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Anthro Sex Squad Story 3 - Oaky's Story By Killenor Arc 1 - Origins Chapter 13

"Stop." Winky said suddenly, "We're close."

Ermana halted in her tracks, shivering against the chill of the evening. Scanning the dark forest for whatever signs Winky had found. After a few moments, she gave up, seeing only dark trees and underbrush.

"Close to what?" whispered Ermana, wincing at her loudness in the dark. Offhand she wondered how the snakeman could be so quiet, "How can you be sure?"

"I see a hut up ahead." Winky said condescendingly, "and I've been noticing signs of toad civilization for a league and more... also I've been to this portion of the forest before. Oaky's people come from here."

"What does that mean?" Ermana demanded.

"It means..." Winky said with a hint of uncertainty, "it means that whatever took Oaky... must be in league with... his people? Why would a water fey care at all about a bunch of isolationist toads? Normally most fey avoid civilization. All but the malicious and trickster ones that is."

"Oh this is a bad thing," Ermana said ominously, "Whatever this blight is... the one you said isn't here... I'm betting it's not caused by some disease. I'd guess it's a manifestation of the fey."

"They fey wouldn't work to destroy the natural world!" Winky snapped suddenly, setting Ermana on edge, "These folk live in relative harmony with nature. They depend on it. Why would a fey harm that?"

"Not all fey are good... or even benign really." Ermana insisted. "They can be as nasty and mean as any sentient... nastier really. And like you just now said, the malicious and trickster types don't avoid civilization. You can't trust the fey."

"What do you know about it?" Winky continued his snappish response. "The fey are only in it for their own amusement. What would ruining this forest gain them? Besides, where are the signs?"

"Warm waters, Oaky said," Ermana countered, trying to keep her cool, "insects emerging at the wrong times. Things going wrong all over. A blight doesn't always look like black tar seeping from everywhere. Sometimes it is more subtle."

"The fey are the cause." came a mysterious voice from somewhere behind them. Both the human and the snake whirled about, making ready to confront some new danger. "And the subtle changes in the forest are not the worst of the blight. The blight I've told my pupil of taints the hearts and minds of my people as well as the forest around them."

As silently as a falling leaf, Old Grubber leapt down from the tall branches where he had been hiding. The limits of fragile toad anatomy seemed not to matter to the wizened male as he touched down gracefully on a carpet of leaves, sticks and other forest debris. He landed upright, a position that surely should have broken his knees and hips had he been acting under the normal rules of mortals. Not a leaf or mote of dust was disturbed as he landed, the air itself having responded to his need and cushioned his fall.

"Who are you old toad?" Winky said impetuously, an arrow fitted and drawn, with a solid bead that had been upon the mysterious figure before he had completed half his descent. How he had moved so quickly, Ermana had no clue.

A wave of Grubber's wrinkled hand saw Winky's arrow fall from his grasp, the wood as flimsy as new leaves. The feather fletchings became whole once again and blew away in a spontaneous breeze and the iron of the arrowhead pulled in dirt around it, becoming a plain lump of ore.

"Please, threaten me naught archer." Grubber said condescendingly before his introduction, "I am Grubber, the Pond Watcher of the village you near. As for your predicaments, I have come to help. I am concerned for the well-being of those in my charge."

"You..." Ermana said, realization dawning as her alertness fled, "You're Oaky's mentor. I've heard him speak of you."

"I was unaware that my student had been, ahem, fraternizing. He was supposed to be enacting the will of the natural world for the betterment of all." Grubber said in an even tone that betrayed neither disappointment nor approval.

"I... I charmed him." Ermana admitted. "He realized my trickery though and now we are friends."

Grubber took a long, steadying breath through his nose. After a moment's consideration, he acknowledged her words with a simple statement of "I see." A statement that was tinged with a sudden surge of jealousy hidden just below his words.

"Well let me just get down to business," Grubber said suddenly, "I have information about our mutual threat... and information to help you on your own task."

"What do you know?" Winky demanded, anger simmering in his voice, "and if you know of Oaky's whereabouts why then have you not helped him yourself."

"Calm young one," Grubber said slowly, condescending to to woodsman as if he were a child, "there are reasons for everything. And if you listen well, I'm sure you'll learn something."

Winky gritted his needle-like teeth, showing the old toad a picket of shimmering opalescent white. Grubber returned the stare with one of blank indifference. Ermana, meanwhile, looked between both nervously, afraid that the abrasive snakeman might start an unnecessary fight. She was also fairly sure that she could guess who would win.

"As it happens," Grubber continued, "I do know where Oaky is, generally, and I know a fair deal about the fey creatures and the blight. The reason I haven't done anything yet is..." he paused and let a bit of emotion creep back in to his voice, "...I'm out of my league."

The old toad looked just a bit worried, something that deeply unnerved the pair as they watched. His displays of power so far were just the leaf on what was surely a very large tree. For him, who was so steeped in the power of growth and adaption to admit such a thing was humbling at best.

"The fey are far too numerous, far too powerful. I don't know if I could handle a single one honestly. Certainly not since the ones I am aware of bend the natural laws at their whim, caring nothing for balance or what they hurt. They cannot be stopped by me alone and if I tried to save my protege I fear that they would change their view from one of ignorance... they don't see me as a threat... to an annoyance to be dealt with."

"And... we?" Ermana interjected, "We are the ones you think are able to rescue Oaky? You think we can defeat these fey that are blighting a whole region?! How could we possibly help?!"

"You probably can't," Grubber sighed, "but I think you can at least find him without arousing the notice of the fey... maybe."

"Maybe?!" both shouted.

"Take it or leave it," the old toad said solemnly, "is not a slim chance better than none at all? And with Oaky's help, I would at least have some sort of chance to drive them off. Oaky is more powerful than I am... he always has been. With him, we might be able to turn the tide on everything. With him, we would truly have the power to overthrow the council."

"A council of prostitutes..." Ermana guessed, drawing stares from the males, "Oaky and I discussed a few things. He told me of your council of elders and the way things work in your society. I'm guessing if you're trying to overthrow the council and stop the blight... they must be involved with the fey that are ruining things."

"Quite a brain in that one," Grubber said offhandedly to Winky, casting him a sidelong glance, "she's right, of course." then he turned his gaze to her, staring directly into her eyes, "But what is a prostitute?"

***

Myco hadn't a clue where they were. He only knew that he was frightened, not just of his betrayal, but of his companion. Oaky still flickered with unnatural, otherworldly, and totally strange energies. Not once since their flight had he even touched the ground. His eyes were brilliant and golden, shining like beacons even in the fullness of day. Every so often, something around him would... change. Leaves would change color or curl into springtime buds, animals would spontaneously appear, breezes would stir pulling either toward or away from him, and eerie sparks and arcs leaped around his fingers and toes. Each step he took, though it did not touch the ground, left a patch of moss, a flower, a plume of rotten vegetation, or a spray of crawling insects.

He had not said a word since their flight. In many ways, he had barely reacted to his surroundings. Only following, his gaze even seemed lost and distant, as if he were struggling inside. Myco knew of only one place that he trusted in times such as these, his personal hideout, and hoped fervently that none were following them.

***

Oaky was aware...

Everything seemed clear to him, as if the world around him was yielding up its secrets without him even asking. Like sycophants did each rock and fragment of life call to him, each invisible mote of air sung its song, all eager to share themselves with him. He could feel things bending around him to a will beyond consciousness. He felt the underlying currents of the other realms beyond these places mortal. This was the power of the fey, liberated and absolutely free. With it, none of his actions needed consequence and no effect needed action. Beyond this was only willpower.

He could feel this awareness stretch out from him, pushing the boundaries of the standard three directions. Through himself he could move the world, transcent seasons, times of day, dates, or even matter itself. Nature was not a rigid substance, it was a plaything. The gods themselves and their powers could be toys! Nothing was beyond his whim!

But now, with his ultimate freedom, Oaky hadn't the faintest of ideas what to do with it. It was ebbing from him, but it didn't have to. He could change that... and so he did. With the barest effort, more an idle fantasy, he altered the rules of his mortal form to contain the limitless power of total freedom. It had taken no time, no effort, and only the most basic desire. That finished, he opened his mind to the ultimate ability of the fey realm. He realized the fundaments of all being, the reason the fey had rules and played their part in the great game beyond all things.

He saw the reason for limitations, the reason for breaking them, and the unending enjoyment and occupation it brought to that which was beyond all things. And in that infinitesimal eternity he saw the uncountable strands of his destiny. He saw where it was he was supposed to be. He met endless copies of himself, all subtly different that they might participate on the other game boards. All had come to the same power and influence, though none from the exact same source. Through such a lofty vantage, he also saw the uncountable versions of himself for which there would never be such power.

And then, just like that, he decided his place... they all did... and simply set things back in place.

Oaky was a child of nature, blessed by all things that grow and change. His power over such matters was thanks to the whim of one of the players in the godgame.

"It is finished." Oaky said suddenly, the light gone from his eyes, "now we can get on with our tasks."

He glanced around at a nervous Myco, sitting among a hoard of ill-gotten treasures. His senses had to struggle to catch up, now that they were again those of a normal mortal. He surveyed the piles of finery, luxury goods, and objects of art.

"Seems you were busy in the time I was gone..." he commented neutrally, "not that I really approve."

"I... I..." Myco stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure, "I saved you! What in all the boiling underworlds makes you think you can criticize?!"

"I," Oaky said sternly, catching Myco's eyes with a withering stare, "saved us both. But thank you for freeing me from the ceiling."

Myco crossed his arms and made known his grumpiness at such an event. "Now we're sure to be hunted. Fey don't just attack you, they can seek vengeance for generations after you are dust."

"Well, no worries for me then," Oaky retorted sourly.

"What are we to do?!" Myco shouted, "We can't fight them! We barely managed to escape when your eyes were all... glowy. Nevermind that the whole of the council is in league with them! Nevermind that every last toad knows us! Nevermind that we're ALONE in a muddy CAVE!"

"Be silent a while Myco," Oaky demanded firmly.

At that, Myco felt he had nothing more to say. Try though he might, and fret though he did, he could not bring a single thing to voice.

"You and I certainly have one thing in common now," Oaky mused, "we can both steal."

Myco cocked his head questioningly.

"You steal things. It's very obvious. But now I've learned how to steal power. I've also made a few... improvements to myself that should be fairly interesting in the future. I tried to give it all back, but you know, it sure is tempting to just have everything you want. Besides... in my case it wasn't against the rules. I almost want to say that something... urged me."

He gestured to the walls, each in turn, and through willpower alone changed them into solid, dry bricks of clay. The sound was akin to the bending of thousands of reeds. When it was done, the muddy hideout was a stately, clean, and presentable room. A bowl of fresh worms and insects, drawn from the mud and assembled from it as well, sat upon the ground beside a similar vessel full of clean, clear water.

"Time for lunch I would think... I haven't eaten well in some time." Oaky intoned in a sagely voice, "While we dine, tell me what has become of Ripple. And then tell me everything you know about the council."

***

Sassafras opened her eyes to find her vision wildly out of focus. Immediately she reached to rub her eyes, but only one hand found its way to her face. Now panicked, she leaped to her feet, but immediately fell as one gave out under her, crumpling at the weight like a dry twig under a stone. She cried out in pain as the fall jarred her mercilessly, but then held still, confounded that her voice didn't sound like it should. Gasping for breath she crawled toward her mirror as one of her eyes finally managed to focus.

A scream cut the morning silence.

She was a monster! No portion of her body matched any other! One eye, the one she could see from, was shining clear and bright as the day she crawled from the pond, the other was cataract-ed and dull, as if it had aged another dozen years beyond her already considerable forty-five! Half her tail had come back, bearing a fin that belonged underwater and had no use upon land. One leg was that of a middle-aged female, the other decrepit and broken. Similarly her arms differed, one healthy and strong like that of a young one, the other just a developing nub! Patches of skin seemed slippery and new while others were wrinkled and dry or vibrant and healthy. It was as if every year of her life had a portion on her current form!

Then she heard something. The swirl of dust scraping across the floor, blown along by a wind that simply shouldn't exist indoors sounded clearly from behind the mirror.

"Who... who's there?" she croaked with a voice that was a patchwork of age.

Dust motes poured from under the mirror opening, writing into a face stretched into a mask of pain and regret. It opened it's faux-mouth in silent screams that turned into winces and clenched anguish.

"Damos? Is that you?" Sassafras moaned, "What has happened?"

"We... we are all that remains," grated an agonized voice that was made of fragments of multiple voices, "Damos... Aaahwheewey... Bli'phli'ba... we are dying."

"Tell me what did this! Why have we been cursed so?!" the toad demanded.

"Our essence... gone. We are but mortal remnants now... the Lady In Red will be swift to follow. You toads... your toads are to blame." the tortured voice of the crawling dust-face said, "The one from the ceiling... the one that sneaks... they... they..."

Unable to sustain itself, the face collapsed into a simple puff of dust. Inert, it lay upon the floor, crumbling into ever smaller bits as the fey-essence that remained bled away from it in glittering light. Sassafras watched as the last of the light left the pile, turning it to plain grey powder that faded from view completely. Fear, a terror beyond comprehension, gripped her mind. Oaky and Myco, if the dust was to be believed, had slain three fey-folk, each of whom had command over one of the old classic elements; earth, water, and air. How those two, one trapped in the ceiling, the other too cowardly to do something so brazen, had managed this was beyond comprehension! Further, they had altered her to this hideous form while she slept and made their escape!

What baffled her most of all was how Oaky could have escaped at all. Surely Myco had no love for his old rival... well, no... no one truly felt jealous of Oaky. Still, so power hungry was that young male that he surely couldn't have thought to betray her and free the protege pond watcher.

It must have been Grubber! Somehow, she couldn't begin to guess how with the Pond Watcher's mysterious ways, he must have known that Oaky was captured! He must have disguised himself and snuck in to free Oaky... if Myco had been in the way...

She still felt a cold dread that the two most dangerous toads, the ones who could foil her plan, were now together, with power enough to defeat not one, but three fey-creatures with their magicks, and knew that she was definitely in league with the fey! The council would believe them, they would see her twisted form and denounce her. If they didn't order her executed outright, they would surely imprison her... make her existence terrible for the rest of her surely short life!

What worse to happen then, but a knock at the door! Sassafras jerked her head, receiving the pain of a cracking neck for her trouble. There was a shadow gleaming as light should from around the doorframe. This baleful incandescence darkened the room, but seemed to form a patch of brightness in front of the door. A tall, imposing figure, was silhouetted in dark velvet blue shadow, shot through with fierce dark green.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" said the bright silhouette in a deep, heavy feminine voice.

"I... I wasn't..." Sassafras stuttered.

"As if I needed your permission. Do you think us bound by such things as doors and privacy?" the voice said, carrying a regal tone with its degrading statement.

The bright area of absent shadow seemed to draw the urlight into it, coalescing into a figure of contrasting color to the aura of malice that surrounded it. She was beautiful, a sight to behold both awe-inspiring and dangerous. The fury of a storm flashed in her eyes and her every feature was sharp, royal, and perfect.

"My lady..." Sassafras attempted, hoping to plea for mercy she knew did not exist.

"Silence!" she said with a voice so sharp it could cut stone.

There was nothing Sassafras could do. She stared at this lady, a figure with the shape of a raven but with nothing that bespoke a natural origin. Clothed in robes of the purest red silk, bedecked with jewels set all about it, embroidered in impossible maroon knotworks, and trimmed in deep crimson web-casts, the Red Raven was as fey as her fallen comrades. Her feathers too were red, richly hued to a point were they hurt the eyes to look at for too long. And her eyes, like glittering cabochans of darkness, were red too. Were it not for her color, her ostentation and impossible perfection, and the otherworldy actions she so often partook, she might have passed for normal.

"You have failed me," said the damningly smooth and rich voice, though her beak moved not at all.

"It wasn't..." Sassafras interrupted.

"You think I don't KNOW what transpired here today?!" she sniped, never losing her cool or shifting her perfect pose, "Do you honestly think me the fool in this situation? I gave you all that you wished. I gave you servants from my realm, youth as it pleased you, and whatever you commanded was yours... you only needed to distract your people away from our business. Now you have lost it all. And still you don't understand what is truly going on here. You are as blind as the rest of your pathetic people. But now I have come simply to reclaim what is mine. You have failed... and so you cannot have that for which we have bargained."

"Please! My lady, I beg you! I will finish them for you! I will do for you anything, just do not leave me in agony!" Sassafras begged, all pretense of pride utterly dismissed. Her twisted form begged and groveled upon the floor, "Let me reclaim what is lost! I'll do anything... I'll give anything!"

"But you already have," said the Red Raven, moving for the first time to stretch out her hand. One graceful sweep of that impeccable limb set her pointing at the mutated toad, "and I am here to collect."

Sassafras had no time to scream. Gone was all the youth that the Red Raven had granted her, pulled from her pores in invisible wisps like the shimmer of heat-haze. The borrowed years were taken from her, leaving her only a withered husk, long dead and mummified, as befitting her years combined with the time loaned to her.

The Red Raven turned, now wearing the body of a newly fledged girl, though still red as ever she was, and walked through the closed door and vanished.