Chương 24: Chapter 22

Mallorn the elf The distinct feeling of fingers running through his hair and his head laying upon a warm lap was one he was familiar with. Mostly from all the times he had been forced to nap in just such a position after his teacher had beaten him into the ground. Normally, his legs would be resting against soft, ticklish grasses, his body would be pained, and the smells of wildflowers and holly would be in his nose.

Right now, however, he was experiencing no pains in his body, no ticklish grasses, and the smell was of vanilla, myrrh, and peaches. He was suspended on a light material, weightless but warm and dry. The fingers combing through his hair were delicate but firm, and the song being hummed was not one he was familiar with. This was all very strange, because he distinctly remembered being beaten into a pulp by a dragon, meaning that he should be quite battered at the moment.

Meaning that either he had been taken to some manner of hospital in the capital, or he had been kidnapped again. He was also sure that he had never smelled myrrh in his life, so he had no idea how he identified it. Irritably, he cracked open his eyes. The action was effortless, with no craggly bits to keep them shut. The light around was bright but soft, diffused through many thin sheets of white and gold, and caused no pain to his awakening vision.

There was a small, amused hum as he forced himself into wakefulness, glaring up and about his surroundings as he did. Just as his senses had told him, his head was resting in the lap of an unknown woman. A beautiful face smiling down upon him, red-eyed and white-haired. She wore a tall golden crown, which expanded outwards akin to a halo as it rose. Her ears were long in the fashion of elves, but they were feathered and occasionally flapped, revealing themselves to be tiny white wings.

These ears were pierced regardless, a long string of golden and delicately carved orbs hanging down to either side of her thin neck, which bore a large, broad golden collar and chains that framed her shoulders and figure. These held up a thin white dress of silk and cloth, which in turn was tucked into another great golden band that wrapped around her torso just under her breasts. The breasts which were currently obscuring half of his view.

Her little smile widened as she looked into his eyes, provoking an annoyed grumble from him as he rose from his rest and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. After exhaling and waking up in full, he cast his gaze to his surroundings, eyebrows raising as he took it all in. There wasn't much to actually look at, mostly just layers and layers of thin silk sheets that hung from a dozen golden bars that came from a sort of cap above and descended far past the fluffy platform he was sitting upon.

Beyond that, naught but endless sky, seemingly set during the late evening or early morning and casting everything in bright red and gold. The world below disappeared into a sea of cloud-cover, and the sky above was reddish and covered in brightly-twinkling stars. Immediately adjacent to him, on either side of his seated form, two immense, white-feathered wings stretched and gently fluttered.

A quick glance to the white and gold clad woman behind him revealed that they belonged to her, as did another set of wings that wrapped around her waist and served as a sort of skirt. Most notable was the long tail that emerged from behind her, covered in a dense layer of warm, fluffy downy feathers and currently laid over his waist like a blanket. He was as naked as he'd been before, gripping the double-headed golden axe and skin bare save his scars.

Taking all of this in, he focused on the most pertinent question at hand.

"Angels have tails?" he asked dryly, turning towards the white and gold clad woman who had been singing lullabies to him. She smiled, wing-ears fluttering amusedly in a way that was distinctly uneasy. It was almost like how elven ears twitched around to convey emotions, but significantly more. More motions, more nuances, more things happening while she did it.

He had twenty years of learning to decipher the emotions of elves from the twitches of their ears, and the motions of those wings were nigh-incomprehensible to him.

"Only some," she replied, a voice that was soft but firm, amused and severe. Faintly, it rang like steel. The tail rose to brush against his chest, filling his nose with the smell of vanilla and myrrh before dropping back to his lap again.

"Thy prayer has been heard, Strong Moon." He groaned, raising a hand up to palm his face and leaning forwards, twinges of embarrassment carrying through his veins.

"I was half-hoping no one was listening," he muttered, casting his gaze to the side and steadfastly ignoring the delighted little giggles from the angel. Mostly so he didn't have to look at those wing-ears and their overly-complicated fluttering.

"Precious boy," she cooed, tail brushing against him in a comforting manner.

"Fear not- t'was earnest and humble, and thus received in its intent." Her amused tone indicated that she was still laughing at him, but at least she was speaking plainly.

"I imagine you're either Amarami or one of her messengers then," he said, pushing the tail back down to cover his crotch. There was really no need to have that exposed right now, he was pretty sure trying to seduce an angel would get you sent to hell or something.

"The later- I am not the Father's Consort, but in this I speak with her voice." The Angel allowed her tail to settle, speaking with the same steel-ringing but cotton-soft voice.

"Thy prayer has been heard, aid has been rendered, and thy service to the Holy Consort accepted as price for such." Perform a task in exchange for whatever help the all-mother had sent his way earlier. Nice and clear-cut so far.

"Service for a particular task or a particular duration?" he asked with a little nod and did his best to lock eyes with the Angel.

"A task to settle thy debt, and further service if you find the labor agreeable." The Angel smiled in a somewhat sad manner, wings fluttering slowly.

"One who seeks freedom from their earthly ties may find it in servitude to the Father's Will, there are few among your people who would forbid this." He stared at her for a long few moments, before letting out a long sigh.

"I suppose it's natural for the divine to be aware of my strained relations." He maintained an annoyed and weary tone as he said this, before nodding gratefully.

"That's very kind of you, lady Angel, I shall keep it in mind as I work to settle my debt. Speaking of-" He gave a little gesture to indicate his curiosity. The Angel nodded agreeably as she continued." The Holy Consort empowers champions to guard the world from the depravations of the Wyrm and her kin- The Chosen Heroines they are called in earthly tongues, and although their spirits are great, they are not unconquerable." He could already tell exactly where this was going.

"Seek out the Chosen Heroine of this era, axe in hand, and render aid to her cause. To strike down the Demon King, to lay low his blasphemous Lords, and to drive back their impure armies." The Angel spoke with a great deal of gravitas, eyes glowing red and ringed in gold, wings spread wide and radiant with soft twilight light. He nodded.

"I shall, but a question persists."

"And that is?" The voice echoed off air and silks. He stared for a few moments more, before grimacing and raising a hand up to the back of his neck.

"So long as I just help her martially, that's fine right? I don't have to join her harem, correct? Because speaking truthfully, I'm much too jealous for that." The Angel stared at him for a long, tense silence. He glanced from side to side, trying to look at something else in response to her intimidating stillness. Finally, the silence was broken.

"... pft-" Mallorn felt a rather unamused expression come over his face as the Angel repressed her amusement at him, lip wobbling and ears fluttering about.

"Pft- pft… pweh-" Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"I'm guessing that's a 'no'." He didn't bother trying to conceal how dry his voice had gotten. The ear-wings came down to cover her mouth in a similar fashion to someone using a hand to cover it, and her shoulders began to shake in amused giggles at his concerns. The tail squeezed around him, coiling as her feet kicked and her wings came down to cover them both. It was kinda like a tent, kinda like a hug.

All the while he maintained a flat stare towards her face, as she descended further and further into a laughing fit at his expense. She contained herself just long enough to chance a glance in his direction. He gave a polite but frustrated smile and tilted his head. She collapsed completely thereafter, falling forwards to embrace him in an all-appendages hug, body shaking in gleeful laughter.

It was nice to be hugged by an angel, her skin immaculate, flesh soft, feathers warm and gentle, and coiling, fluffy tail like hugging a heated body-pillow. It was like her entire body was designed to be the perfect hugging machine. It was just a shame that the reason she was clinging to him was because she couldn't sit up straight at the moment. Because she was laughing at him.

He used to be able to take a joke better, but after living with elves for twenty years his patience was substantially less than it was before.

"Can I wake up yet? I'd rather be dealing with the fractures right now." Her laughter intensified, face buried into his chest, shaking him about with mirth.

"F-fear not- pweheh- nothing of that- pshehe- will be required of you-huehue." She tried her best to speak through laughs, dignity ruined by her delight at his very reasonable considerations.

"I-I am- hehehe- I am L-labrys, and I-aieaieaie- will be your guide on th-this most ho-hol-heheheh."

"La-Labrys huh?" He asked with raised brows and an irritated tone.

"That's too long, I'll call you Lala for short." She was in the middle of her self-destruction, and wasn't able to refute his declaration. She tried desperately to work through the next bit of 'official' business.

"S-sheheheh simply pray, a-ahahah axe in hand, and I-I I will appear in y-yueyueyue druh-dreams." He, blasphemously, raised his hands to pinch her cheek and stomach, making the angel yelp in her giggles and pulling her back from how she clinged to him. Holy shit, her skin was super-pinchable. Incredibly soft but with an immensely satisfying squeeze. He marveled in it for a moment, even as she giggled through a pinched cheek and tried to wiggle out of his pinching fingers.

"S-shuh- stuhp hehehe."

"No, I have been insulted by your conduct," he declared bluntly.

"Men are paid in pence, Angel Lala, I will take it from your skin." He emphasized his position with another set of pinches and tugs, the angel doing her best to stop this by squeezing tighter around him and wiggling. He lost track of time that way, pinching and tugging at the giggling Angel as she wiggled and squeezed him. It could have been hours or moments, but eventually his eyes grew heavy, and his shoulders slumped.

And his head returned to her lap, fingers tracing through his hair, and delighted hums in his ears. And he returned to slumber. — He awoke to the sound of a tiny, panicking rant and a truly immense amount of pain. His eyes were crusty, his limbs were heavy, and overall he felt rather awful. Everything around him smelled like copper and stone, with the faint scent of apples and cinnamon in the distance.

This feeling was not made better by the familiar voice of a bothersome little nanny twinkling about on bells and rambling above his head.

"And of course he goes out an- a minute and I would've completed the circle and he- only had to stay still and be safe and he decides to- oh I feel sick-" He let out a long groan, raising his hand up to cover his face. The ranting immediately changed course, the annoying bells coming down to hover directly over his face and dragging him further and further out of sleep.

"Rasil, Rasil, baby, baby, are you okay- why did you say that Teg, you idiot, of course he's not alright! Baby, just stay still, mommy's on her way okay?"

"Teg," he grumbled, rubbing the crust from his eyes and briefly wishing he was wrestling the angel again.

"Let me- ugh- let me wake up first."

"Don't move- you're hurt so badly! You- I don't have enough mana to heal you you stupid- please go slow!" The tiny fairy that had babysat him for most of his life pressed her little hands against his chest, trying ineffectually to stop him from rising. This was after healing then? He grumbled, blinking slowly to take in the scene of the cave and gently scratching at his chest.

The tapestry-mantle around his shoulders was thoroughly soaked in blood, prompting him to reach up and fumble with the improvised tie until it fell off his neck and freed him up to move. His right hand was still holding the axe. Good, it was a pretty cool axe. His gaze wandered until it reached the sight of the immense corpse of Malamadr, red-gold scales stained in blood and mouth opened, revealing a truly terrible gash carved in the roof of her mouth. A sharp, victorious grin overtook his face.

He almost laughed, but the effort made his ribs explode in pain so he quickly suppressed it. He raised a hand up to gently catch Teg, reaching up to place her on top of his head as he forced himself up to his feet. He was covered in a horrific amount of blood. Blood from him and the dragon, mostly the dragon, pooling among the hoard of gold enough to form a tiny lake. He wasn't sure how it was all up here still and not running down into the spring…

"Were you watching my fight, Teg?" he asked proudly, pushing himself to his feet by bracing on the golden axe and steadying himself.

"I was watching my baby almost kill himself, yes! You harebrained- gah! I don't even have words for it!" Tiny fists smacked against his head, he could feel a deliberate gentleness in them even as weak as they already were. His smile fell slightly and his brows furrowed as she continued to thrash, tiny sobs filling her voice.

"You- you idiot! Wh-why did you- I was ready to write the circle. One minute later and mommy would've been here, you endangered yourself for no reason!" He let out a long sigh.

"Teg, how would I have known that?" He spoke logically, even knowing that it wasn't going to bring any comfort to the tiny nanny.

"As far as I was aware, it was up to me and me alone to free myself."

"And most importantly!" he declared, pointing at the immense corpse.

"I did it! I'm alive! I won!" She continued to cry against his head, hands gripping his hair as if he was going to disappear at any moment. He let his shoulders fall, a long and disappointed sigh coming from his lips. Not even a 'congratulations' from the nanny, huh? Was it so much to ask that they celebrate his achievements, not just despair the risks involved? He rubbed his face with his hand, eventually letting it drop as he asked a question." I suppose mother isn't far behind if you're here, Teg.

From the injuries, I suppose she was the one to cripple the dragon before it came back?" A pure guess on his part, he had no idea if mother was capable of that. She was apparently a very powerful sorceress, but all he'd ever seen from her had been nifty little tricks. A tiny, wet nod against his scalp. A familiar probably had ways to talk to the master over range, if he remembered his fantasy tropes correctly.

Magical education wasn't planned to cover them for another fifty years, so he was going on guesswork for the most part.

"Well tell her to give me a bit to find something to wear- I'm naked right now," he grumbled, limping forwards slowly and casting his gaze around for another tapestry not covered in blood.

"Irrelevant." A voice called out from above and beyond- towards the entrance of the cave. His face pulled into an irate expression as he rotated his lower half away from that direction. Framed by the light of the cavern entrance and the cold winds, the rings of a newly-born portal gate behind her, and flanked by a number of Elven knightmaids, stood his mother, the Lady Greenwood. Like every other elf in the world, her 'battle attire' was bothersomely slutty.

She descended towards him in leaps, even as the knightmaids flanked around the perimeter of the cave, searching for threats and ears pulling up in alarm as they beheld the corpse of the dragon and his bloodstained form. She ignored both, jumping down one final time and splashing her heels heedlessly in the blood as she approached. He was expecting a slap, insult, or reprimand. That would be downright typical of the elves.

What he had not been expecting was a delicate embrace, arms wrapping around him and nose buried in his shoulder.

"I- I'm still naked be carefu-""Beloved childe." She cut him off with a small utterance, arms squeezing as tightly as she dared.

"Just for a day more- return to our homely house. Just for a day- be safe." His shoulders remained tense for a moment, before slumping in time with a melancholic frown growing on his face. She seemed significantly more distressed than he had been expecting, and he was forced to consider that perhaps she cared much more about him than she ever let on. He raised his arms and wrapped around his mother, squeezing hesitantly as he replied.

"I wasn't expecting a hug," he admitted with an uncomfortable scowl.

"I don't remember ever getting one before." She gently rubbed circles into his back.

"We've embraced you many times, when you were small. Too small to remember, it seems," she muttered back.

"And you pushed away as you grew old enough to walk, more and more. We waited for you to reach for us, but you never did." His brows furrowed.

"Our brave boy, bold and bright, wither have you gone? We should have chased you with more vigor."

"I'm right here," he muttered back, face pinched as he replied.

"... Can I keep the treasure, at least?"

"Anything, our bone-gathering boy. Anything you wish. Simply return for another day." His face twisted up further. His mother was uniquely talented at making him feel like an asshole.