produced from Hakenos and Tanila thrust at her. “Are..are you sure?”

Tanila let out a small sweet laugh that practically illuminated the alleyway.

Grunt

“Alright. Follow me, I’ll explain on the way.”

Daron would be in the market for a while, they knew. He was nothing if not thorough with his purchases. Wise with money meant pursuing the best deal and balancing quality with quantity, leaving ample time for Elosie.

The Gnomish tinkerer’s shop was easy enough to find, if not from the smell of oils and grease, then certainly by the sound of metal tapping against something crystalline. The ringing made Tanila’s elven ears twitch and wince the first time she heard it the same way a sudden sharp scrape of a fork across a plate might prick up your ears.

Inside was a wholly different universe. It was one part showroom, one part manic mess. There were a number of contraptions and gadgets littering the various display shelves, none of which were overtly apparent as to their use. Seemingly as soon as the three friends entered the door and let it latch behind them, a small man appeared from behind a curtain. Goggles perched on his head let them know he had been working on something, only because of the soot free circles around his eyes where they had protected him.

“Greetings! Welcome to The Spinning Cog. Can I help you, folks?”

Eloise stepped forward and as she did so easily put aside her usual sweet personality and slipped into the same demeanor as she used to negotiate for more gold. Her posture was tight and her hands coiled against the small of her back. SHe started with a small, polite and respectful bow.

“Yes, hello. I was told you had a selection of automatons. I’m in the market for something special for a friend of mine.”

Eloise’s more elegant speech seemed to land squarely on the small gnome who eagerly nodded and tried to match her grace. Impossible a task as that might be, given the smears of some kind of substance on the stained coveralls he wore, but he tried.

“Yes yes, of course, ah, one moment.”

He darted to the door and stood on the tips of his toes to reach a sign that he flipped around, indicating that the shop was temporarily closed before deadbolting the door.

“This process usually takes some time, I prefer to allow my clients a bit of privacy.” He commented and then waddled across the shop floor to the curtain he had appeared from behind. Pulling it aside and sweeping his hand in a gesture for the companions to join him.

The rear of the shop, like the front, was a lesson in clashing concepts. Large wooden tables braced with metal dominated one side. Clearly layers upon layers of projects were laid across them. Schematics and glowing crystals held in place by receptacles, tools, and a number of indescribable inventions. None of it was anything like what the companions had ever seen before, none of it made sense to them.

Along the opposite walls were the automatons that Eloise had requested.

Ethereal in their beauty. Each one seemed to have tumbled out of the annals of time and divinity. Three women, one man, or at least that was what they looked like to mortal eyes. They were, at their core, something altogether not humanoid. Even Tanila’s timeless elven beauty only barely compared to the grace and delicate construction of the automatons.

They looked human, or human enough. The simple clothes they all wore did more than enough to sell the image. Each one was strapped into place by a tightly bound cord around their waist and around the chest. It was enough to hold them upright while they were offline, though it did not look comfortable by any stretch of the imagination.

“All of these are essentially the same, it’s mostly just the outer casings that are different.” The little gnome mentioned, putting on the best sales pitch voice he could muster. “They’ll all have the same additional runestone slots, they’ll work just great, perfect for laboring, or care taking, or-”

“Conversation?” Eloise asked.

“Sure sure, yes. Though they’ll all start off fairly simple, but give them enough time and they’ll catch on and grow from there.”

“They’ll grow?” Tanila said, looking from the mechanical humanoids to the gnome. “How does that work?”

“Wh, w-well we aren’t actually really sure yet.”

That drew some strange looks.

“These are all recovered and repaired from some of the deeper caverns and what not. We’ve been studying how they work and we have a pretty good understanding about what to do to encourage growth and expansion and everything, but the actual arcane magics themselves, well, those are still a mystery.”

“So. Then. How do they grow?” Eloise asked.

“Oh yes of course. That’s the whole point of the cores!” The little gnome scampered over to the disheveled workbench and produced a small stone that seemed to shift colors as it moved. Sharp edges jutted out here and there, but etched deeply with runes that pulsed gently. It looked almost like it was breathing in his hands.

“These little things. They do different things. Add on a new aspect for your automaton. Insert this into one of the receptacles inside of your automaton and boom starts learning and doing new things. As it learns more and more runes will start to appear on the core. That’s the crystal deep inside of the body. Basically the core is who it is, or what it is really. Teach it how you want, enhance it with these, and-”

All of it seemed over their heads, even Hakenos who was easily the most well in tune with the arcane arts than any of the rest of them. Even then he was no mage, just in tune with the magical weave. The little gnome caught on that he was beginning to ramble and even titter on the edge of diving far too deeply into how everything worked..or how they suspected they worked at least. To stop himself he cleared his throat a bit and resumed his little pitch.

“So, all that remains is to pick out what your, ah, friend might like.”

The trio exchanged looks with one another and then turned to the line up of automatons before them. They scrutinized the automatons for a minute or two. Eloise and Tanila seemed undecided, but Hakenos stood staring at one for almost the entire time. He wasn’t so much considering it, rather looking at it with squinted eyes and concentrating. Tanila and Eloise had learned long ago that Hakenos had a way about him, and they were never quite sure if he truly was sensing something magical or if he was simply staring at something absently.

He nudged his chin towards it.

“You’re sure Hakenos?” Eloise asked.

“This is the right one. He’ll like it.”

The two girls looked at one another. That had been the most they had heard Hakenos talk in a single sitting. Probably. Still, if he was speaking that much he must have had a good reason.

“Why that one?” Eloise asked.

Hakenose grunted once, shrugged, and turned to leave the backroom.

“We’ll take her!” Tanila declared.

Daron was, as expected, still in the market. Still haggling and making deals. Slowly but surely the cart he had with him filled up with lumber, sacks of food stuffs and supplies. Iron nails and tools were settled next to a small crate packed with wine bottles for the staff, and a smaller crate with sweet treats for the children who lived in Castle Aeonir. As he loaded them onto the cart, a small smile spread over his lips as he fantasized about the squeals of joy he would hear.

The stonemasons guild had a storefront that he had visited in times past. Their artisans were like no other and he was welcomed in as a friend and familiar face. The amount of raw stone he would need for the planned repairs would require a sizable amount of the wealth he had just acquired. In that moment he was more than a little thankful for Eloise’s methods and squeezing some more coin out of their contract. It would provide new doors for the chambermaids, a patched hole in some of the living chambers and fortifications.

It also went towards paying for the rental of two additional carts to haul the raw materials back to his castle some three days' travel from Koris.

With his purse emptier than when he started the day, but his heart more full, he was finally ready to settle in for the last night in Koris. In the morning he would meet up with the masons to take possession of the additional carts and then set off for his home.

Daron left his cart outside the stone workers shop and promised to return in the morning. He would be a one man convoy. The figure that had been tailing him had watched him leave then step off to find an inn for the night. Once he was well out of sight the shadow crept into the stone shop.

Eloise threw back her hood and leaned against the counter while she waited for one of the artisans to come and talk to her. Her request was simple, and she made a small show of tossing a small but weighty bag of gold up and down in her hand. All she wanted to do was add something to the convoy, no questions asked. The unmistakable rattle of coins worked wonders to allow her honey sweet words to land on the right ears.

Long open stretches of empty roads never bothered Daron. He had lashed together the three carts under his watch, and all he needed to do was walk along the trade roads. The occasional passing family in transit, or larger convoy were his company. It suited him just fine. In the silence of travel, the crunch of his boots and horseshoes was a melody that soothed him. There was no one there to watchout for. His own back was protected by armor and skill, and he was content in that.

Soon though, the spires of Castle Aeonir loomed on the horizon. He could still clearly pick out one of the towers that had been blown apart by a wayward explosion set by saboteurs in an attempt to blind the castle guard to an oncoming attack. It had only worked for a short while, leading to a surprise attack that was repelled, but not without its losses. Some were good people, some were parts of the structure itself. Daron himself had overseen the burial of the dead in a place of honor. They would never come back, but the scars left by the attack could be fixed at least.

Daron cast a long look back at the crates and barrels, lumber and stone, that he hauled with him. It wouldn’t heal the scars left by those who had served and died, those who sacrificed everything to keep the people of Emberdale valley safe.

Finally arriving home had sent a surge of exhaustion through Daron. As if the threshold to his own castle possessed some form of magical cleansing that removed the fears of the outside world, the blood and the screams. All of it faded, though the price was his energy.

“Welcome home, my lord.”

The last part of the statement seemed like it had been tacked on as a means of obligation. The older woman's mature voice rang from Daron’s left side. Turning to look at her, Daron could only see the years of harsh winters, hot summers, sweat from hours in the training ring and the crows feet at her eyes that belied more smiles than most. In an instant he was in front of her and the two embraced as family, fellow warriors and long time friends.

“Auntie.” Daron murmured in reply and released her.

“All’s well I see. Supplies, goods and my favorite adopted child.”

Helene’s smile cracked her face and spread across her lips, radiating a caring love that few in the castle had.

When Daron’s mother and father had perished in the defense of the castle, and therefore the entire Emberdale Valley, Helene had been there to continue raising Daron. Though he was a young lad at the time, he still wasn’t an adult and still required a bit of guidance. Daron wasn’t exactly raised by her, nor was he actually related to her, but the endearing term of ‘Auntie’ seemed to transcend that fact. Likewise, Helen had been taken in by Daron’s family when the fires of war robbed her of her family and orphaned her.

Helene had been in and out of the castle as Daron was growing. She, like Daron was now, was a knights errant and had her fair share of adventure and sorrow beyond the walls of the castle. She never failed to make sure Daron saw her, and knew her, when she returned though. She was stubbornly determined to be something of a mother figure that the war had denied her. Daron, like her, was an orphan and she sought to alleviate those pains whenever she could.

As the pair strolled along through the castle environes, Daron and his convoy of supplies and Helene, still armored and ready. Daron smiled at every passing child who begged and pleaded for stories of monster slain, of daring adventures and harrowing escapes. Every maiden blushed and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked away from the handsome lord of their home. Every able bodied man nodded stoically and knew that with Daron’s return that the castle was that much more strong.

The keep was nestled towards the back of the castle, behind stables and living quarters for the residents there. A tall affair, bolstered by the barracks at the base of the stone building. He parked his convoy there and hitched the horses and mules, leaving them in the able care of the stable hands. His eyes were suddenly weary and he felt the immense weight of his armor and the expectations of the castle he stood in now.

Not the expectations of the people there, but a promise he had made to himself. His eyes darted around, looking at the damage that still lingered there. Chips in stones, walls that the supplies he brought home would fix, and smaller buildings that had been partially demolished. Buildings that could easily house more people, make them more comfortable, keep the rain off of their heads and warmth on their bones.

There was so much left to do, and Daron felt it was all on him.

He turned back to his keep, stepping into the heart of his castle and wandered the halls. He put on a smile, greeted the staff there and made his way into his private quarters. His own little tower on the back of the keep. Shedding his armor, he let the subtle coolness of the air left from the setting sun wash over him. Stepping onto the balcony, he rested his arms on the heavy stone railing and looked out.

To the right, a decent enough view of the courtyard. It was partially obscured by the battlements along the walls of the keep, but it was good enough. He could see his people milling about and saying their goodnights as they slipped into their humble but comfortable living quarters. Daron swept his eyes over to his view from the other side of his balcony.

Lake Ysilde yawned out in front of him, catching the last few rays of the sun and sparking like a field of jewels on its otherwise dark surface. Beyond that was the city of Jarin. Daron could just barely make out the distant beads of light as torches were lit along their own walls. A chilled gust of wind rose from the lake and washed over Daron and on instinct alone sucked in a deep, cleansing breath through his nose.

He was home, and it felt good.

Morning came far too early for Daron. The sun was mercifully not streaming into his tower, but that wouldn’t stop the gentle murmur of the world around him. The miles of travel, the fatigue of battle, and the weight of his day's tasks were waiting for him in his muscles as well. He argued, fervently with them, explaining that he had been away and deserved a day off. His body agreed, but his mind wouldn’t simply let him lavish in his tower all day, not while there was work to do.

A short while later, dressed casually and sporting his trademark longsword on his hip, Daron stepped into the early morning air. Everyone had their tasks, and knew to do them, leaving Daron to mostly make his own schedule. Which started with making sure his supplies were in order.

It was at this time that he discovered something he did not expect…

The convoy of sturdy wooden carts had been loaded with lumber, stone, and sacks. There was something else though. A long crate, as tall as Daron if it were lifted up, as wide too. As he looked over it he felt as if the whole thing were almost as large as a casket might be. His hand was on the hilt of his sword in an instant as he knew with some measure of certainty that he didn’t request something like this.

Slowly approaching the cart, he saw that, on the bottom of the heavy wooden crate, there was a sealed envelope with something scrawled on it. Peering at it, he recognized his name, then three distinct handwriting styles. He recognized those too. Hakenos, Tanila, and, of course, Eloise had all signed the envelope. The note inside was clearly written by Tanila, judging by the swooping and well practiced penmanship. The words were Eloise’s though, there was no doubt about that.

“Daron, words cannot express how much all of us appreciate you. Not just for walking alongside us and doing your damnedest to keep us safe, at your own expense I might add, but also for being the kind of friend everyone should have in their life. You’ve never asked for anything other than coin in return, and we know that even that was drained in service of making other lives better.

“So it is that we pooled our funds, including the extra we negotiated for from our last job, and got you something nice. It is just for you, and all of us, even Hakenos, sincerely hope you enjoy this gift.”

Daron looked up from the note, then around the stables. He expected to see his companions spring out from behind the walls and beams and smirk at him, but nothing happened, and no one was around. Even the residents of his castle seemed preoccupied with their daily lives. He was surrounded but alone with whatever was in the crate.

It was nailed shut, but the prybar and mallet on one of the other carts made short work of that and within a matter of minutes the nails were loosened enough that he could gingerly pull the wooden lid off of the large coffin sized crate. He managed to give himself a small splinter in the process, but it was off and that was all that mattered.

Inside, packed in fresh yellow straw was one large piece, swaddled tightly in silk cloth that clung to the very obvious curves of a feminine body. With furrowed brow, Daron wondered if his friends had commissioned a statue of someone for him. It wasn’t until he pulled away the fine cloth that he found the inert form of a woman laying in the crate.

Daron took a half step back, his head immediately swiveling left and right to see if anyone was looking before stepping back up to the crate. She hadn’t moved and after a moment of observation found that she was also not breathing. Blinking Daron took a moment to take her in.

Long hair, not quite snowy, but far lighter than anyone he had ever seen before clashed hard against the redness of her lips. He wasn’t sure if the intent was to make her look as if they were stained in blood, but he had seen enough blood in his life to know that it wasn’t the right color. Nor was it akin to rubies, it was just deeply maroon. By all accounts though she was beautiful in a strange ethereal kind of way, the same way elves carried themselves.

Leaning in he pulled back more of the sheet only to reveal that she was completely unclothed, at least her chest was. The sigh of well proportioned but bare breasts sent a flash of heat through his body. His heart was immediately racing and he could physically feel the heat radiating from his face. He quickly tossed the sheet back over her chest and once again looked around to see if he had been caught. Seeing that he had not, he formulated a new plan.

The silken sheet was tucked around her body again and the lid returned to the crate. Daron himself nailed in half a dozen of the nails and made sure it was all secure. It took him another few minutes to flag down someone he knew was strong enough to help him haul the thing up to his private quarters. Navigating spiraling stairs and corridors was a chore, but well worth it. Mercifully there were only a few questions which Daron easily deflected with a lordly “It’s personal” comment.

Once the box was in his room, the door closed, and bolted, Daron pulled up a stool, tucked his longsword to the side and sucked in a deep breath. Opening the crate again and fully pulling back the silk wrapping revealed the woman’s entire form.

She was every bit as beautiful as Daron had originally assumed. Slender and free of blemishes, while still looking as if her body was filled out and proper. Her chest full without being absurd like some of the serving maids he had come across in taverns. Hips slightly wider than he would have guessed given her frame. It wasn’t until his eyes flicked over her crotch that he noticed anything wrong.

It was only a brief glance at first, but the observation was clear. There was nothing there. Not that there was an empty voice, there was definitely a continuation of her skin from her pelvis, but that was all it was. After his eyes bounced off of that part of her body he had to blink once and then intentionally look back. A smooth piece of flesh covered the space between her legs where her womanhood would be. It was slightly dented inward, lending it the appearance that there was something there, but only in the most vague senses.

Perhaps it was curiosity, morbid or academic, but this was the catalyst for Daron to actually touch her. There was a certain amount of give to her skin, particularly on the spot between her legs. It felt as if there was some deeper opening just behind it, but there was no actual penetration. With furrowed brow he pushed a little harder and found that there was a limit to how far he could press the whole plate before it simply did not budge.

He pulled his hand back and looked back to her body, attempting to see if there were other anomalies that he hadn’t initially noticed. He felt his heart leap again as he found her eyes open and looking at him. The red tint to them felt unreal and he leapt back before turning away and stammering.

“I’m so sorry miss, I just. You seemed to. I’m so sorry, I’ll-”

“Are you my new owner?”

The question was spoken in a flat, calm tone. There was no accusation there, just a question. Nothing more, nothing less. Daron looked over his shoulder to her. She was sitting up in the crate, her expression expectant without accusation. She had asked a question and now was simply waiting.

“I’m- I think so. I..what are you?”

“A multi-purpose mechanical servant. Are you my new owner?”

Daron could only blink at that. This was..an automaton? He had heard of, and even encountered some of them in his travels. He knew that they came in a variety of forms, some more rudimentary, almost like the magical and alchemical golems, others were far more human. Some were completely indistinguishable from the biological people who owned them.

Daron found himself lost in thought for a moment and with a small shake of his head brought himself back to the present moment. His eyes met hers again, they were still unassuming and waiting.

“I- I suppose I am.”

She nodded and Daron could swear that there was a small, almost imperceptible flash inside of her eyes as she replied. A small crimson spark inside of her that fluttered and flickered and was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. She held out a hand to him, her palm down as if she were requesting help to get out of her crate.

“Please hold your hand against your servant’s to claim it.”

Daron’s brow furrowed for a moment. The words sounded so odd coming from someone who looked so perfectly human. Still, he reached out and gently took hold of her hand in his own.

“Are there any additional runestones for this servant?”

Daron didn’t know what that was but his eyes darted to the crate she was in and found other things in straw as well. Things he hadn’t noticed before as his eyes had drifted too quickly to her…to her figure.

There was a small box inside of the straw she had been packed in. A simple small chest with polished brass rivets and a well oiled hinge was stuffed in near where her head had been resting. Near her feet was a roughly rectangular canvas bag.

“Runestones?” Daron said, curiously reaching for the box inside of her crate, happy to have something else to focus his eyes on.

Even without looking at her, he could still imagine a smile on her face in his mind's eyes. There wasn’t a giggle as she spoke, but Daron could swear he almost heard it.

“They are in that chest. You can use them to customize how your servant functions.”

His eyes darted to her for only a moment as he opened the chest and found small items inside. Barely thicker than his thumb and several fit handily in the palm of his hand. As he pulled one free of the silky cloth that was packed around them, he held it up to the morning light streaming through the opened double doors that led to his balcony.

It felt like stone, of some kind, but certainly nothing like Daron had ever personally held before. Whatever it was made of seemed to shift in color as the light reflected off of its surface. As he stared at it he could see that there was a faint glow being emitted from the surface. Looking closer he could see that they weren’t simply floating on the thing, rather they were etched into the surface and the appearance of floating symbols was a trick of the light and angle of the weird little stone.

He could tell that there were runes marring the entire surface of the stone, though he had no clue what they meant. What he did know was that they were arcane, and more than that, ancient arcane. His time with Tanila had introduced him to some of the runic magic in the world. She had valiantly tried to teach him a few things and he had caught onto enough to recognize some of the basic symbols. Moreover, he had learned that there were regional dialects. The gnomes and dwarves used similar runes, elves used entirely their own, and as humans dipped their hands into the magical arts they seemed to combine all manner of runes into a new language.

These though. These were old. The edges of the etched marks were deep and smoothed around the edges. Ages of wear had somewhat smoothed off some of the sharper edges of the ragged little stones and the runes on it were very clearly some of the oldest dialects. None of which helped Daron identify them. He looked up from the item to the automaton and held one up. He opened his mouth to ask her what it was but she replied first.

“A runestone of life. An excellent choice.”

Daron tilted his head and looked from her to the stone and back. “What does it do?”

“Inserting that will allow your servant to grow to act more and more human as time passes and more knowledge is gained.”

“You won't act human without it?”

“No, this servant will only obey your commands and serve at a low level.”

Her tone was flat and lifeless, and there was something more. Daron only noticed it as she spoke, but she was constantly referring to herself as some kind of object.

“Do you have a name?” he asked as he poured the remaining stones into his hand.

“No.”

The simple response took him by surprise and he looked in the distance for a moment as he contemplated something. If she was going to serve him, surely she would be moving around the keep, and there would be questions. People would interact with her and she would learn from them. She couldn’t simply be called ‘the servant.’

“If I use this one.” He held up the stone that she had called a life stone. “Will you have a name?”

“If you give your servant a name, then yes.”

“How do I use this? Can you tell me?”

She took a step forward and stood up straight, her chest thrust forward. She was close and Daron felt a fresh surge of heat cross his body as he was suddenly reminded of how undressed she was.

“As the owner of this servant, simply place your hand here-” She tapped a finger once against her sternum. “And that will open the runestone receptacle. Simply insert it.”

It sounded so simple and yet so far beyond Daron’s comprehension. He was a well read gentleman, but magic and the arcane arts, and how they worked, was so far beyond simply learning a language and how to work it. It was like an ant attempting to understand why the heart of a human pumped blood in a different way than their own. Daron knew that it would work, of that he had no doubt, but he had no idea why or how and he wasn’t sure he would ever get those answers.

Still, he followed her instructions. As he pressed his palm into her chest he felt nothing but skin that was too cold. Then it began to glow, seemingly from within, with a soft blue light. Something just below her flesh began spreading warmth over an isolated part of her body. Her eyes slipped closed and as they did Daron felt her skin retracting below his hand. He pulled back and revealed that a portion of her chest had simply peeled back and revealed the source of the light.

A gently pulsing blue crystal resided inside of her chest, approximately where a human heart might be. Just below the lip of the revealed opening and slightly obscured by her remaining skin. There were other things inside of her too. Conduits with gently glowing runes on it, more of the rainbow colored stones all arranged in strange angles. Other things that were far beyond Daron’s comprehension but all of them seemed important to the automaton’s continued operation.

Directly below the opening was something made of metal, brass, stone, and thin silky threads. Set in the front were a number of small slots that looked to be the perfect size to insert one of the runestones in Daron’s hand. He looked down at the small, haphazard pile of stones in his hand and mentally berated himself for not paying more attention to which one was which. Not that he had any reliable way to distinguish them if he had known.

“Which one is the life runestone again?” He asked with a somewhat sheepish tone.

She tapped one of the stones in his hand and in response he lifted it and aligned it with one of the slots inside of her exposed chest. Glancing up at her for some form of confirmation and receiving only the same vague smile she had been wearing the whole time. Daron pursed his lips and pushed the stone into place.

She shivered slightly as it clicked into place and she let out the very smallest of gasps as whatever arcane life inside of her integrated something new into its weave. All at once she seemed to relax a little. Her shoulders slumped slightly and instead of standing at attention she shifted her weight to one side, letting her hip slide out to one side.

“Are you okay?” Daron asked with a measure of concern.

“Yes, your servant apologizes. That reaction is normal.”

Daron noddedand looked back to his hand.

“This one?”

“Cooking, cleaning, and domestic work.”

Daron figured that could be useful, inserted it and moved on, pointing to another one.

“Combat and tactics.”

That was enough to raise Daron’s eyebrows. He slipped the runestone into place inside of her, leaving a single slot open inside of her. There were more than one runestone remaining in his hand and he got the feeling that he might not want to over crowd her with new information. Something to make her more human and something to help him in defense of the castle seemed like a reasonable amount of information to start with. More could certainly be added later…he hoped.

“That’s it for now.” Daron muttered as he cupped his hand and let the remaining runestones tumble into the silk sack they had come from and cinched it tight. With a nod the automaton in front of him looked down at her chest as the artificial flesh reformed itself.

“Just a moment.” She said with a serene and almost distant tone in her voice.

Daron stood and observed, seeing her eyes flicker slightly with a deep red light for a moment and her body stiffen from its previous stance. She seemed to shiver and then suddenly shake as if a chill had jolted up her spine, and then she was suddenly relaxed again. A small smile spread over her lips as she took a moment to look down at her nude body and then back to Daron.

“Well well.” She muttered, causing Daron to blush again and avert his eyes.

“I- you weren’t dressed when I- I can get one of the serving girls to bring you-” He stammered.

“No need, there is a dress in the crate.” Daron heard the small sounds of rustling hay and the movement of cloth for a few more moments.

Once it stopped he ventured a look over his shoulder to see his automaton dressed in a simple, but still elegant gown. Silken and as smooth as her skin was, it was tied with a simple light blue sash with hard soled slippers. She looked as if she belonged among the other serving girls in the castle. Perhaps that was the intention, though the deeper than average neckline suggested otherwise. Still, it was easily dismissed, and she would blend easily into the residents of the castle.

“You mentioned a name?”

Even the tone of her voice was different now. Before it had been crisp and clipped. Her answers had been brief and to the point with little room for meandering. Now it was soft and inviting and Daron could feel her voice beckoning him to answer her.

“Yes, uhm, we can’t just have everyone calling you ‘servant’.”

“Why not?” She interrupted, her tone seemed so accepting of the title.

“Because that’s not what you are.” Daron replied. “You’re a resident of my castle and-”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it. He knew it wasn’t true. She was, at her core, just a thing. As much a tool as the sword on his hip or the candles burning low around his chambers. Or was she? She had, herself, told him that she would grow and learn and become more as time went on.

“-And?” She asked.

“And you’ll have a name.” He thought for a moment. “Fiora.”

She smiled at that. A small gesture, but coupled with her gently tucking away some of the platinum blond hair behind her ear, she suddenly became so much more human. She dipped her head gracefully.

“Fiora. I understand my lord.”

“Daron.” He corrected.

“Lord Daron.”

He wanted to correct her further, but let it slide. For now the appearance of being her lord was a perfect disguise for what she was.

“Then how may I serve you, my lord?”

Daron had almost forgotten what he was doing. The appearance of an automaton and the shock of seeing her nude and swaddled in a crate had stolen his agenda from his mind so keenly. He stood up straight and dug deep into his own mind. What had he been doing? Eyes darted back to Fiora, and more importantly what would she do?

“Tidy up in here for now, eventually some of the other serving girls will come in. Introduce yourself to them and follow along with them, learn what you can.”

A small head bow was all she needed to show to confirm that she had heard and understood Daron’s orders. As he stepped through the door and made his way back down to the courtyard he realized how much his words sounded more like orders that he would give soldiers in battle rather than a new serving girl. He planted a foot with the intention of turning back and apologizing, but the small gaggle of young girls swept past him, each one bowing their heads to him as they passed and heading for his room. They looked so young, and Fiora would look like a matron to them all when she walked with them. That was fine, and Daron would have to apologize later.

For now, there were walls that needed repair.

Daron set about hauling and working with a small but dedicated crew of carpenters and folks who had some experience with stone masonry. Repairing the wall was hard work, more so since most of the damage was done to the external surfaces. There was a significant portion of Daron’s day in the sun where he was helping to haul stones up and over damaged sections of the wall, only to help hold them in place against the outside of the wall while mortar and supports were wedged in place.

The hot sun was hung high overhead and Daron, like his compatriots, had opted to shed their shirts and let what small amount of cool air waft over their bare skin. Sweat poured from his body and he was beginning to feel the day of work deep in his muscles. He was so used to sword work and combat stances for the last few months that this work seemed to target every muscle he hadn’t used.

A chirping giggle from beyond the wall caught his, and everyone else's attention. Serving girls all holding pails filled with fresh, cool water drawn from the well. The gentle clank of a ladle inside only served to remind each one of them just how deep their thirst had become. Calling for a break in their labor was the right choice and Daron found himself sitting in the relative shade and coolness of a portion of the wall they had just finished rebuilding.

Looking at the group of serving girls, he could see more than a few eyes darting to the new woman among them. He could also see that their gaze started low, on her hips and traveled upwards. Sizing her up and taking her in. Not to speak ill of those who resided in his castle, but Fiora was clearly magnitudes more attractive than many of the wives and maids within the walls. There would be conversations tonight between wives and their husbands.

The smile on her face was so vibrant and nigh infectious. The other serving girls with her, though clearly a few years younger, already looked at her and laughed along with her. Some conversation had already happened and Fiora had clearly established something of a relationship with them.

As the others pulled a deep ladle full of cool water and let the men drink from it, Fiora made a bee line for Daron and squatted down to his level. His eyes were locked with hers, though he could feel the eyes on him from around the courtyard. He cupped the ladle in his own hands and brought it to his lips. He was never really one to be served like that. He could take care of himself. Draining it and feeling the spreading coolness inside of him and raising the ladle to her to take. All he could do was wipe the moisture from his mouth and lick quietly at the droplets that clung to his well trimmed mustache and connected beard.

Then it was time to get back to work, and with that Fiora moved quietly back to the group of serving girls. They would be wandering off to the mess hall kitchens to start the evening's supper. Stew of some kind surely, something simple he hoped.

Why, though?

As he hoisted another stone into place and waited for the masons to apply the mortar, he wondered. Why? Why would it matter if it was something easy or not?

Because that meant it would be easy for Fiora to pick up on. Something simple for her to learn.

Why would that matter?

“My lord?”

He snapped back and found that the mortar was in place and he was still straining against the stone unnecessarily.

“My mind must still be on the road.”

Daron laughed it off and continued on, more aware of what he was doing as he thought, but his mind still turned back to Fiora. He wanted her to be accepted. To integrate. Why?

Obviously because then it would raise less questions about where she had come from. There was no need to expose that, not yet at least.

Why should that matter? She was property, and he could do with her as he saw fit. So, again, why? Why did he want her to be successful?

It would be a question he would ponder on for the remainder of the day. Once the sun dipped below the peaks of distant mountains and ushered in the cool of night, he called for work to stop. The wall was repaired now, and with stones left he was already mentally planning to use some of it to bolster some of the other residences in his care. That would be a project for another day though, a point his angry belly reminded him was less of a priority than being fed.

He smirked, patted himself on the stomach once and announced that it must be time to tame a different kind of beast. A rousing cheer and slaps across the back, punctuated by laughter and agreement came with it. And so he made his way, with his countrymen to the dining hall.

A grand structure in the lower reaches of the main keep. It would house almost everyone. The serving staff had their own nooks for eating as they served their duty, though it was never with resentment. There had been no shortage of parties and celebrations that had occurred in this hall. When the oak tables had been pushed to the side and the floor opened. Dancing, singing, and deep drinking had led to an uncountable amount of late nights.

Daron’s entry into the hall caused a ruckus round of applause and cheers to arise from those in attendance and seated already. The sound arrived after the smell did. Something roasted, rich and deep and succulent. It was not simple or easy or, if the scent of it was any indication, plane.

Dinner was, as expected, incredible. There had been plans set in place long before Daron returned. There was singing, dancing, good conversation, and a feeling of genuine mirth as the castle celebrated the return of their lord. Helene sat next to Daron and clapped along with the songs and even managed to sing along to a few verses that she knew. Among the festivities Daron found himself lost in the celebration, so when Helene gripped his arm quietly and leaned in he was taken by surprise.

“That new serving girl seems to be a good addition.”

She ended the statement with a simple nod and wink, causing Daron to wonder what she meant, but the thoughts were swept away by another round of songs. In fact Daron would find that the rest of the evening's thoughts would bubble up and then be lost so quickly in celebration. A celebration that lasted long into the night. He soon began to wonder how long it would be before the sunrise caused all involved to ponder a new day.

And then he slipped into the comfortable sleep of his bed. He would never truly remember how the party ended, but he did remember collecting his sword and dragging himself to bed where he fell into comfort and the world faded.

The morning light was a rude awakening. It always was.

“Good morning my lord.”

The voice was unexpected and Daron was instantly awake. The dirk he kept within reach on his night table was in his hand and the blade flashing in an instant. Brandished in front of him as Fiora smiled down at him in pure serenity. So loud was the hammering of his own heartbeat inside of his ears that he only saw Fiora bow deeply and step back in fright. He never once heard her apologize to him, nor the very human quaking in her voice as if she feared for her safety. It took a moment of wide eyed staring for Daron’s mind to put away the urge to strike and instead see the reason in what he was doing, what he was holding, how he was standing, and who he was threatening.

“Fiora. I’m..I’m so sorry- I..I wasn’t expecting-”

He stopped, swearing that there must be a trick of light cast from the mid morning sunlight on her face. Surely she wasn’t shedding a tear out of fear, though her hands were clutched to her chest and the expression on her face was absolutely fear. Not fear as if her life was threatened, but more fear that she had wholly offended someone near and dear to her.

She bowed deeply again, her long white hair falling around her face to curtain her from his gaze. She stayed that way, quietly waiting, fearful that she might have done something so irredeemable that she would surely be returned to that gnome. She was afraid her future involved little more than standing upright and waiting for someone to have the coin to purchase her. Surely she would-

A warmth, the subtle pressure that was both pressing on her and gently beckoning her to rise appeared on her shoulder. The hand must have been her lord, who else could it belong to? She looked up, her eyes focusing in on the room around her and found that, indeed, her owner was there, hand on her back, and to her surprise, smiling at her. She rose, hands clasped against her body and looked at him.

She was not expecting the smile.

Her eyes darted to his hands. The blade he had held was gone, stashed somewhere else out of sight. His mouth quirked up at one side, making the as yet uncombed mustache and beard look a little ridiculous, though she dare not laugh at it.

“I’m so sorry. I’m not used to anyone being in my room when I awaken. It’s not normal for me.”

She bowed again “I’ll be sure to wait somewhere else then.”

“No no, that won’t be necessary. You’re welcome here, but, perhaps we should set up a comfortable place for you to sit where I can expect you to be. Would that be alright?”

“Of course my lord.”

The title was his, for certain, but it always felt like a sting when he heard it from someone new. He was just Daron, lord of the keep or not, he was just another person trying to do their best. Nobility was an ill fitting garment that was draped over his shoulders. Those responsibilities belonged to his parents, who by all rights should still be here. Taken too early from the world but lived on in local memory as heroes. Another weight on Daron’s shoulder was their legacy. No one had ever said so, but he knew that they expected equally great things from him.

A deep sigh and weakened smile accompanied Fiora’s rise. She stood up but took a small step back, distancing herself from him again and retaining the respectful and unspoken boundary between the two of them. She was, after all, only a servant in his house. She excused herself, bowing again, and swept out of the room before he had an opportunity to stop her. He trusted that she knew where she was going and would make herself known later.

It was only when he was left alone that he fully let his shoulders slump and fall back to the edge of his mattress. His head fell to his hands and he breathed out, hard. He was more ashamed of himself than anything else. He knew he was home, and safe, and Fiora had done nothing. She had surprised him, and that was all. He wondered how damaged he was that a petite woman in his room was enough to drive a shard of fear into his heart.

The soft knock on his door stole his attention and he called for whoever it was to enter. He half expected Fiora, while the other half was to expect his usual serving girl to enter and present breakfast and morning drink. Helene was an unexpected arrival on his doorstep.

“A word, if you have a moment.” She said softly into the room.

Her tone was unexpected. Daron had known her as a formidable warrior, the captain of the guard in his castle..the castle that stood as a bastion of protection for the valley beyond. She could be a hard woman, and she often was. This, though, was something different. This was a voice that family used when speaking to one another on equal ground.

Daron’s nod brought her from the doorway and into the room where she joined him on the edge of his bed. She put an arm around him and pulled him into a small squeeze for a brief moment.

“Fiora.” She said before waiting a moment, letting Daron’s mind catch up. “She isn’t a human, is she?”

Daron shook his head, unsure of how Helene had so quickly discovered what Fiora was. As if she could hear his thoughts with her waking ears she replied.

“I have seen her kind before. I know of them.”

“As have I.” Daron confirmed.

“Do you know how to nurture one?”

His puzzled look let her know all she needed to.

“I don't rightly know much myself. I know they are purely arcane, and require attention in certain ways. Gnomes and Elves and wizards could tell you more, and I suggest you seek their wisdom on how to care for her.”

A slow, deliberate nod was all the response she got. She nodded in return, slapped her hands onto her knees and pushed herself up to standing. A moment later she stooped to pick up Daron’s sword belt and drew his sword.

“This is a good sword, you know.” She held it up and drew Daron’s attention. “Sturdy, well constructed. It’s served you well. You’ve clearly taken care of it too. Oiled it, sharpened it, used it for good.”

She resheathed it.

“If you take good care of the things you’ve been given, then they’ll serve you well for years and years. Your sword has a few chips in it, and the handle is wearing out a little, but it’s just right for you. Isn’t it?”

A confused look crossed his face.

“You’ve been given a tremendous gift, you should take care of it.” Helene said as she stood in the doorway, her back to her adopted nephew. “Fiora isn’t the sword, Daron, you are.”

Her last look was at Daron, through Daron, deep into his very core. Who he was, who he thought he was. The door closed and Daron was alone again. He felt like a child again, being told that he might have made a mistake but it wasn’t something that he couldn’t correct. Helene was guiding him rather than handing him an easy answer.

He dressed, changing into fresh clothes and strapping his sword belt back around his waist before walking out into the morning light on his balcony. Today would be a day of relaxation. After the work yesterday and the party last night everyone deserved it. He let out a breath and looked over to the courtyard of his own castle, and saw more activity than he expected.

Some of his people were simply milling about, trying to live their normal lives in slow motion after the amount of beer they had drained the night before. Others were simply in the courtyard discussing things with friends and other residents. And somewhere in the middle of it all was a small grouping of people, centered around the newest addition to the castle. A white haired beauty, her hair catching and throwing the light all around her like some kind of radiant halo.

Her head was tilted to one side, lending her a look of curiosity as she spoke with a small cluster of young girls. They were braiding one another's hair. Fiora was just observing and asking gentle questions and the answers she received seemed to only spark more questions. Daron watched for a moment or two as she asked, observed, asked again, got an answer, asked another question and then simply slipped into getting a full demonstration.

He didn’t even realize he was smiling as she settled down onto the ground, a fleet of young girls swarming around her. Two were sitting in front of her, demonstrating the simple process of separating hair into three strands, crossing one over the top of the other and repeating it. All while her own hair slowly formed into a thin, tight braid of its own and tied in place with a ribbon red enough to match her eyes.

Daron lost track of how long he stood there, soaking in the warm mid-morning sun, just watching. Fiora eventually had a number of braids, none of them matched, all of them administered by one of the girls, each tied in a new color of ribbon. After a while she seemed to catch on and ventured an attempt at braiding one of the girls' hair. Even Daron could see that it was an admirable attempt, but it was far from perfect. It fell out of the girl's hair almost immediately.

Fiora was undeterred though. She tried again, then again, and again. Soon, her hands and fingers moved smoothly. Strands of hair appearing one over the other in tight and easy weaves. Soon she had managed to append a number of braids to each and every one of the girls who had taught her that very skill and ended with all of them laughing and parading around her.

As they did so, Fiora ventured a look up at Daron, who was still on his balcony, simply observing the goings on. He was fully unaware of the smile that had appeared on his own face, and when Fiora looked up and smiled brightly and waved, he was equally unaware of the touch of pink that appeared on his cheeks. Still, he smiled royally in return, raised a hand and waved at her. He continued to watch her until the cluster of girls around Fiora took her hands and pulled her to her feet and seemed to dance away with her, taking out of Daron’s field of view.

Disappointment, mild but prominent, swept over the young lord and he was once again left asking why. Fiora was only a servant and more than that literally just a tool in his castle. Why then did he feel so compelled to see her again? Sucking in a deep breath his mind swirled with that question and in an attempt to escape it his own mind turned to Helene’s words, which did little to soothe him.

The remainder of the day passed in peace. Daron spent a considerable amount of time at his writing desk laying out plans and processes for more repairs. Somewhere in the late afternoon one of the other serving girls brought him a tray of meats, cheeses and bread on a platter along with a pitcher of water fresh from the well, and as she set it down Daron had a moment of clarity on something he had promised Fiora.

“Excuse me.” He muttered as she turned to leave. “You know the reading chairs in the library?”

“Of course my lord.”

“Find two able bodied boys to bring one of them up here to me.” He ordered before adding as a quiet afterthought.. “The most comfortable one you can find.”

She dipped her head and retreated from the room, leaving Daron alone again. He had almost forgotten the request when the sound of grunts and shuffling preceded a gentle knock on his door. It was the chair he had requested, stacked on top of it was an ottoman. The wooden frame was clearly old and used, judging by the multitude of scuffs and scrapes on it, but the cushioned fabric was well maintained at least. More than that though, it looked deeply comfortable, the kind of chair that one would sit in and then wait for a moment or two as you sank deep into it.

“Perfect, over there, in the corner.” Daron instructed, indicating one of the corners of his room that was clear of most of the clutter and furniture. Tucked away just on the other side of a freestanding wardrobe, and only a matter of a few feet from the doors leading to his balcony. As the two young boys set the chair in place and bowed before asking if there was anything else, Daron noted that the corner was almost perfectly suited as a very comfortable reading nook. He gave his thanks and dismissed the two boys and looked at the new arrival.

It was missing something though. Daron sat down on the large wooden crate Fiora had arrived in that he had yet to remove from his large chambers. What did it need? He stared for a moment before rising and pulling a thin blanket from his bed and tossing it over the arm and back of the chair. Better, but not quite. A small round marble topped side table was added from elsewhere in his room. He nodded, it was almost there, though no matter how hard he looked around his room he found that what it needed wasn’t there, until suddenly it dawned on him.

He dressed himself, choosing to remain somewhat casual while still remaining regal. A white ruffled shirt, buttoned up and tucked into a pair of breeches and simple leather boots. His sword strapped to his hip and his shoulder length hair pulled back into a simple tail on the back of his head. With that, he swept out of his room and made his way, with purpose, to the library. Once there, he set about browsing the shelves, occasionally pulling a book from the shelves and tucking it under his arm. He took his time, weighing possibilities, until he had a half dozen thick volumes with him, then he returned to the room. Stacking them on the table next to the chair, that same small smile spread over his lips.

He didn’t have long to wait. The chill in the air had forced his hand and he had lit a fire in the hearth, which by now was burning low as Fiora rapped lightly on the heavy wooden door to his suite. Daron was at his own desk when the sound shook him away from his maps and back to the present. He called to whomever was at the door to enter and looked over his shoulder.

The opening between the door and the jamb was miniscule, and somehow Fiora managed to slip easily between it. So graceful that her simple peasant’s dress didn’t seem to even brush against the wooden frame, and then she was there and the door was silently closed. Only in that moment did Daron realize how dark it was outside, how deep into the evening he had sat there at his desk, worrying and fussing over repairs and tasks, and how cold the room had become.

Fiora stepped to the small wood pile and tossed a fresh log onto the fire and hoped that it would catch before turning back to Daron. With the fire beginning to rise behind her, the light did wonders to silhouette her and give her something of an ethereal radiance. The braids in her hair had fallen over the course of the day, but still loosely held their place, almost as if she thought someone would be offended to take them out. With hands folded in front of her, she looked at her owner, and he, in turn, looked back at her. It wasn’t entirely clear to Daron, but he sensed that there was something wrong with the automaton.

“My lord.” She began, earning a small reaction from Daron. “I- I need to replace my power source, and, I’m sorry to inconvenience you, but I’ll need assistance in changing it.”

She refused to meet his eyes, and for the first time the lord of the castle detected a bit of fluster on her cheeks instead of his. His small, amused smirk should set her at ease, but he understood that there seemed to be some delicacy needed for this. Daron knew that, at least for now, she was still just a mechanical thing that was person shaped. He didn’t see her that way, she was already more than just that and he knew that on some level all magic had a personality. Fiora was fueled purely by magic so there had to be some form of will in there somewhere, which elevated her beyond a mere object in his castle.

“Of course. What can I do to help?”

The pink on her cheek intensified as her hands began to wring themselves in a nervous kind of fidget. She bit gently into her lip and managed to finally look up at her lord.

“It..It will require me to..to disrobe and open up a bit more. You’ll- You’ll need to put your hand on me like you did with the runestone and take out my power crystal and place a new one inside of me.”

The words spilled out and Daron, conceptually, understood what she needed, though the specifics of it were still above his level of knowledge. What he did understand was the idea that she would need to undress in order to do whatever was needed. Not that nudity, or even her nudity bothered him, but at least he was prepared for it now.

“Where can we get these crystals?”

“Were there none sent with me? When..when you purchased me?”

Daron blinked at that and glanced over at the wooden crate that still lay open and unmoved. Right where it had been when she was brought into his chambers the day before. He hadn’t bothered to move it out yet, nor had he actually searched it for anything else. He took this opportunity to rise from his desk and shuffle through the packing straw and reveal another small burlap sack, clinking with something clearly crystalline inside of it, and just below it was some kind of rounded device that looked as if it needed some kind assembly to use.

Daron was careful to pull all the pieces out as Fiora looked on, patiently waiting, never moving from her position in front of the fireplace.

Daron seemed to perk up all at once and moved from the crate to the small reading corner he had set up. Placing the round disk on the table next to the pile of books he turned back and beamed at Fiora.

“I forgot, I set this up for you. Just a little place for you to call your own. We don’t have an abundance of spare room in the castle, so I thought you could stay here.” He gestured to the chair and table.

The fidgeting hands in front of Fiora rose to clutch at her chest for a moment as she looked over the cozy little corner. It looked out into the room with a perfect view of Darons bed and writing desk, though it would be easily obscured by his wardrobe from someone standing in the doorway. If someone wanted to see her, they would need to fully step into the room before they could see her.

“That’s- for me?” her voice wavered.

“All for you, no one else. Even me.”

“Just..just for me? But..but why?”

“You deserve a place to call your own. Until some better arrangements could be made for you.” Daron confirmed.

She took a step forward, away from the fire and towards her corner. Her eyes never strayed from the rich red cushions or the fine wood grain on the rounded table. Soon her and Daron were standing shoulder to shoulder next to the chair. Her eyes darting over everything, taking in the colors and textures, the stack of books and the gold leaf words on the spines. It was all for her.

“Do you like it? I can move it-”

“I love it. Thank you my lord. You’re too kind to me.”

That seemed to strike, strangely at Daron’s heart. She sounded so sincere about it, while still remaining oddly distant. Like there was some entity on the other side of a portal screaming into the void and only the barest whisper of intent made it through. Still, he was thankful she was pleased with it. With a sigh of relief he wasn’t aware he was holding, he turned to the device on the table.

“Do you know how to construct whatever this is?”

Fiora snapped out of the trance-like stance she had been wrapped in. Her arcane field mind had been busily absorbing every last detail about her only possessions. With the refocus on the present question she managed to conjure the information needed.

Together her and Daron assembled the device. The silvery platter that made up the base had a sturdy rod that rose up the length of a hand before connecting to another, smaller disk. Etched into the upper disk were a number of runic symbols and arcane marks, none of which appeared to be even remotely familiar to Daron. Fiora had taken the small sack and emptied into her hand two oblong crystals. While in her hand they emitted a small glow, Daron saw no such glow while he held them, though the faintest vibrations of magical potential were easily felt.

Once it was assembled, Fiora blushed again and sucked in a deep breath.

“Are you ready?”

“For what?” Daron asked.

“You need to open me up, and swap one of the crystals inside of me with one of those.” She gestured to one of the crystals humming in Daron’s hand.

“Oh. Right, yes of course. These power you? Give you the ability to move around, right?”

She nodded and without further prompting unfastened the sash around her waist and shrugged out of the dress she wore. The silky fabric fell off of her body as easily as water would, leaving her standing in a crumpled pile of cloth.

“Place your hand here” She said flatly.

Daron had to take a moment to take her in. He had been so shocked the last time he had seen her in the nude that he could only recall glances and flashes of skin. Now though, she was willingly presenting herself to him and he was prepared for it.

She was immaculate. His previous thought about his companions commissioning a statue might have been accurate, as she looked to be purposefully built to be ideally attractive. Fair skin, perfectly firm and rounded breasts that were proportioned specifically for her slender and petite form. Flowing curves at her hips and legs that looked soft but clearly hid some kind of power just below the skin. His eyes snapped to where one of her fragile looking fingers tapped on her abdomen.

With a stoic nod he pressed his palm against her belly and once again felt the icy coldness of her skin against his palm. A small glow appeared below her skin as Fiora let her eyes slip closed and a small sigh escaped her lips. In an instant a small swarm of intricate glowing lines appeared across her torso, each one underscored by small arcane symbols. One down either side of her chest and abdomen, another streaking across her collar bone while another cut a flowing line across her lower belly, just above the hips. The last to appear ran from the center of her throat down to her lower belly.

With another gasp, Fiora dipped her finger into the arcane seam between her breasts and tugged outward, causing Daron to take a half step backwards. The room, previously lit only by the fire and candles, was now gently illuminated in a swirl of colors, all issuing forth from inside of Fiora.

As Daron’s eyes adjusted to the influx of light he could see that her chest had been split in half and were now hovering mere inches away from her body, tethered in place by threads of light that seemed to shift in hue depending on what angle they were viewed from. As his eyes traveled from her opened chest into the components inside of her, he slowly realized just how complicated the automaton was.

She was packed full of mechanism of some kind or another, tucked behind a dull gray looking ribcage. Each one criss crossed with arcane symbols and glowing runes. Some small and strung together, others seemed to be a prominently displayed single or double rune. Each one pulsed with light at its own rhythmic pace. Silvery strands of magical energy connected each one and at the center of it all was, what Daron assumed, was some kind of core mechanism.

Housed in a metallic casing. Not so much a cage, but more of a mechanism to harness and direct the energy of the crystal at its core. It was much larger than the small ones that powered her, and didn’t pulse like the other moving parts inside of her, rather it gently grew and fell with an internal light. It looked to Daron almost as if it were breathing. The small moving parts and pieces that were arrayed around it served some purpose and Daron felt more than a little mesmerized at the gentle beauty of how everything worked with one another while still remaining their own contained ecology.

Fiora worked her arm around one of her floating chest panels, and tapped something inside of her, just to one side, approximately where a human heart would be located. It was hidden below the gray ribcage, but as Fiora pressed in on her sternum, even that split and opened like her outer chest had. Once they were out of the way there was a small lockbox with a small turn latch on it.

“You’ll need to open this. Take out the crystal and replace it with one of these.” She gestured at one of the small crystals in Daron’s hand. “And just be forewarned, I’ll be down once you remove it.”

Daron found her voice to be sleepy now, starting to sound more like whispers than spoken words. He nodded and with all the confidence he could muster, reached into her open torso and turned the latch. Looking to her for some form of confirmation that what he was doing was right, all he found was Fiora’s half-lidded eyes looking back and accompanying small smile. Opening the small cover found a similar looking crystal inside, held in place by faintly glowing tendrils of magic.

So small was the space that he was forced to pinch the crystal with his thumb and forefinger to pull it out. Once he did though there was an immediate reaction. Fiora’s body slumped slowly back into the chair, with her eyes fully closed and her head lolling to one side. Once glowing runes and arcane symbols faded to darkness inside of her. The crystal at the very core was still gently pulsating, though it seemed somewhat weaker now. He set aside the crystal he had extracted and gently pushed a new one into place, not knowing what to expect now.

Once the new crystal was inside of the casing, those same magical tendrils wrapped around it and almost pulled it into place. A fresh flush of energy flowed through Fiora and she sucked in a deep breath through her nose and then let it seep back out. As she did everything inside of her seemed to reignite and glowed brightly again.

Daron looked up in time to see Fiora smiling, eyes still closed and almost cooing softly.

“Thank you, my lord.” She said in a dreamy tone.

In the next few moments Fiora pushed her opened ribcage back into place and then the floating outer chest pieces. Once they met again the glowing lines of runic magic bound and twisted her flesh back together and she once again looked whole. She seemed to snuggle down into place in her chair and seemed to be enjoying a cozy warmth that only she felt for the moment. Soon though she stood and pulled her gown back on, though decided to forego the sash for the moment.

She picked up the empty crystal and slipped it into the space between the upper and lower disks on her side table. As she put it in place the symbols etched into the top disk began to glow and a nearly invisible thread of translucent magical energy connected the crystal to the disk. Fiora explained to Daron that this would slowly siphon off some of the natural magic from the world around them and pour it into the crystal, quite literally. He watched as a physical droplet of magical energy formed and then slid down the thread into the crystal. Every few minutes another droplet would appear and drip into the slowly swirling crystal, causing it to glow slightly more with each droplet.

It was explained that Fiora, depending on how much strenuous work she did, would need to do this same process every other day. If the work took a lot out of her it might need to be a nightly routine, and unfortunately, he would need to be involved every time. She could extract the crystal herself, but once it was out of the harness she would be useless to insert a new one. A fact that Daron was graciously happy to do for her.

Days turned to weeks which melted into months. Almost two and a half to be precise. To Daron’s recollection no one in the castle grounds seemed to have picked up fully on what Fiora really was. There were surely some rumors about why she spent every night in Daron’s room, no doubt, and he had done nothing to squash those rumors. Logically if there was some kind of small and insignificant scandal with little to no true information about it, then people would gossip about that instead of theorizing that Fiora was a machine.

In that time though, Daron could easily see the growth in her. When Fiora had mentioned that the Runestones would help her grow and evolve all those months ago, he had envisioned some small changes. Fiora had grown explosively though.

The small stack of books he had laid out for her all those weeks ago were quickly consumed. Fiora had read and reread them at least twice before she mentioned to her owner that she was done with them and enjoyed them. The tales of regional heroes and thrilling adventure chronicles were replaced with political theories and stories of political intrigue. Those were then replaced with books on theory and philosophy. Daron found that Fiora didn’t seem to have a preference for what she read, she simply liked to take in all the knowledge provided to her. It was something that Daron had not expected.

He considered himself more a man of action than theory, but he couldn’t help but smile at her. She was enraptured by anything she read, to the point where on more and more occasions Daron would join her. He would sit on his bed with his own journal, rereading his old entries and then eventually began reading along with some of the volumes Fiora had finished. She would be in her little corner, gently humming some tune to herself that she picked up from the other serving girls, turning page after page. Sometimes Daron found himself only glancing at the page in front of him, preferring to look at her.

The flickering candles casting dancing lights across her ethereal form. The light playing tricks on the lily white skin and shimming over her equally whitened hair. Fiora had begun wearing her hair in a long, thick braid ever since she had learned how to style it herself. Daron noticed that most of the small habits she had picked up from various members of his house were quickly and permanently integrated into her daily routines.

It wasn’t uncommon to hear her humming and eventually singing along with the other residents. Nothing so organized as a chorus, but a gentle tune would often be heard wafting on the breeze and as she passed along and bowed to her fellows they would join in where they could. The children seemed to follow in her stead and provide a giddy and often off tune backup. Laundry was done with the other serving staff and all the more cheerful because of Fiora’s presence.

As the mid-summer sun hadn’t yet risen, Daron slipped out of bed. Fiora was still sleeping, or whatever approximation an automaton like her would do in the middle of the night. He dressed in field gear and as always belted his sword to his hip. Today though, he had plans for he and Fiora. Usually there was a simple routine she would follow, and today that routine would change.

He managed to slip out of the room and down to his barracks and back before she had woken, though her eyes did flutter open as he closed the door behind him. Held in his arms were two wooden training swords. The weight and balance on them wasn’t perfect, but that was alright, they would be fine for a beginner like Fiora. Wrapped around the swords were a pair of breeches he hoped would fit her well enough and a shirt that would offer more mobility, or at least less hindrance, than her gown.

“Good morning. Ready for something new?” Daron asked, the smile his voice carried was apparent.

“Always” she replied and seemed instantly awake.

Tossing the bundle onto the foot of his bed, Daron gestured to it and Fiora looked to him and smiled brighter than the sun that was cresting the horizon. She practically skipped to the bed and investigated what was there. Her smile never faded, but added to it was a look of curiosity.

“We put in that combat and defense runestone, and like all the people in my care, I’ll require you to know how to fight should the need arise.”

There was no real bite in the statement. It had been years since there was any kind of attack on the kingdom, the last time anything had breached the walls of the castle Daron’s parents had-

“I’ll be personally instructing you. We’ll start and end our day with some sparring exercises.”

The smile turned quickly to a smirk.

“Until I can best you?” She giggled and Daron raised an eyebrow at that.

“One thing at a time.”

Fiora’s pure smile returned and she dipped her head before reaching down and pulling her gown off with no hint of shame. Daron, true to his nobility, averted his eyes and turned away to allow her some privacy. She was dressed again in a matter of a few moments and was already holding the mock sword in her hands when Daron turned back to her.

Within the hour Daron and Fiora were in the center of the small packed dirt pit in the barracks. Daron was gently chanting and moving slowly through a series of forms. As he counted off he demonstrated and Fiora followed along. In no time at all Fiora was smoothly rolling through the forms and Daron approved as small beads of sweat began forming on his forehead.

It would be another week of morning and evening practices before Daron offered to spar with her. Even then it was slow and methodical, clacking wooden blades against one another in a controlled sequence. The crowds had gathered as the week progressed. One on one training with Daron, the undisputed master of the craft within the walls of the castle. But it was Fiora, sweet, innocent girl that she was. Her time there had earned her a reputation of being unrelentingly cheery and the thought of a real blade in her hand was almost unimaginable.

Still, as the pair squared off she seemed to be a natural at the movements. Her control over exactly where the blade went was unparalleled. Daron knew why, and it made sense. Whatever mechanical and arcane contraptions inside of her arms and shoulders moved that wooden sword, they were precise to a fault. Whoever had made her, gnomes, elves or otherwise had made sure that she always moved with purpose.

Not wanting to lose face just yet, Daron began to pick up the pace and Fiora had little trouble matching that pace, at least to a point. Where the automaton had precision and speed in spades, Daron was human and didn’t have to follow the expected flow of combat. So when he feigned a strike and instead spun back on his heel and swept his leg out, Fiora’s feet were swept from under her.

The yelp she made as she fell to the ground was almost as cute as the small sound she made when she hit. The swear words were less cute, but more than appropriate, and ended the sparring session. The eruption of cheers from the onlookers stole the scowl from Fiora’s lips and replaced it with a barely contained laughter. She took the hand offered to her and was hoisted back to her feet where she began brushing the dust and dirt from her rump.

So it went. Training in the morning, a routine that even Daron had to admit was becoming more and more of a challenge for him, and then back to daily routines. Fiora would do the chores she had been doing all along, and Daron would continue his duties as lord of the castle. There were dignitaries he would entertain, plans for repairs and more improvements to mull over. Evenings, Fiora and Daron would meet back in the barracks, and begin sparring. The young lord had to admit that he was enjoying himself in those times.

Fiora’s improvement was exponential. Where Daron had trained others for weeks upon weeks with only marginal improvement, Fiora was already at a level where he would pit her against any of the trainees, and that gave him a moment of thought. He wanted to do something for her, but it would take time. Not that there was a shortage of it, though.

As Daron sat at his desk in his quarter, sketching and making notes for himself he heard the door behind him creak open. A small exhale drew a small smile to his lips.

“Long day?” He asked as Fiora practically fell into her chair. She had taken to wearing the breeches and shirt more than her gown these days. As she settled into place, she slumped a bit and exhaled again before turning her eyes to Daron.

“Yes my lord-”

“I told you not to call me that.” he said with a small wave of his hand. He knew she did it intentionally too. They had had a conversation about his title. In front of the other residence it was fine, but in private it was more grating than anything. The small giggle she let out only confirmed that it was intentional.

“I’m ready for a fresh crystal.” She muttered.

Daron looked over, her eyes were only half open and her voice sounded, for lack of a better word, sleepy. He had seen her like this before, when her power crystal ran low on arcane energy she seemed to regress a bit. Her reactions slowed, her body moved sluggishly and she seemed to mentally shut off those things that were unneeded.

“Right, arms up.”

Fiora barely complied, taking a lazy moment to let her arms drift up and once they were out of the way, Daron pulled her top off. With practiced deftness he pressed his palm into her body and then pulled back the chest panels. The blue arcane threads that tethered them to her torso were barely visible and clearly weak. He plucked the crystal from inside of her and watched as her head slumped back and her small movements ceased fully.

He slipped the crystal into the refilling station where a new thread of magic took hold of it and began pouring energy back into it. Taking a fresh one and then slotting it back into place seemed to fully refresh those arcane threads and waken Fiora again. She let out a breath and gladly took over the process of closing her chest and redressing herself before straightening herself up in the chair.

“So, had a fun little conversation today.”

That drew his attention away from the parchment in front of him. Fiora rarely talked about what she had talked about unless she was specifically asked about it. Still, Daron raised an eyebrow and let out a small grunt for her to continue.

“The girls wanted to know what you were like.” She giggled and winked.

“They still think you’re my private maiden i see.”

“Not any more.”

Daron tilted his head and furrowed a brow at her.

“I told them I wasn’t really capable of that type of thing. I just didn’t have what it took. So, of course, they didn’t know what that meant so I explained to them that I’m an automaton and not a real person, and that I didn’t have any of the right pieces for any of that kind of behavior.”

Daron wasn’t sure how long he sat there, gobsmacked, by how casually Fiora shattered the illusion he had tried to maintain. Not that he was angry over it, not yet at least.

“-And how did they take that?” Daron asked, attempting to keep his fear away from his voice.

Fior shrugged. “They were interested for sure, and there were so many questions, gosh they wouldn’t stop. So I spent most of my day talking about myself. You know how much I hate doing that.” She giggled and rolled her eyes before beaming at him.

“They weren’t upset or anything. They didn’t react..poorly?”

“Not at all, they are good people, clearly. They have worked alongside me for long enough that they know what I’m about. Just one of the girls. No one seems to care that i'm more magic and mechanisms than flesh and blood, so long as the work gets done.”

Daron sat back in his chair, letting out the breath he had subconsciously been holding, and with that breath a heft of the fear that had been clutched in his heart. Fiora was different, on so many levels. She wasn’t human, not even biological, but there was something else there. She was so unflappable and always optimistic. Daron, in that moment, began to have a dawning realization about how different the two of them really were.

And yet, they so easily complimented one another.

Where he knew he was somewhat dour when left to his own devices, he was now rarely alone. His room used to be where he went to sulk when the day was hard. Now it was where Fiora was, and she was always a radiant presence in his life. The weight of his sword weighed down on his belt, but today it felt a little lighter because Fiora was here and she was rapidly becoming a deadly force. Between himself, Helene, and Fiora he felt some measure of pity for anyone who might try and breach those walls again. She made him see all that was good in the world, and see it in abundance.

Daron smiled, and for the first time in a long time it felt so genuine. He could almost feel the years of hardship cracking and falling off of him. It was only one less thing to worry about, but it was something good and pure, and he couldn’t help himself.

“Good.” He commented at last.

Life carried on as it always had from there. Daron and Fiora sparred and trained and in response her combat and tactics runestone filled up. He couldn’t help but notice that at a certain point she was beginning to match him. He still had plenty of tricks to use on her if need be, they were dirty and underhanded, but in the heat of battle they were what was required. He also realized that the weight and balance of the wooden training sword they were using would become a hindrance. She needed something real, to hold actual steel.

Four weeks later the mid afternoon knock on his door brought a courier to him. It was a simple letter which spoke of the completion of something he had requested a while back, when Fiora was still learning. She had grown so much since then. As it happened, that evening the pair of them found themselves on the balcony as the sun was setting. The sky painted in a wash of colors that seemed to be not only reflected but amplified in Fiora’s eyes. The pair looked out over the lake and towards the city beyond.

The distant sparks of light leapt to life as lamp lighters around the city illuminated streets with oil lamps along the cobbled streets. Houses along the waterfront breathed to life as warm fires were ignited in hearths and the whole of the city began to glow like some distant arcane torrent.

Fiora sighed and smiled as she looked out at it. Her chin resting comfortably in her hands as she leaned forward over the rail. The warm evening had demanded her gown and not the stuffy tightness of her training clothes. The gentle breeze played at the hem of her gown and sent it flowing. Daron, standing upright and looking stately, looked out at the lake and only occasionally glanced at Fiora. His eyes always sliding over her curves before darting away.

“It’s so beautiful.” Fiora said, her voice dreamy.

Daron’s eyes had been on her when he grunted. He knew what she meant and it wasn’t the same thing as him.

“Do you want to go there?” Daron asked, nudging his chin towards the city.

“It’s a little late for that isn’t it?”

“We have a weekly caravan that takes goods and produce to the city. We have a whole stall set up in the market. It leaves in two days if you would like to ride along.” Daron remarked.

Then there was another cooling silence. Both looked out at the lake and the distant city beyond. The last rays of the sun casting its last gift across the lake. It sparked like so many twinkling stars across the surface of the still water. The occasional ripple distorted the light just enough to make the shifting sea look alive.

“How do you feel about boats?” Daron asked.

Fiora turned to him, seeing him staring out at the water, unmoving and holding firm to his question. It wasn’t so odd, but it was certainly unexpected to Fiora’s arcane fueled mind.

“I’ve never been on one. At least never while awake.” She replied.

Daron turned to her and held out a hand to take hers. She obliged with a curious smile, completely unaware of what he had in mind.

“Care to take a small trip out onto the lake then?”

Fiora smiled with an equal brightness to the sinking sun and nodded eagerly. So as long shadows crept ever further into the castle walls, Daron and Fiora stole away through the cool evening and down to the small marina at the rear of the castle. There were guards there who simply saluted or nodded at the lord of the castle and let him carry on. Even going as far as to help untie the small rowboat and offer a hand to help the lady into it.

Daron had little trouble with the oars. The movements were easy and practiced to him, though not nearly as fluid as his sword play. His powerful muscles strained against the water every time they dipped into it, but the small boat was propelled into the lake with ease. There was little conversation to be had as Daron strained against the oars. Fiora, for her part, was enamored by the simple feeling of the cool breeze that curled up from the water and breathed softly into the night air.

The crystalline look of the setting sun was replaced by the enclosing darkness and by the time the pair had made enough progress into the lake, the moon was beginning to materialize in the night sky.

Pulling the oars up and out of the water one last time, Daron oriented them along the hull of the small rowboat and settled them into place inside. They drifted onward for a few moments longer until they naturally came to a rest. The natural subtle churn of the water below them would keep them gently rocking and slowly circling, allowing Fiora to slowly take in a full panorama of the still lake.

It was quiet, secluded, and peaceful. So hastily had they left the castle on Daron’s whim that it wasn’t until just now that Daron realized he was not only unarmored, but unarmed as well. There were no plates of boiled leather over his chest, no braces on his arms and no blade at his hip. The realization washed over him, but in an instant it was gone. In the next instant he had a new revelation.

He didn’t feel a need to have those things. Here, on the lake, alone with Fiora meant there was no need for it. Daron was familiar with the sensation of weight being lifted from his shoulders. Every time he doffed his usual armor there was a release. Unbelting his sword and letting it rest freed his hips from the weight of it. And now, alone in the moonlit boat on a quiet lake with Fiora, his soul felt that same weight being lifted.

With nothing to weigh down his heart, he began to see things in a new light. The lake was every bit as beautiful as it had been every other time he had seen it, but now there was room in his heart to appreciate it. The glow of Jarin truly was a mysteriously gorgeous sight.

His eyes flicked to Fiora.

How had he missed her in all of this?

Her eyes were dancing over the still surface of the waters, taking it all in. The sun was gone and replaced with the pale light of the moon now, not that it mattered. Fiora reflected and brightened everything she touched. Her white hair seemed to glow just as much, and Daron wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t some kind of arcane trick that he never noticed before. It was still braided and tied with that same ribbon that the little girl had gifted her months before. She still wore the gown that she had been packaged with. She was, by all rights, the very same woman that had come out of that wooden crate months before, but she very clearly was not the same. She had grown, laughed, and learned to be a person. She was more than just a machine, she was a real person.

Daron could only stare, entranced by every small movement she made. The gentle smoothness of her face, the subtle blush on her cheeks and the sing song sigh she would make from time to time. All of it penetrated deep into Daron’s heart and he felt it swell. He watched her, for him it felt like an eternity that stretched onward forever, and he was happy with that, but it was equally short and ended far too soon.

As Fiora and Daron locked eyes on one another in that boat on an infinitely empty moon lit lake, something snapped. Something Daron had been holding onto for so very long. A deep seeded need to protect, not just those around him, or the valley beyond, the city in the distance and those he loved, but himself as well. There was always some danger out there waiting to snap him up in the darkness. It was why he kept a sword with him, it was why he was always on his toes and cautious. All of it crumbled before Fiora’s gaze, and with his defenses down her smile, so soft and subtle, planted a seed of something beautiful.

Neither one was sure who leaned in first, but in the span of a few hasty breaths their lips had met. Their kiss lingered onward in the dark silence, the heavy blanket of a peaceful evening draped over the two of them. Daron’s hands coming up to her cheek just to feel more of her and in turn Fiora reached out for him. Her hands trailed around his chest and pulled him ever closer until they were pressed against one another. The heat from his body and the gentle electric tingle of her arcane mechanisms met in the diminishing space between them.

On and on they went, until Daron was out of breath and had to pull away. He wanted to take in one breath and then return to her, but she was pulling back slightly. Not in a way that would suggest she didn’t like what had just happened, but more than there was something that she wanted to say.

“What’s wrong, was- was that too much?” He asked.

“No, I just…I want to do more, I just. I don’t know how to. Or if I can.”

Daron nodded at that. He had moved far too quickly for her, and he had no one to blame for that but himself. He started stacking bricks onto the wall that had been demolished, it was what he did. He only stopped when her hand came to rest on his and he looked back up. A second later they were kissing once again, it lacked the needy and hungry passion that had been there before, it was replaced by a cooling comfort.

Daron put the bricks down, perhaps he didn’t need them.

She pressed in, letting the subtle comfort flow from her mouth into his and it was Daron’s turn to reach out to her and pull her into him. The same tingling feeling as before rose between them and then Fiora pulled away. This time she looked disappointed and almost embarrassed. Her pleading eyes met his.

“I- I just don’t know what to do now. I love the feeling I just…there’s something missing. I-” She stumbled, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

They clasped hands and both bumped their foreheads together.

“We’ll take care of that. We’re headed to the city soon, I know we can find someone to help.”

Fiora nodded and Daron rose to plant a small kiss on her forehead. He hated that she was upset and his mood shifted. He still felt something. Something deep inside of him that he hadn’t felt in a long time, so long that he was surprised he could recall it from the depths.

He loved her.

Not only did he love her but he wanted only good things for her. To shower her in kisses, love, gifts and quiet moments of delight. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted all of her to the point where he fully forgot that she was only an automaton. Fiora was a machine and he was a human, and for all Daron cared, that didn’t matter one bit. They would be together and that was a settled matter.

The voyage back to the docks was just as quiet. Fiora was more still, holding her hands in her lap and her lips remained pressed together as a thin line. Daron smiled at her every time he caught her eye, and she would return a weak smile. They were still some way away from the marina when Daron broke the silence that had presided over their return.

“What troubles you?”

It took Fiora a while to formulate an answer. The arcane mind that occupied her struggled through everything it had learned. It was like it was trapped inside a vast library of knowledge, but every time she found what she wanted to say there was a hard wall that slammed her back. She opened her mouth to reply only to close it again and return to contemplation. Finally, though, she managed to formulate something.

“I feel like you’re disappointed in me. Because I’m not functioning as expected.”

She looked down, scared to see her lord's response. All she saw was her hands fidgeting in her lap, and then she heard his voice.

“Fiora. You aren’t a disappointment to me. Even if we never figure this particular thing out, you’ll always be a light in my life. You have nothing at all to worry about.”

She smiled at that and as they disembarked she seemed to pep up again, returning to her cheerful self, though it was tempered. At least until Daron took her hand in his own and held on as they walked through the courtyard. There were surely eyes watching the pair, but for the first time in ages, Daron wasn’t concerned about that.

The morning came far too early and Daron rolled from his bed and dressed at his usual groggy pace. Fiora was gone though, which was not uncommon but after last night Daron had hoped to see her in the morning as he awoke. If for nothing else because he wanted to give her a kiss before she ran off to her daily chores. He was a little surprised at the disappointment he felt from not seeing her.

The sound of giggling children from outside drew his attention. He knew that he should find Fiora and do their daily sparring, but surely one day wouldn’t hurt.

Stepping out onto the balcony and looking out into the courtyard he saw a group of children clumped together, and then suddenly one began counting and the group split. Each child bolted out into the castle and hid. Some better than others. Daron smiled at that and after dressing himself more properly he strolled out into the courtyard and strode up to the small boy who was finishing up his rushed countdown. Once his eyes were opened and he was met with the lord of the castle there was an obvious moment of hesitation.

Daron smirked and squatted down, the movement felt off for some reason, but that was no concern at the moment. He was going to play a game and hoped to track down Fiora in the process.

“Need a hand finding your friends?” He asked and the child before him shed the look of fear and replaced it with a smile and a nod.

“Alright, ready or not, here we come!” Daron shouted into the courtyard and stalked off with his new hunting companion.

The pair found most of the other children with little difficulty. Daron intentionally overlooked many obvious signs. The tips of shoes poking out behind a stack of barrels, or the obvious child shaped lump in the tarp covering a wagon. There was one, however, that still eluded both of them, to the point that Daron needed to start actually searching for the child.

The pair probed deeper and deeper into the castle, looking in nooks and crannies for the child. Soon it became worrying how deeply Daron had to look, though soon he heard the subtle sound of a child's giggle. He had to think he was terribly clever. Daron smirked at that and pressed himself against one of the walls, pressing his finger to his lips and looking down at his young companion. Sliding along with all stealth, Daron turned the corner, ready to pounce on his quarry, but instead felt swallowed whole.

The world around him darkened. He felt as if he were once again as small as the children he had been playing with.

The doors to the shelter stood open, like a gaping mouth that led into darkness. Daron was familiar with the place, he had seen it more times in his nightmares than he had with his waking eyes. He swallowed hard, and felt a lump in his throat preventing anything from entering him, even breathing was a struggle. His hand flew to his hip, more on instinct than any real threat. Like his nightmares though, there was no sword there. He had left it in his room and he now stood before fear itself unarmed.

In his mind he heard the piercing squeal of metal being rent asunder, buried among the grunts and screams of his parents. The clash of steel against whatever was out there as Daron cowered in the darkness. The same darkness that yawned before him. It was the same shelter, the same darkness and it threatened to swallow him whole.

He heard his name being called, it was a voice he knew, but not something from his nightmare. It was light and sweet and like a razor it cut through his panic. Fiora’s hand touched his shoulder gently and Daron realized that he was shivering. The children were gone, the last one found and the pair run off to rejoin their group of friends and repeat the process all over again, leaving Daron alone in that hallway.

His head was swimming and he felt moments away from collapsing to his knees. The streaks left on his face by tears felt suddenly cold. Fiora’s warm embrace drove away the chill, the nightmares, and helped support him. She guided him gently to the ground and then sat down next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest. The pair sat there, quietly, for as long as it took for Daron to finally begin breathing again.

It was Daron’s turn to be embarrassed with inadequacy. He looked down at his own boots and tried to put thoughts in order, to try and explain, and to simply think and function again. He was acutely aware of how Fiora must have felt the night before. Shattered and useless for his purpose. A cowardly lord who couldn’t face the darkness of a place meant to keep someone safe simply because it had done its job. Daron just couldn’t explain why he regretted that.

Fiora sat with him as he tried explaining what had happened. How the assault on the castle had resulted in the death of his parents, likely on the very spot they were sitting. How he avoided this part of the castle because he was so scared of seeing it and facing the heroic sacrifice they had made for him. How he sometimes wished that he had been on the other side of the door, fighting for his people, and dreaming that maybe if he had been there he could have made a difference.

He knew none of it was true though. If he had stood with his parents he would have been just as dead as they were.

Daron and Fiora sat in that lonely corridor for an hour, perhaps more. No one was keeping track of how long it had been, nor that it mattered. Eventually Daron got to his feet and together he and Fiora made their way back to Daron’s quarters. She held his hand the whole way, squeezing it every so often simply to remind him that she was there and she was with him.

By the time they had entered his tower, Daron’s panic had subsided and he had neatly packed it away inside his mind once again. Fiora knew it though, she had seen it and he was aware that his secrets were leaking out into the world. He wanted so badly to build another new wall around it inside of his mind. Brick upon brick, until it couldn’t get out and hurt him again.

“You know it’s ok to be afraid of something, right?” Fiora offered as Daron settled down onto the edge of his bed.

“Not for me. There are expectations. I have to-”

“You don’t have to be anything but yourself.” Fiora interrupted.

Daron pursed his lips and sighed. He knew she was right.

“Daron.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so worried about taking care of everyone else. About looking out for others and making sure they are safe and well fed and looked after. When was the last time you did that for yourself?”

Helene’s words rang in his head like a bell. Comments about maintaining his sword and how it worked well because he had taken care of it. He took a moment to idly wonder what kind of condition he was in. Perhaps more incomplete than the automaton before him. He thought about her and how she made him feel. About how he had grown alongside her and felt things he thought were long dead, both good and bad. He thought about sharpening a sword and how it could only be done with a whet stone.

“Too long” was his eventual reply. “I’m not sure I remember how to.”

Fiora settled down next to him, draping her arm over his shoulders and resting her head against his.

“Maybe it’s time you let someone do that for you then.”

“Maybe. But where would I find someone crazy enough to do that?” He chuckled. “They’d have their work cut out for them.”

“Certainly. You’d need someone who was, perhaps, purpose built for that kind of thing.”

She released his shoulders and balled up her hand into a fist which she playfully punched him in the arm with. He laughed at that.

Fiora stood and faced Daron. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

“What?”

“I’m going to go make you something to eat to feel better.”

He blinked at that and struggled to think through everything and somehow in the middle of it all tried to pry open the vault of his memories and preferences. He couldn’t fathom thinking about food at the moment, but since it was Fiora asking he would make it happen. Stammering for a moment he managed to mutter something.

“Hakenos and I used to share these fluffy little pastry things. He loved them so much, it was actually one of the only times I heard him actually speak about things. They were called Markezian honey pastries? I used to have them as a child too, brought from travels here."

The way he said it made him wonder if it was even the right answer. He liked them, for certain, but were they his favorite? It didn’t matter, Fiora already heard it and leaned forward to plant a kiss on his forehead before practically skipping from the room, leaving Daron alone again.

As he fell back onto his bed, exhausted as if he had worked all day long, he felt giddy for some reason. He was still recovering from his panic, but there was something else there. Something cutting through the darkness and leaving him smiling. It was a small smile, nothing that would stretch from ear to ear, but just a little quirk at the side of his mouth. Fiora had left it there with her kiss and her insistence on helping him.

He didn’t nap, his heart was still far too active for that, but he did recline and take deep breaths for a long while. Once his mind and body had calmed again he sat up and pushed off of the bed. He glanced at the sword belt where it hung over the back of the chair he sat in when he and Fiora were spending the evening together.

He wanted so badly to put it on. He was afraid but would the sword make it better? Of course it would, he argued with himself, why wouldn’t it?

Because it never had before. Years of wearing that thing on your hip and you were still every bit as paranoid as always. You know what fixed things?

Daron huffed. He knew the answer.

Her.

By evening time the smell rising from the kitchens was tantalizing. Daron could smell the thick scent of sweet honey and warm dough filling the courtyard. Daron had eaten honey pastries before, and the smell was fairly close, though he could definitely tell they were made by someone who didn’t have a full grasp on the process. He smirked, imagining Fiora storming into the kitchen and demanding a recipe for the pastries and then following the recipe to the best of her abilities. The thoughts merged into a scene in his head where all the serving ladies gathered together under Fiora’s sheer determination to make something for the lord of the castle and cheer him up. That thought alone was enough to bring a smile back, but the smell enhanced it.

Not long after, as Daron was still enjoying the evening air, did a knock come to his door. He turned to let in his visitor, but a moment later the door creaked open and Fiora slipped in. She was cradling a small basket with her and lightly stepped across the room with it. The flour muttered gown was more amusing to see than anything, today Fiora truly earned her serving girl status, even though Daron knew that title wouldn’t last long.

With a stifled giggle Fiora set down the basket and pulled back the towel that had been draped over the contents. “My lord.” she said and dipped into a curtsey.

The smell that enveloped Daron was more than enough to persuade him to forget to teasingly scold her about using his title. It flushed every bad memory from his mind and replaced them with warm, fresh, sweet, and delicious reminders of a good life. His mouth was instantly watering and as he breathed deeply of the aroma he felt his eyes flutter closed.

He plucked one of the roughly cut, triangular shaped delights from the basket. The whole thing was made of incredibly thin layers of dough, spices, nuts, and drizzled with honey. The bite he took was an amazing mixture of spices, sweetness and warm nuttiness. All of it sent him spiraling back in time to a better time in his childhood. It was one of the few times that his youth had been filled with pleasant memories.

Bright summer days spent in the courtyard or the countryside. Laughter filled his ears and the warmth of a past sun heated his skin. He could hear and smell and taste and touch those times. He could feel layers of dour years cracking again and falling from his face as he smiled and took another bite. What he was eating was no comparison to the smell from the courtyard, it was so much more.

When his eyes opened again, Fiora was standing only a few paces away, her hands in front of her again, fidgeting nervously and looking at Daron. The expectant look on her face demanded a review of sorts. Without saying a word her eyes begged for him to tell her how it tasted. He knew what she wanted. She wanted, no, needed validation. She needed to know that she had done it, that she had made him happy and provided him with what he wanted.

“That was..” Daron searched for the right word. There wasn’t one, so he made do. “..Incredible.”

Her face exploded into a smile and she practically threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. He was more than happy to return the gesture and hold her tightly to him. So rapt in the moment were the two that neither one truly registered the flutter of body heat and magic that coursed between them. The same sensations as the night before on the boat, but stronger and more subtle.

“You really liked it?” She asked.

“Absolutely.” He said, reaching into the basket and pulling out another one. “Pardon, I’m being so rude, did you have one?”

Fiora shrugged and smiled through. “I can’t exactly taste them, so no, there was no point really.”

“Right, yes, of course. I forgot-”

He let his sentence trail off. He had forgotten she was an automaton and not a real woman. She couldn’t actually eat or taste or enjoy what she had made. Daron realized that she had to enjoy them through his reaction. Not that such a thing would be difficult to convey. In a flash every one of her interactions with him came into sharp clarity. She couldn’t experience some things, and needed to only experience them through Daron and his reaction.

“Well, we made so many of them that we’re bringing them to town with us tomorrow.” Fiora beamed.

“How many did you make?”

“Half a dozen.”

“That’s not so many.” Daron commented.

“Really? Each batch made about thirty of those. Half a dozen batches took quite a while.”

The innocence in her voice almost made Daron choke on his next bite. Half a dozen batches of thirty pastries. Those would surely bring some coin at the market. Once word got out about how good they were, they would likely have to make them a recurring commodity, he thought as he crammed another bite into his mouth.

Fiora settled into her chair and shed her top, letting Daron swap out the crystal inside of her and the pair settled into comfortable conversation. Fiora danced around the topic of what had happened in the castle hall earlier, but her arcane mind wanted to know. Daron was more reluctant to let out the whole story of what had happened, choosing instead to thank her for comforting him and helping him calm down.

The remainder of the evening progressed quietly. Fiora offered to soothingly sing some of the many songs she had learned as Daron lay in bed, still trying to fully come down from his panic attack.

Fiora eventually joined Daron in the bed, gently draping her fingers along his skin as his eyes slipped closed and her singing dropped into a low hum. With time his breathing dropped and snores began to issue forth. Fiora smiled and kissed him gently on the forehead before slipping out of the bed and lighting a single candle for her to read by. She would have much preferred to stay by his side in bed, but there was little else she could do there.

The gentle morning breeze, colder than Daron would have liked, but accompanied by the chirp of morning birds greeted him in the morning. The door to the balcony was open and Fiora’s silhouette could be seen there. Her gown gently ruffled in the breeze as she looked out at the lake, alight once again, with the rays of the sun. Daron made no effort to conceal himself and simply walked out next to her, the gentle slap of his bare feet announcing his presence long before he joined her field of vision.

“Excited?” he muttered

Fiora nodded and kept her gaze fixed on the city beyond the lake. It was more challenging to spot now, though Daron figured that the automaton had some form of enhanced vision or magical sight that would allow her to spot it more readily. The rising sun's influence on the colors of the sky was beginning to wane, and they still had a journey in front of them. Daron placed a hand across her back, gently rubbing up and down between her shoulder blades and appreciating the feel of, what he assumed, was her spine and some of the underlying structure. It felt close enough to a human, but there was a distinct alienness to it.

Pushing it aside he turned and staggered back into his room and began to strip down. Fiora wandered in shortly after that. She blushed slightly at the sight of Daron, mostly nude, but made sure to turn and settle into her chair before he could notice her. From her post she had a perfect view to watch as he dressed himself in small glimpses. He was wandering back and forth from his armoire, to a screen where he would slip behind it and put on whatever he had pulled out, judging it for a moment and swapping it out for something new.

Eventually he was dressed. Simple, but regal. A ruffled shirt tucked into a pair of comfortable trousers and covered by a dark tunic sporting the embroidered crest of Beohold. The owl head on the breast stood out among the otherwise muted colors. Soft boots up to his knees finished the ensemble. Daron’s eyes darted to the sword belt slung over the back of his usual sitting chair.

“Ready to go Fiora?”

The trip to the city was long, taking the better part of the morning once the carts were loaded and hitched. It wasn’t a long journey, but with some folks on foot and extra care given to make sure not to jostle the cargo. The journey itself was smooth though and provided more than enough time for Fiora and Daron to chat, both among themselves and with those from the castle who were along with them. Crates of goods, crops and produce, and the occasional artisan craft were all loaded and ready and in those moments when Fiora was distracted by another conversation Daron would help himself to a pastry. Each one earned him a scowl when Fiora looked back and caught him with crumbs around his smirking mouth.

Once inside the city proper and at the market, Fiora helped set up the pastries, but at Daron’s behest, left it in the care of the other maids. He took her hand and led her deeper into the market, ignoring the giggles and idle chatter of the residents who were left behind. Fiora glanced over her shoulder to wave a quick goodbye and was met with a barrage of nods, winks approving gestures. All of which she took in and giggled to herself.

Daron had little time for idle chat once he and Fiora made their way into the market proper. There were so many things for Fiora to look at and ask questions about. They had an agenda for the day, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t take a detour into shops to look at nick nacks and baubles. All of them fascinated Fiora and she wanted to look at and touch and examine everything. From small glass globes with some figurine inside of them, to mechanisms that even Daron was confused by, to what she ended up being unable to leave behind.

Placing a small stack of coins on the counter, the withered old man smiled and gladly pushed a little wooden box to Fiora. She graciously bowed and thanked him before taking her prize and turning the small crank on the side of the thing. A small metal barrel connected to the crank turned slowly, metal nubs jutted from it and plucked metal tines and created a small looping tune. As she turned it she soon began humming along to it and eventually tucked it away in a pouch on her belt but continued to hum the simple tune as her and Daron strolled along.

Daron eventually steered her with intent into a tailors shop. He instructed her to look around for a moment while he spoke with the shop owner, a request she was more than happy to comply with. She disappeared among the displays of dresses and clothes. While she was twirling through the shop, smiling and humming as she went, the woman behind the counter took a letter he produced from his pocket and read it. Nodding she disappeared into the back of the space and returned a moment later.

“Fiora. Would you mind coming here for a moment?”

A moment later she was at his side but before that her eyes landed on the garment laid out on the counter.

An elegant gown with gilded lace along the high neck collar lay in front of her. There was accompanying jewelry as well. A gold necklace and matching bracelets, each one studded with simple gems and fitted perfectly in place. It looked as if it would flow down her body perfectly and come to a halt just above her ankles, stopping it from ever dragging along the ground. A belt, gilded and soft, was already spun around the waistline, ending in a polished brass buckle. The low cut from the neckline would make it easy for Fiora to open that same small panel in her chest and allow access to her runestones as well, though she doubted that was intentional.

“For you.” Daron said. “You deserve something more than a simple serving girl’s gown if you are to be seen by my side.”

To his recollection, this might have been the first time that Fiora was well and truly speechless. Her hands were still covering her mouth which Daron could tell was still hanging agape at the gift.

“Go on, try it on. Madam, can you show her to the dressing room?” He asked the woman behind the counter who was still beaming at the interaction.

Fiora gleefully followed along and emerged from behind a curtain minutes later. The fit on the dress was fairly flawless. There may have been some adjustments that could be made, but they were nothing that the staff back at the castle couldn’t handle, if Fiora wanted them at all. Regardless, she looked immaculate and Daron had no qualms about letting her know. With every small compliment she blushed a little more deeply and eventually had trouble meeting her lord's gaze with her own.

Leaving the shop, hand in hand, Daron and Fiora looked like a proper regal couple. No one would have suspected otherwise, and certainly not that Fiora was a machine. She did stumble a little in the new shoes that had been commissioned with the dress. They were taller than what her balance felt comfortable with, and the spike of a heel on them led to a number of wobbly steps. Daron was there to catch her every time and secretly admitted to himself that he enjoyed the more socially acceptable reason to put his hands around her waist.

Their second destination was one that put a twisting knot in Daron’s belly.

The gnomish tinker shop was easy enough to spot. The curling black sooty smoke from the chimney and the abundance of light hammer taps was a clear sign. The glass window displaying a humanoid in it for sale was another, and one that made Daron feel more than a little upset. He thought about Fiora standing there, blankly staring out at nothing at all, unaware of anything and everything. A blank slate to be bought and conformed to someone’s will. He looked at Fiora now, at her abundant joy, and his heart swelled. If she was a reflection of the person that owned her then he couldn’t be too terrible.

The shop was lit oddly. Light bounced and redirected itself oddly around the space. Natural light from the windows reflected off of polished brass surfaces and diffused once it impacted some odd shaped gadget.

Standing atop a stool and leaning into the open belly of another automaton, stood a stumpy little gnome. His leg was missing and replaced with some kind of prosthetic, made of brass, gears, pulleys and wrapped in leather. He didn’t look up from what he was doing, but his voice resounded from inside of his work.

“Be with you in just a moment.” He called before blindly reaching for something off of his belt and then bringing it inside and twisting it sharply.

He extracted himself and looked at Daron and Fiora, one of his eyes oddly magnified by something clipped to pince-nez clinging to the bridge of his nose.

“Well well, Lord Daron Beohold. What an unexpected pleasure.” He said as he swung an arm across his belly and bowed deeply. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Daron sighed at the formality of it all. It was interactions like this that added to his delight for the roads beyond the castle. He was just Daron there, no lord, or sire, no titles or formalities.

“This is Fiora, she is- She’s my-”

“I’m an automaton.” She corrected.

“Ah well, I’m not in the market to buy.” The little gnome cut in before being interrupted by Daron.

“No no, nothing like that. We just…there were some questions I had that we had hoped you could answer.”

“Ah ha. Yes, of course, I’ll do my best, but as I am sure you know, the automatons are still something of a mystery to us. They are ancient and the technology that makes them work is only vaguely understood.”

Daron nodded and shuffled slightly. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say, how to say it, and what he had hoped for in his mind a few times since the boat ride with Fiora. Now, though, confronted with having to say it out loud he found the words caught in his throat and needed to be forced out.

“We were, ah- having a moment the other night. It was fairly ro-romantic.” Daron stammered. “And there was just something missing. Fiora how did you put it?”

“I just couldn’t think of what to do next. We kissed, he was holding me, but there was just no further information for me to process.” She looked to Daron.

The little gnome raised an eyebrow at her then at him.

“A moment huh?” He sounded skeptical, but didn’t push further. “And your intimacy Runestone didn’t trigger or anything?”

It was Fiora and Daron’s turn to exchange perplexed looks with one another. When they looked back to the tinkerer he was smiling and practically laughing.

“Don’t have one huh?”

Daron blinked and remembered the small bag of additional runestones back in the castle that he had told himself he would investigate later, and then never did. Fiora was enchanting all on her own and he barely had time to think that there was more she could do.

“I..I actually might have one. There were more than came with you when I- When I opened the crate you came in there was a little bag with more stones in it. I just never put more than a few in.” Daron admitted.

“And you’d need the- uh- the..you know..” The gnome pointed downward and raised his eyebrows, hoping that he wouldn’t have to get too explicit in his explanations of what else might be missing.

“Ah, ahem, yes well, I don’t know that we have that particular. Erm. Appendage.”

Daron muttered and blushed just as furiously as Fiora was. She was fidgeting as her lord spoke and felt like she was being not only scrutinized but that she was wholly inadequate for Daron.

“Worry not, I have what you need. Your automaton here should have some instructions on how to get it in place. Probably once she has it in her hands it’ll unlock the information you both need. Arcane artifacts are like that. Also, don’t forget to insert that intimacy runestone. That’s fairly critical.”

“What do those do?” Fiora asked.

“Glad you asked. Think of them like a little magical container. They fill up with new knowledge and information the more you use them. So, for example, the more intimate time you two spend together the more that runestone will fill up and the more..i guess creative she’ll be.”

Daron thought for a moment, and then all at once he understood.

“That explains things a little.” Fiora and the gnome looked at him as if expecting more information. “The combat and tactics one I put in, we spar every morning and evening. She’s shown incredible growth there in a short time so-”

“So it’s filling up quite fast. And I’ll bet she’s beginning to match your skill?”

Daron nodded.

“This will be much the same thing.”

The silence that hung in the air as each of the three occupants contemplated that.

“Ok yeah I’ll uh, let’s get that artifact. Please?”

There was much more silence to follow. The blush on both Daron and Fiora spoke volumes though.

The trek back to the castle was far too long for Daron and Fiora. They both knew what their arrival there would herald. Neither one knew what to expect, or if they were fully ready for what followed. There was no disputing the fact that Fiora was attractive. Daron wasn’t even concerned about the fact that she was a mechanical being. The fact of the matter was that he was far more worried about the impact a sexual encounter might have on his relationship with Fiora and how she would react to it.

She was far too precious to him to jeopardize what they had for a night of carnal pleasures.

The cool night air permeated the whole of Daron’s room. He and Fiora stood there, face to face, hand in hand. He sucked in a deep breath and prepared himself to say something, likely stumbling over something, when Fiora spoke first.

“It’s going to be okay Daron. You know that right?”

“Wh- what do you mean?”

“I know you’re scared. Don’t worry, I’ll still be me. You’ll still be you, and we will still be us. Okay? I’m not going to change, just be better.”

“That’s a change you know.”

“Stop making this difficult.”

She reached up and pulled apart the fringes of the high neck collar, exposing her upper chest to him. He hesitated for only a moment before pressing his palm against her skin and feeling the familiar cool tingle of magic just below the surface. As he pulled his hand back the flesh along her chest was shrinking back and exposing the internal workings below. Glowing threads of magic coursed around inside of her, and many connected to that central console with the other runestone’s lodged in it. There was a single remaining slot inside of her.

“This one? Right?” Daron held up one of the runestones, Fiora nodded and looked down at her exposed chest.

Daron swallowed past the lump in his throat, steeled himself, and pushed it into place.

Fiora shivered instantly and her skin rolled back into place over her chest. She let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a pleasured moan. Her eyes had slipped closed and once her chest was completely covered again she opened them and looked to Daron.

“Did it work?” He asked with a cautious tone.

“One good way to find out.” Fiora replied.

In an instant their lips were on one another. Fiora leaned in and planted a long string of hot kisses on his neck and moved upwards from there, eventually meeting his lips in a hungry tide. She had kissed him, perhaps, twice before he found his hands flowing up her hips and along her body to her collar. He could have sworn that the clasp wasn’t that intricate to get undone, but he fumbled his way through it regardless.

On some level Daron knew that her whole dress wasn’t held in place by a single clasp, but that didn’t seem to be the case tonight. The silky fabric of her custom dress seemed to flow over the smooth curves of her body in a rapid cascade. Perhaps those adjustments didn’t need to be made after all.

Fiora mewled a little as Daron’s lips found hers. With the aid of her arcane influences she focused less on the influx of so much information that she knew she would have missed before, and instead focused in on removing whatever stood between her hands and her lover’s skin. She knew better than to ferociously tear his shirt off of him, but she did the next best thing. Her fingers loosening tie strings and then yanking his shirt up and over his head.

Once his chest was exposed to her she let her hands flow down and over his well muscled chest. His body was taut and ready at all times, though it seemed coiled and ready to strike tonight. How had she missed such an excellent form in all her days of sword play with him. This wasn’t the first time she had seen Daron with his bare chest exposed, but this was the first time she could truly appreciate it.

And she intended to appreciate so much more of his body tonight.

Before she could, Daron leaned forward, nibbling gently on her neck and wrapping his arms around her. He crouched just a bit and scooped her up, supporting her rear end in his clasped hands and hoisting her off of the ground. She weighed more than he would have expected, but the grunt he let out as he lifted her was welcome among the other sounds both were making. As he lifted her she found her bare breasts were directly in front of him, a fact he intentionally utilized.

Fiora’s head fell back, her white hair cascading down her back as a lewd sounding moan rolled out of whatever mechanism made her voice a reality. The sound carried around the room, rolling along the walls and bouncing back in a resounding cry. She had never felt anything so pleasurable as Daron taking her nipple into his mouth. He suckled eagerly at it and her hands came to tangle into his hair, clenching slightly as her body practically when ridgid with lust.

The pair stumbled to the corner that Fiora usually occupied. Daron was careful to place her into the chair. She squeaked once as she was lowered into place and her eyes once again slipped closed as Daron’s lips found hers. She smirked and her hand drifted to one side, fumbling for something on the rounded table next to her chair. Once she found the relic she had sought, there was something that clicked in her mind.

As the tinkerer had said, she knew what to do with it. The thing in her hand seemed to draw some of the arcane life from inside of her, illuminating small paths along her skin, radiating from her chest and pouring into the device in her hand. Glowing runes drank deeply of her energy and etched winding paths along the relic, bringing it to life and synchronizing itself to her core.

She knew what to do with it.

Daron barely registered that she was moving, he was far too enraptured with the taste of her skin and the textures of her body. His hands found their way to her breasts and gently massaged them. Each movement drew a new soft coo from Fiora as her whole body tingled with an electric life. It was the same faint passing of arcane and biological energies on the boat that night, but now she could fully embrace it. Now it meant something, it welled up inside of her and unlocked new thoughts and new actions.

There was still something missing though, and it was in Fiora’s hand.

As her lover continued to leave kisses along her body, Fiora took his hand and gently moved it downward, letting it land softly on her upper thigh. He didn’t need much more encouragement than that. She felt his hand, powerful and firm, moving up her inner leg and coming to the hard plate that covered her crotch. He pulled back and looked down at it, and a dawning realization rolled over him. He looked up to her eyes from where he was standing over her.

Her sly smile told him everything. His eyes moved down her chest, across her breasts and down her slender arms to her hand. The relic there was clearly constructed to be part of automatons like Fiora. Not that he was an expert on the internal workings of the mechanical beings, but the thing in her hand was about as long as his forearm from wrist to elbow and just about as round. Jutting from one end of it was a strange configuration of the same material as the runestones. Shimmering in its greenish blue hues and sporting sharp edges.

On the reverse end of the mechanism was exactly what Daron had expected. Flesh that was all too soft and ready. Slightly pinker than the surrounding skin and already feeling warm and comfortable. Daron didn’t look at it for too long, but he would have sworn that there were beads of liquid already forming on the edges of the feminine folds at its center.

Fiora was wearing that same bright smile as always, but it was tempered with lust and impure thoughts. Her smile never left her lips but she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, concentrating on something and a moment later Daron felt her body shiver for a moment. Then the hard plate between her legs loosened and seemed to slide out of her body. He was there to catch it and set it aside. Her head returned and looked at Daron, then she pressed the artifact into his other hand.

The coy half lidded eyes spoke to him. She wanted this, she needed this, and he held the key to it in his hands. With a flick of his eyes he went from looking at her all to gorgeous face, the pure clear skin down to the hard dark edges of the relic. He could already see the swirling threads of arcane magic seeking her. They probed the air and grasped for her body, longing to be connected to the body they were part of. Many of them seemed to already be fluttering into the darkness left by removing that plate.

Daron’s thumb brushed against some of the skin on the thing in his hand and in return Fiora gasped slightly. It was little more than a hitch in her throat, but it was clear that she had felt it, and that gave the man that loomed over her a head full of ideas.

He didn’t align the relic with her waiting body, instead he brought her detached flesh to his mouth where a parade of kisses awaited it. Beginning at the very edges of her artificial skin. She surely felt that and let out a dark and smokey sigh.

Fiora was surprised to feel as much as she did, though the sensations were distant, they were very real. The magical draw of the relic was powerful and it only seemed to increase the more Daron touched her.

His kisses grew closer and closer to the slit at the center of the artifact in his hands and he was more than happy to indulge in that. He knelt down between his automaton’s spread legs and lapped at her womanhood. Encouraged by her increasingly desperate panting he drove his tongue hard inside of her. He knew, on some level, that he should properly connect this to her, but he was having far too much fun with it detached and in his hands. A fact he would be sure to remember later, if his mind allowed him to see through the haze of lust.

Another long lick from the bottom of her folds up to the top drew another pleasured peal from Fiora and marked Daron’s last little trick before he inserted the relic into place. He pulled it away from his mouth and took a moment to look upon her. The wild dance of the candle light around the room danced across the pale skin on her legs and left only the deep opening as a pit, yawning and ready to accept the relic. Daron gently placed it there, sliding it into her. Once it had reached the natural end of its length he pushed in just a little harder with his thumbs at the edge of her flesh.

Fiora heaved as the connection was established. A torrent of stored sensations and energy flooded into her. Her legs twitched and tried to clamp together, but with Daron there she only managed to squirm and writhe in her chair as the last few moments of stored feelings filled her. The cries she made spoke of lust and lewd intentions, of a feeling of pure sexual desire and pleasure finally coming to a climax. She did nothing to attempt to curb her voice and let the pleasure she felt fill the space.

As she lay back, panting and grumbling softly in her chair, she only barely saw Daron rise in front of her. His hands were working at something on his hips, but she was not yet aware of what, exactly. As his boots were kicked off and his trousers came free of his hips though, she soon caught on. What's more, she seemed immediately reinvigorated.

Seeing Daron’s manhood exposed and ready, Fiora seemed to immediately know what to do. She slumped a little in her chair and then like a flowing river moved smoothly to her knees. Her hands fell properly onto her lap in a wholly submissive pose, even her head dipped forward just a little, to the point that when Daron was ready he needed to gently cup her chin and raise it upwards. Once he did, he found that her grin was ever present, her eyes practically begged for him, and in an instant her mouth was open.

Never one to miss the opportunity when it presents itself, Daron tangled his fingers into the stark white hair on Fiora’s head and stepped forward. As he did, he pulled her head forward and in a simple, smooth motion he was inside of her mouth.

Warm and wet, just as real as any woman he had ever been with before, but from the automaton it was unexpected. Daron had wondered in the moments before she took him into her mouth, if she would feel the same as a real woman would. His pleasure told him now that there had been little to worry about. So he did what came naturally, he left his hands gently clasped on her head, fingers comfortably placed at the back of her skull and palms either side. She did the work of pulling back and letting her soft lips flow over every inch of his shaft. Once there, he would subtly thrust his hips forward while pulling her back into him.

Never once did Fiora let her lord's member slip from between her lips. There were occasions where the very tip of it came dangerously close to losing contact with her, but whatever information was stored in the freshly installed runestone moved her in just the right way to keep Daron inside of her. As she plied her craft over him she made the most delectably soft sounds. Her throat hummed and vibrated with magical energy and produced little muffled moans and squeaks. All of them clearly dripping with lustful pleasure.

Daron had little worry that Fiora was enjoying herself while she pleasured him. His eyes remained mostly closed, but the sounds she made were more than enough to inform him of her delight. Occasionally he would look down on her, and see that she was not only smiling, somehow, with his sex in her mouth, but that her hands were also moving around her own body. Her hands gently toying with her own breasts or lodged between her legs, gently moving and massaging the relic there.

As time spread out through the night, Daron felt a rising climax building inside of him. A boiling hot knot formed in his hips and threatened to burst at any moment. He was panting hard and gulping down deep swallows of the cold night air. Each fresh breath helped calm him only to be canceled out by Fiora’s mouth gliding down the full length of his shaft and taking it all in. He was rising and falling, though it seemed to be a losing battle, he would soon be finished. That wasn’t what he wanted though, so he pulled back, and when Fiora moved to keep him inside of her he pulled back just a little more, freeing himself from her lips.

The look on her face seemed perplexed but enticed. She trusted him and knew that this wasn’t some slight against her or moment to scold something she had done wrong, rather it was preparations for something more. There would be no words exchanged, instead both instinctively knew what would happen next.

Fiora pressed her hands into her thighs and pushed herself upwards only to find Daron’s hand there. She took it and together they rose. He held her hand softly, fearing that he might crush it with all the excitement he held inside of him now. The cool night air calmed him and took the edge off of his lust, but it would never be enough to sate it. Instead, he moved towards the bed, hand in hand with Fiora, and both seemed to float across the space until they were safely enveloped in the comfort of blankets and sheets.

Another fresh round of kisses were exchanged, Daron and Fiora’s hunger for one another was insatiable at this point and their deep passionate kisses quickly turned to hands on one another and soft moans. Soon enough Daron knew he needed to take charge and satisfy himself with her, lest he spend the entire night on the very precipice. So, breaking their kiss he repositioned himself over Fiora and took hold of her legs. Not that he needed to as she was already spreading her legs wide and allowing him into her.

As before, Daron gently inserted himself into her waiting honeypot and settled into a smooth and measured rhythm. His hips gliding back and forth while Fioa did her part and rolled her hips every time he filled her fully. She moved her hips with each pass, garnering a pleasurable sensation for herself and clearly stimulating her lover at the same time. The pair of lovers could feel the heat between them, either as a product of the simple art of making love or because of the swirling combination of arcane and physical energies in the room.

The sound of panting, moaning, grunts and growls and squeals of pure delight filled the night air. After long minutes of deep love, Daron once again felt that coiling beast inside of him. The pressure made itself known and marched onward toward its release. Daron calmed his mind and body to the best of his ability, and continued his thrusts, gauging his responses and actions based on the beautiful automaton below him. She was close, he could hear it. The pitch of her voice, the frequency of her moaning, the greedy way she thrust against him with every movement.

In a single glorious moment, Daron finally felt his climax reach its peak. Either in response or as a natural progression, Fiora did as well. As he thrust deep inside of her, he grabbed hard onto her shoulders and pulled her into him, or perhaps he was using her as leverage to thrust himself just a little deeper into her. It didn’t matter. He exploded inside of her, filling her with all that he had and in response she wrapped her slender legs around his body, pulling tight and pleading for more. Her head falling back against the pillows as her hands clutched at the silk sheets.

They remained joined as one for long moments after the final climax of the evening. Daron panting and sweating while Fiora seemed to glow. Quite literally illuminated from inside as her arcane core and the runestone configurations swelled with new knowledge and sensations. The magical center of her being was alight and warmly pulsating for a moment or two. Daron noticed, but felt no need to comment on it. Not now, not when his own heart felt like it was glowing with an equal amount of light from a different kind of magic.

In time he extracted himself from her and the pair took some time to properly clean themselves. Dipping a towel into a basin of fresh water poured from a pitcher on Daron’s desk. The cold water shocked Daron’s body and invigorated him to the point where he felt that a return to their bed might result in more lovemaking. Not wanting to rush along into new things and out of a deep consideration for Fiora bid him to reconsider. Instead the pair returned to the comfort of the bed, foregoing clothes and instead draping their bodies together.

Sleep came quickly to Daron, but not before spending long minutes gently stroking the artificial skin along Fiora’s cheek and brushing aside the multitude of disheveled strands of hair across her face. His eyes slowly slipped closed. Her brilliantly smiling face was the last thing he saw before slipping into one of the most peaceful nights of sleep he could recall.

In the weeks that followed the pair slipped into a comfortable routine. Morning sparring, which now consisted of less instruction and more stretches and actual sparring. They had also forgone the unbalanced and weighty wooden swords for steel swords. Once Daron had worked up a considerable sheen from sweat he and Fiora would return to his quarters where she would change and wander off to do her chores for the day and Daron would attend to his duties. Once the evening made its way into the world they would meet again, spar for a shorter time and then return to his tower.

Once there, clothes were almost instantly shed, falling wherever they may in the room as the pair made their way to the bed.

Daron had to admit that Fiora’s improvisational skills in the barracks were becoming impressive. He was still playing very safe with her, but she was pushing and pushing hard. He was keeping up with her and her with him, and he was rapidly running out of tricks to play on her. He was more cautious as well, the steel swords weren’t sharp enough to shear through a man like he was used to, not like his longsword, but they would definitely rend flesh if needed.

Today the sound of steel ringing against steel filled the barracks, as it did most mornings. Daron and Fiora were dancing again. The instruments were their blades the footwork was frantic and haphazard, but still filled with measured grace and elegance. The novelty of watching these two had worn off some time ago, a fact that Daron was thankful for, the less audience he had the more he could feel free to be open and honest with Fiora on her performance.

She was pressing him again, aggressively swiping at him and in turn he deflected and parried most of her strikes and dodging others. Another thrust that he slapped his sword against, she clearly expected as much and used the momentum of her blade being parried to the side to swirl quickly around and flourish back at him from the opposite side. It was too quick for him to position his blade to block it effectively and so he stomped a foot into the packed dirt floor and threw himself back, skipping a step or two as he landed.

Fiora advanced on him then jabbing her sword forward, the blunted tip of it spearing towards Daron. He had seen her do this before and was more than ready for it. He swooped his sword down and then smoothly back up, catching her blade and throwing her attack up high. She was right in front of him now and he couldn’t help but smile. She was right where he would have wanted an attacker to be.

His sword whistled through the air and angled for her throat. He was already pulling back, not wanting to actually inflict any sort of damage onto someone so precious to him. Still, her thrust being tossed up high staggered her and she wobbled to one side, forcing her neck against Daron’s blade.

In that moment something flared inside of Fiora and blasted outward through the small incision Daron had left in her skin. A white hot shower of sparks flared up as her combat and tactics runestone stole precious power from her core and sent it coursing into an energy shield across the cut on her neck. In doing so it screamed and shrieked as wild magical power surged to the spot.

Daron’s mind heard the sound. It was something he knew all too well, a sound he had heard once with his ears, and countless other times in his nightmares. The squeal of an angry monster killing his parents. The sound of their steel on the creature that was assaulting the castle. It was the sound of death, of monsters, of fear, anguish, and torment. It was the sound that punctuated every one of Daron’s worst nightmares.

It was the sound that snapped his mind and pushed everything he knew aside. His rational mind retreated from control and left only a lifetime of training and reactions to dictate his movements.

He screamed with fury, anger, fear, and raw survival instincts. Fiora was fine aside from a dizziness, but she had no time to worry about that. Daron was coming at her and she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t present. She was on her guard against something that was wholly reactionary. Daron wasn’t attacking her, he was attacking his nightmares. A foe that only existed in his mind, behind his eyes, clawing at his waking mind.

She barely got her blade up in time to deflect the first blow and it sent a heavy shock wave rippling along her arm as the blow rattled the sword down to the hilt. Another one came in and all she could do was dash to one side to avoid it. More rapid fire swings came at her in a blind rage and all she could do was throw up her blade and hope it held against the impacts.

It was clear that Daron’s attacks wouldn’t stop, not until he snapped out of his nightmares. The only boon was that in his berserker rage his attacks lacked finesse and flare and were power. She wasn’t sure if that was good or not, but it allowed her to duck to one side as another heavy overhead chop came in. She took a page from Daron’s lessons and swept her foot out and caught him just behind the knee and drove him down.

Not that he stopped at that. He fell to his knees and used the momentum to roll forward and come back to his feet, and when he did he threw out a blind backward swipe that caught Fiora completely by surprise.

The blade dug into her arm just below the shoulder. The dull blade cutting along her skin and rending it with ease. The blade itself wasn’t doing the work of cutting, it was all furious power directly from Daron. Fiora could only venture a glance down at her arm just in time to see the dull metal internal workings exposed and in turn sheared in half. More and more of her arm and the artificial sinew and mechanisms inside were exposed, shattering and spilling around her. Dabbles of fluids spurt from the tubing that was cut and then her arm was gone, dropping to the ground.

Fiora could only scream in a wild mixture of simulated pain and terror as her arcane mind began to try and cope with the loss of part of her body. The piercing cry reached deep into Daron’s mind and stirred something there. Where a nightmare of squealing metal and hate had taken over, her scream of pure distress pierced through the cloud of nightmares and woke Daron.

He was panting now, the darkness lifted from him and the world came rushing back in with a bright flash. No longer was he cowering in that dark room listening to the slaughter beyond heavy wooden doors. He was in the barracks, the hard dirt below his feet held him firmly and the trembling in his hands was so great that his practice sword fell from it and thumped into the ground.

He spun in time to see Fiora collapse to the same dirt flooring. A cloud of dust was thrown up around her several feet away lay her arm, the fingers still twitching slightly as the sword she once wielded lat across the palm. She was still awake, or at least her eyes were open, but the red light that had been ever present behind her pupils was dying, replaced with only a dark pool that reflected Daron’s expression. He saw the terror and pain on his own face, not because of Fiora but because of himself. Because of the darkness that still clutched his heart in its hands.

“Fiora, no no! Fiora!” Daron scrambled to her and lifted her limply to him.

“Ready my horse!” Daron called with all the gusto his lungs could produce.

He cared little about how filthy he looked, covered in dirt and mud made from sweat and dust. Nobility be damned today. Fiora was laid across the saddle, her damaged arm lashed in place with a hastily toed length of rope and he was off.

Jarin was only half an hour away on horseback. That wasn’t nearly fast enough and Daron kicked his horse in a constant rhythm to get there faster. It ran at a full pace for as long as it could, and even when it slowed Daron insisted on at least a brisk trot.

Despite the crowded streets Daron called for people to clear from his path as he navigated through the cobblestone streets, searching for what he needed. In the end it was a thin wisp of black smoke from the tinkerers chimney that guided Daron to the doorstep. Once there he simply threw the reins over whatever was closest and gingerly brought Fiora’s limp body down from the saddle before bashing his way into the tinkerers shop.

“Oh my that was-”

“Help!” was all Daron managed.

Seeing the distress and the inert automaton in his arms the little gnome snapped into action and waved his hand towards Daron. Skittering across the floor to a curtain behind the counter, Daron followed along, well aware of his long legs and how fast they carried him in the wake of the much smaller man. He had to slow to prevent himself from overrunning the one person who he had come to seek aid.

A finely polished wooden table dominated the center of the backroom and was surrounded by every kind of tool and mechanism that Daron had ever laid eyes on. None of it mattered to him, there was only one thing that he could focus on and she was laying on the table.

His explanation of the series of events that led him here spilled from his mouth like a cascading waterfall. Little of it was truly pertinent to Fiora’s condition, but he needed to get it all out. By the end a tear was rolling down his cheek and became lost in his beard, joining more mud and dust there. The gnomish man attempted to calm Daron down and assure him that Fiora would be fine, but she would need work. Daron’s assurance that any amount of gold was acceptable and would gladly pay in advance. Assured that prices and payment could be discussed later, Daron was shooed from the back room.

Left alone in the shop filled with inert automatons, ready for sale and blankly staring at nothing, Daron could only feel judgemental stares from them. He couldn’t stand to be there, but he was loathed to leave Fiora alone. He needed to be there but he was unable to stay, and so he shrunk away, slipping quietly out into the market.

He wandered aimlessly for some time. Looping around the market and looking in the direction of things, but never truly at them. So dense was the feeling of regret and disappointment in himself that he could only wander around, checking in on the tinkerers shop every time he passed it, but seeing only an empty space. No gnome smiling and telling him everything was ok, no Fiora smiling at him.

Would she ever smile at him again? Why would she want to?

He staggered away. He was lost in the most familiar places. He was without his sword, without his armor, without the walls around his mind. He was naked and alone, left exposed with the nightmares that had hunted him his entire life. Not only had they found him, they had utterly controlled his life for a short time, but it was long enough for him to do harm to someone he…

Someone he loved…

The sun was low on the horizon, threatening to light the blue sky with spectacular color. Light clouds became a canvass and drifted with a lazy kind of peace. Daron saw it, and knew that Fiora would love to see it. To see that kind of beauty reflected in her eyes and enhanced by the redness of her pupils, and the dark stain of her maroon lips.

He peeked into the shop again, this time seeing the gnome there making himself busy. Daron slipped into the shop, afraid that his mere presence might stir some trouble. His expectant look at the tinkerer asked all the questions he had.

“As I said before. She is fine. The cut looked a little rough and it shredded some of the skin on her arm. I’ve applied a paste that will rejoin it, but it will take time to dry.” He chuffed a little laugh. “It’s not quite the same complexion though. She’ll have a bit of a scar there until the magic fully reconnects, then it’ll fade.”

He cleared his throat and continued.

“Internally, well, that was a bit of a mess, more blunt force than a good cut, but nothing I wasn’t able to fix up. It might be a little stiff for a week or two though, until the arcane threads can re-establish a flow.”

Daron struggled to hear the gnome, hearing most of his words as a distant voice, perhaps spoken from the other room..or across the city. Daron’s mind was only dominated by the resounding phrase that she was fine. He felt his chest heave once as a fresh stream of tears began to roll down his cheek and he simply nodded along. He brushed his sleeve across his eyes to clear them and only managed to smear more mud across his face.

“Is- Is she- awake?” Daron murmured.

“More or less, she’s in a restful state, it’ll help the magic flow through her. She’s been like that for a short while now. I can wake her up if you like.”

Daron nodded and the gnome disappeared into the backroom.

Moments later Fiora appeared, alone.

Her training shirt was cut free at the shoulder. It was a cleaner cut than what Daron had done and clearly something that the tinkerer would have done to allow him more room to work. His eyes refused to meet hers, flicking instead to the cut he had left her.

True to form, the arm was reattached and currently hung easily at her side. Just below the shoulder was a very rough looking slice that was covered by whatever paste the gnome had applied. It was a lighter skin tone, something Daron would never have thought possible given how pale Fiora was. Still, it looked like a wicked scar for now.

Daron fidgeted with his hands in front of himself, a habit he had clearly picked up from Fiora. He wanted so badly to run to her, to throw his arms around her, and never let her go. He was far too afraid of what she thought about him to do so.

She, on the other hand, was tearfully happy to see him and rushed to him, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace. She was sobbing and Daron knew why. He could have killed her, and in that moment he was unable to bring himself to return her embrace knowing that he was likely moments away from being told how awful he was.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She whispered into his chest.

A choke came to his throat and tears flowed freely now as he struggled to raise his arms to hold her. It was like there was a lead weight tied to every single fiber of being. Still he fought, he had to, and in the end he won.

The pair quietly held one another for a long time. Long enough for the little gnome to slip past them, flip over the sign in his window and lock the door, then disappear back to the confines of his repair room.

The city was dark, lit only by the same glow that Fiora had once spotted from across the lake. Daron was exhausted, emotionally and physically from the day he had had, but he was ready to mount up and make a trek back to his home. It was Fiora who asked if there might be an inn that would house them for one night, allow Daron to clean up and rest a bit before returning home. He was far too exhausted to make any sort of counter argument, nor did he want to try and impart his will against her at the moment.

A cozy little tavern and inn was no trouble to find, though Daron idly wondered if anyone would recognize him in such a state. Muttered with dirt and mud, looking weary and practically hanging off of Fiora for support. He felt low and useless, even as he tried to arrange a room, Fiora had to step in and clarify that they only needed a room for the night and a single serving of food for the evening.

The room was small, but Daron wasn’t so unfamiliar with a room like this. He had been away from the castle and on the road for long enough to feel just as at home in a small space like this. He ate the food brought to him and drained a tankard of water that was drawn from a well and tasted like it.

As he lay in bed, miserable and broken from the day, Fiora pulled a stool up and sat next to him. She hummed softly, the little tunes she had learned to occupy herself while she worked and to sing along with her companions in the castle. She idly toyed with some of Daron’s hair and smiled as he slipped into unconsciousness.

The darkness was ever-present around Daron. It was cold and smelled of something old and rotten, yet oddly familiar. Fiora was there with him as well. She was dressed in her training garb, and Daron had to admit that she looked every bit as wonderful as always. She was smiling at him too, it was the only light in this dark place.

Rising from the darkness was a massive set of sturdy doors. Banded with iron and imposing themself, filling his field of vision and weirdly stretching out in every direction. As it expanded before him all he could do was take a staggered step back, because he knew what was coming next.

The door opened, giving way to a deeper darkness that not even Fiora’s light could penetrate. Daron didn’t see it though, he didn’t need to, he knew what lived in that darkness. A beast of pain and misery that had haunted him his whole life. There was nothing to be done for it, all he could do was evade it. All he could do was put on layers of armor and hope it cushioned the blows the thing would deal. All he could do was-

Fiora wasn’t running with him. He was cowering alone in the dark and she was, instead, staring down the thing that emerged. It was huge, so much bigger than Daron, and clad in black and brass armor. The greatsword clutched in one hand looked too huge for Daron to wield, but this thing held it like it was a mere dagger.

Daron screamed at Fiora to move, to run, to hide, to slip quietly away, but his voice was swallowed by the darkness. It never carried more than an arm’s length in front of him.

Whatever it was, it squeaked and squealed, the same sounds Daron was familiar with when his parents died, the same one Fiora made when she had been hurt. It was the living embodiment of every kind of destruction Daron had ever known, and Fiora was there. She was illuminating a small pool of radiance around her and making herself a target. Daron could only see the dozens of ways she would be destroyed. Cut to pieces, like he had done to her earlier but in a thousand different ways.

It moved, this dark knight, and his swing would easily cut down Fiora. It would extinguish her light and then she would be gone. Daron would be alone with it again, only now he had no doors to impose a wall between them. He had no mail, no plates of steel. His hand was at his hip. He had no sword.

Neither did Fiora though, and she stood tall, facing down the creature with no fear.

“Hey!”

Daron was somehow in between the knight and Fiora. He didn’t remember moving there, nor did he remember shouting at it, but here he was. He could feel something, a strength he had never had before. There was something new and different and warm in this icy void.

Time seemed to freeze then, or perhaps he had simply caught the attacker off guard. Something had changed for certain. The knight was smaller now, still towering over Daron, but it was not the monolith it had been when he was running.

“Bold of you to accept death like this. Alone and unarmed. You are hardly a challenge.”

Its voice sounded like a thousand terrified screams, each one Daron himself had produced just for this thing to use as its voice.

He wasn’t alone though. Fiora was right behind him, she always was, and he could feel it.

“No more” Daron said, though his voice felt weak, it still carried. “I’m done letting you torment me.”

“You finally accept your doom then?”

The question was spoken over a chorus of chuckles, mocking Daron.

“I accept that you’re part of me, but only part of me. You don’t define me.”

“I AM YOU” the thing bellowed and readied the blade that would end Daron.

Daron could only mutter a reply. “Only if I let you be.”

“You are weak and defenseless. You have nothing.”

Daron looked over his shoulder. The light from Fiora’s smile seemed to grow and the pool of light she stood in now extended to encase him as well. He was on the very edge of it and the knight stood just beyond, in darkness.

“I have her.”

On some level Daron knew this was a nightmare. Only a figment of his mind addled with fear and regrets. He knew that the pain caused by the massive blade being plunged into his gut wasn’t real. But here, in this place, he felt it. Every screaming nerve hurt with a lifetime of sorrow thrust into it. He recoiled, staggering back, but remained on his feet. The sword was lodged inside of him, and was no longer in the knight's hands. Here, in his gut, it seemed so small, almost manageable.

It hurt, direly, and his body screamed in pain, but it was pain he could manage. It was pain he could accept. It was pain he could live with.

Once that acceptance swept over him, the sword shattered into a spray of glittering white particles that faded into nothing. He could still feel it though, as if it were still stuck inside of him. Blood flowed from a wound in his belly and he clapped his hands over it. He couldn’t stop the bleeding, and he felt weary, but a smile crossed his lips. If he had to die, it might as well be with no regrets.

Fiora’s hands offered a soothing balm to his pain. They didn’t remove it, far from it, but the sting was lessened. The wounds stopped bleeding, though they remained open. He looked up at her smile-

With a yelp Daron bolted upright in bed. Fiora was there with a look of concern already on her face but she fully fell off of the stool next to the bed as Daron sat up. He was panting, sweating, and his eyes were wide.

“Nightmare?”

Daron looked to Fiora as she picked herself and the stool up then quickly resumed her post next to him.

“You were tossing and turning a lot. Are..are you okay?”

Daron was confronted with a cascade of his own emotions. Good and bad.

“Yeah I’m..no, I’m really not.” He sighed and didn’t even have to ask before Fiora squeezed into bed next to him. She held him and didn’t say anything.

“I’m so sorry Fiora.” He began. “I’m so ashamed of what I did to you. I’m relieved you’re okay, but- I lost control and that’s not okay.”

He sighed.

“When I was a child, an enemy faction launched an assault on the castle. Probably just attempting to turn the tides of the war..but they had found some kind of ancient weapon..an automaton warrior.” His eyes darted to Fiora and then back down to his lap.

“My parents fought back a lot of that invasion, but a lot of good people lost their lives.”

Daron could physically feel the coiling darkness inside of his mind. It was screaming at him, telling him that he shouldn’t be saying this, that it was better to keep it contained. He was the only one who could keep it safely stored away.

“My parents died heroes to the valley. You remember that big shelter you found me in, when I was playing hide and seek with the children?”

She nodded.

“That was where-” His voice hitched in his throat for a moment. “Where they died. They pushed me in and locked the doors and fought back. They stopped the invasion but at the cost of their own life.”

“And you felt guilty because you survived and they didn’t?”

“I became lord of the castle and the sole protector of the valley that day. Titles really. There were a lot of people who still protected it, but I was definitely the new lord of the castle.”

“That’s why you hate to be called that.”

“Yes, and I just don’t feel like I really embody it. I much prefer the road. That’s why Helene takes care of the castle. She deserves to be in charge, not me.” He huffed. “She was actually the one who dealt the killing blow to the automaton that attacked the castle. My mother’s dagger was lodged in some weak spot in the armor and Helene managed to use that to fully disable the thing.”

Fiora nodded again and squeezed Daron. “I would have thought that would make you afraid of…of me…because I’m”

“You’re not like that thing.”

There was a moment of silence before Daron continued.

“I dreamt of it. The thing that killed my parents. I don’t know how, but I knew it was part of me. Like..Like it was a part of me.”

“A collection of all the things you dislike about yourself?”

Daron looked down at her and for a moment couldn’t decide if he wanted to cry again or kiss her.

“Exactly.” He whispered.

“What happened? In the dream I mean.”

“You were there. You stood up to it and it was going to kill you. I could see it swing at you and..and I just couldn’t let that happen. So I stood there and told it off and then it stabbed me.”

Fiora waited silently, knowing that there was more.

“And then…you were there…and you healed me, sort of. You made the pain go away.”

She giggled lightly, shifting her position to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll always be there to make the pain go away.”

“I know.” Daron replied. “That’s why I couldn’t let it hurt you.”

“Keep your useful things in good condition.”

He looked at her. His expression was hurt, confused, but more than anything it looked as if she had just said something remarkably silly.

“No. No not at all. No.” He shook his head. “You’re not a thing. You never have been, you’re just as real as any person in the castle. As me or..or anyone.”

“Even though I’m-”

“Fiora.”

It was enough to halt her. She just looked at him, seeing the pain on his face, the welling tears in his eyes. She pressed her lips together into a thin line and nodded. He was right.

“And how do you feel now?” She asked.

“Raw. Honestly, but..better.” He looked into her eyes. “As long as I have you, I’ll be okay.”

They held one another for a long time. The day passed lazily around them and soon the chambermaids arrived to clean the room and the pair rapidly scrambled to remove themselves. Daron had completely forgotten to tidy himself up at all, so mud splattered and dust covered, they made their way back to Daron’s horse, and from there, the castle.

Once there, a small crowd had been vigilantly watching after rumors spread about Fiora’s injury. There were a number of false tidbits of information, all of which were corrected as the pair arrived and assured that they were safe. They excused themselves, saying that Daron clearly needed a bath and Fiora likely needed one as well. That was more than enough to satisfy the curious and put new gossip in their mouths.

Three weeks passed. Daron and Fiora continued their sparring, but Daron now insisted on a proper set of sparring armor for both of them. Daron’s nightmares weren’t wholly gone, though they were greatly diminished and replaced with a simple feeling of dread and regret at times. Nothing tangible or as real as the terror he experienced in Jarin.

Soon the seasons began to transition. The once warm sunny days gave way to cooler days. The sky was marred with gray clouds and rain washed the land. It was on one of these darker days that a courier on horseback trot through the gates and delivered a letter to Helene, who in turn smirked and handed it over to Daron.

True to her word, Eloise had arranged a new contract for them and let him know that they would be arriving in the castle in two days.

“I better get to work then.” Fiora commented as Daron let her know.

“With what?” Daron asked.

Her smile was the only answer he got, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

The three companions were welcomed into the castle with the same fanfare as always, though Daron wasn’t there to usher them into the private dining hall. He left that up to Helene. She stepped in and announced them by name as they filtered in.

Hakenos, Eloise, and Tanila were wearing the most casual outfits they could afford to pack in their travel bags. Comfortable, but unfitting of a lord's banquet. Daron and Fiora sat at the head of their table, dressed in a fine crushed shirt and polished boots, and in Fiora’s case an elegant dark gown, trimmed in gold and brass and sporting a high collar. She had insisted on it, it was her favorite wardrobe piece.

“Well well.” Eloise began.

“Markezian honey pastries?”

Hakenos’s voice silenced everyone. He was pointing at something. A pile of treats on the table, nestled among the roasted meats and fine cheeses.

“Fiora made them. I might have mentioned that you liked them.” Daron confirmed.

Guests were seated and food served. It was like no time at all had passed and the four original companions jeered at one another and exchanged stories, or grunts, of their exploits since they last parted. It was clear that all of them wanted to hurry through their stories and get to Daron.

“You know.” Eloise remarked. “We had a little pool going. About you and-” She nudged her chine towards Fiora.

“Do tell.” Daron replied.

“Hakenos said you would forget to unpack it.”

Hakenos grunted and shrugged, clearly disappointed but produced a gold coin and slapped it onto the table.

“Tanila?” Daron asked.

“W-well I thought you were going to just make her a serving girl and make her rub your feet and stuff. Y-you know like…I don’t know..” She flicked a coin onto the table and blushed.

“Eloise?”

“Sex.”

That garnered a boisterous round of laughter, even from Fiora who had, until now, simply sat and smiled and listened. Though as the laughter died down she spoke.

“There’s only two coins on the table.” Fiora noted.

Eloise raised an eyebrow and looked from Daron to Fiora and back. Both smirked at her but gave no ground.

“Learn to live a little.” Eloise said and tossed a coin onto the table before pouting.

“So, what did happen?” Tanila squeaked. “Because you two seem-”

“Happy.” Hakenos grunted past a mouthful of pastry. Daron wasn’t sure if the comment was about him, or the pastry.

“Well.” Fiora said. “It all started when Daron forgot to unpack me for a day-”

Hakenos bolted upright.

“He gave me a job as a serving girl..”

Tanila let out a single ‘ha!”

Fiora looked at Eloise, her face expectant and a smile just barely contained on her lips.

“Go ahead.” Daron said, placing his hands into his palms. The room erupted into laughter and more mirth than he had expected. The night lasted a long while and a more thorough recounting played out. Fiora, as it turned out, made an excellent storyteller. Once the tale concluded the five spent the rest of the evening enjoying her very delightful company, listening to her songs and elbowing Daron.

They would leave in the morning, setting off on the road again.In his quarters Daron made sure Fiora was ready for that. It was a very different experience than lounging in the castle. A fact that made her purse her lips and playfully punch him in the arm before melting into a kiss with him. They quickly fell into bed and resumed their kiss and let it taper out into its natural end.

“Fiora.” Daron muttered, precariously wobbling on the edge of sleep.

“Mmm?”

“You wanna know something?”

“Of course,” She whispered.

“I love you.”

Daron was gone then. It was the very last thing on his mind as he slipped into sleep, so he didn’t see the bright flare of arcane light inside of Fiora’s chest. It flared up and then cooled, sending ripples of magical tingles across her skin. She was blushing, for certain, and she settled down into bed next to Daron, wrapping her arms around him. The subtle mixture of energy from Daron and the mystical arcane from inside of her permeated the air. Some of it even slipped deep into the crystal powering Fiora.