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Terramagica

Chapter 04

(Rock and Troll)

Written by Leo_Todrius and Sabinmoon

Supported by my Patrons

There was something unique and oh so special about being a coastal city, something that made Breim seem as precious as a polished sand dollar. The sea air had a definite zest to it unlike anything from the plains to the deserts, from the mountains to the forests. It was exotic to tourists and it settled deep into the bones of the locals. It was a bit cooler than what one would expect, tinged with salt and brine and sand and the promise of a brighter, warmer sometime in the future. It was the smell of potential, the smell of possibilities. It was an aroma that Draeth caught at its strongest, starting his shifts at night and ending them in the early morning. It was a smell that was connected with an indelible memory of a sight so shocking and horrific, Draeth wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forget it.

Shock, fear and panic had followed the fateful discovery. The authorities had been called, then Sagen. A mage with insomnia had helped maneuver Draeth's find into Terramagica. Situated in the middle of the shop was a stone statue, one of the most detailed ones ever to grace the interior of any curio shop. The stone appeared to be some of the finest grain marble ever milled. It would have been a museum quality piece of art if it wasn't for the fact that it had been formed from a living being, from Oriron Errion. The look of surprise was still on his rock hard face, his hands outstretched, trying to hold on to whatever valuables they had been clutching.

Despite his sheer inability to help, Draeth had remained all night. His meaty arms were crossed in front of his stomach, his face torn in a mix of confusion, anger and despair. His rugged vest, piercings and stubble did little to hide just how much his large heart was hurting for his fallen comrade. Draeth's eyes darted back and forth from Ori to the only other soul in the shop, the owner and proprietor, the great wizard Sagen Teklic.

The satyr had been through much in his life. His long brown hair was often pulled back into a loose ponytail, showing off strands of grey mixed in like the bark of an ash tree. His horns were thick, curling around his pointed ears. A goatee ringed his lips, though stubble covered his cheeks almost thick enough for a beard. His hooves were scuffed and scratched, his gait a little hobbled. He'd had a long life, he'd seen much, he'd grown powerful but he'd grown weary at the same time.

Sagen had tried spells, enchantments, omens, tokens, and finally potions. He'd dribbled a few drops of a translucent green liquid onto Ori's stone hand. Sagen had grown still, Draeth had inhaled slowly… but the moments had passed and nothing changed. Sagen's brown eyes slipped shut as he exhaled slowly. Draeth's brow shot up at that before he shook his head.

“Hold on, that's not a good sigh. That's not a plan D kind of sigh…" Draeth protested. Sagen's head snapped up, his usually thinly veiled temper worn threadbare by the stress of the situation.

“I have tried everything at my disposal, even the last essential oils from the Mandragora Pernicious I had. This was no ordinary Gorgon that petrified Ori. I… do not believe we have the means to restore our friend. I have exhausted everything I have. We must tell his family, his mate…" Sagen admitted. Draeth glowered.

“Do YOU want to tell a werewolf it is time to grieve for the mate he just made? I'd much rather take him in my stride and tell him that the journey will not be easy, the path will be hard, but we will take on the quest to bring back our fallen friend!" Draeth proclaimed. Sagen glared.

“Do you think I give up on Ori with such triviality?" Sagen snapped, “The only possible answer has been lost for centuries…"

“All the more reason to take on the quest to find it! You are the wise Sagen Teklic, master of all he surveys… What has been lost can be found." Draeth grinned. Sagen's face remained tight and tired. His eyes surveyed Draeth and then Ori, The answer seemed too dangerous, too risky. Even if he had the proper ingredients, he wasn't sure if he should… He wasn't ready. Still, Draeth's optimism was infectious. The satyr reached up, rubbing at his pointed ear, taking a very long breath.

“I have something that might work… if we pair it with a missing ingredient. They say… Water from the river Oblidad, when prepared correctly, would make a body forget any curse it was under… But prepared incorrectly would make the soul forget its mortal life. It is a myth from a religion long forgotten." Sagen said. Draeth shook his head.

“Forgotten by some, but not by history." Draeth said, moving back behind the counter. He ducked down and started rooting through his bag before he popped back up, holding up his father's non-fiction book about the city triumphantly, “Behold!"

“I am beholding…" Sagen said wearily. Draeth opened the book up and flipped through the pages, his eyes half closed as he focused before he found the right passage.

“Ah-ha! There we go…" Draeth cleared his throat, “It was there, on 104th street that the old coins had fallen, wearing away the etchings on the ruins until all that was left was smooth cobble - but some things could not be worn away by time. Some stories lasted long past the lives of those that told them, like the story of the troll that guarded the river Oblidad, protecting the dead from those that would disrupt their slumber, and protecting the living from a fate worse than death."

The reading had been inspiring, full of power and intrigue. Despite the different ways that the Mazra family had gone, they were the descendants of powerful bards and it showed. Sagen, however, was still skeptical. He looked at his employee for a long moment before he gave a short nod. The satyr's hands moved, fingers swaying. The freshly installed windows rumbled and shook before they turned dark, blocking out the light from outside as they turned black. Grey goo began to stretch and dribble down, connecting in webs and stretching outward, bracing over the windows. Draeth's jaw dropped.

“I don't recognize that spell…" He whispered.

“It's the best I can do without the Abyssian Feldspar Ori was bringing. It's going to have to be enough while we go on our… quest." Sagen said. Draeth's eyes nearly sparkled in excitement at the word being uttered, but he knew better than to force Sagen to say it again.

“What do we need before we set out?" Draeth asked. Sagen took a breath.

“Traveling clothes, something to soothe the anger of a protective werewolf, and a quick wit for whatever riddles a troll might pose. Above all else? Luck. Now, let's go." Sagen said, moving toward the door. As he walked, his clothing seemed to sizzle and dissolve, forming a greenish-brown mist around him as the clothing reshaped. His long robes became a jacket, his loose pants tightened to leather and a long walking stick formed in his waiting hand. Even the band around his ponytail shifted from elastic to leather strapping.

“Wow…" Draeth whispered in wonder before he moved to follow after Sagen, stopping just long enough to pat Ori's stone shoulder companionably, “We'll get you out of there buddy." He said with a smile before he moved out of the shop, tugging the door shut behind him. As it sealed, the glass in the door turned black and more grey webs grew across the door, completing the protective barrier. The Terramagica fell quiet, Ori's stone form shrouded in shadow and silence.

****

Draeth had always considered himself a bit of an adventurer, ready for any quest and any opportunity to explore. He knew most of Breim like the back of his hand, but even with his knowledge of his father's history books, he'd never traveled as far as a Hundred and Forth street. It was a dense maze of urban alleys sitting in the shadow between Breim's lowlands and the well respected neighborhoods perched atop the Agrian Hill. The clatter of the subways echoed out of a dozen different tunnels dug deep into the hillside while other, smaller channels carried storm water and agricultural runoff.

One other factor dampening Draeth's enthusiasm came from the inclusion of one of their party. Sagen and Draeth had taken a detour to fill Mahno in on what happened. Now the six foot two werewolf walked a step behind the satyr and the bard, his eyes glowing with a wrath and fury that threatened to boil through the surface at any second. His usual tank top was covered up with a leather jacket with a wolf skull painted down the back. As the shadows fell over them Mahno nearly blended in, though his bronze colored mutton chops stood out as the one shock of color.

While Mahno moved like a shadow loosed from its master, each step Sagen took was punctuated by the placement of his walking stick. The satyr looked aged and experienced, wise but careful. It was a complete contrast to Draeth. He did not look afraid, but he did look a little out of place. His arms swung as he walked, his stride was confident, his eyes curious. His brow furrowed a little as he tried to decipher some graffiti on one of the apartments, not recognizing the language. His spiked vest, bracers and general grittiness at least helped him blend into the area a bit more.

“I've never seen a troll before. I've heard they're pretty formidable." Draeth said. Mahno scoffed, bearing his fangs.

“Hardly. They're waifish things that are as much hair as they are meat." Mahno said. Draeth looked confused.

“What about their tusks? I heard they were strong and rowdy and had long tusks?" Draeth said. Mahno's nose wrinkled up.

“I think you've gotten your legends mixed up, human." Mahno said. Both young men paused when they heard the absence of sound, realizing that Sagen had come to a stop.

“Will you two please be quiet?" Sagen murmured, “For the record, there are five living and three extinct species of troll that are all distinct. It does not matter what kind we are about to meet, only that we need them to grant our passage." Sagen whispered with a harshness to his voice. Mahno relaxed a little, trying to pull back from his show of force. Draeth gave a nod, not making direct eye contact with his master.

The light continued to dim as they moved beneath the overlapping layers of elevated rail lines carrying subway cars from point to point. Dust came down like silver waterfalls as one traveled far over head. Draeth had combed through his father's book before bringing them to a remote corner of a Hundred and Forth street. Sagen had been moving along at a steady pace, but as he set his walking stick down, the base caught in a crook in the otherwise smooth cobble stones. The satyr looked down, his eyes studying. Just as in Draeth's passage, everything had been eroded with time… except for the impression of a fang filled mouth with a long tongue. That particular stone was made out of a different material that withstood the test and wrath of time.

The satyr looked down at the impression for a long moment, his eyes tender as he thought back to his youth. He took a slow breath and raised his walking stick. As it lifted, the wood seemed to reshape and reform, wrapping and coiling around a glowing green egg like sphere. As Sagen brought the stick down into the imprint, his lips unleashed an ancient, forgotten word. Sparks shot out from the base of the stick, but glowing energy began to leak and gush from the stone, traveling along the grout. At first it moved in lines and seams, but the energy began to grow wilder as it moved. It started to curl and curve in fractal shapes, painting glyphs across the ground, spiraling outward in wider and wider circles until it struck the hillside. One of the tunnels began to glow, the moss clinging to the stones emitting a rich, cool turquoise light that shimmered and reflected off of the storm water traveling down the center before pouring into a storm drain.

Mahno and Draeth had frozen with wide eyes, looking at the transformed alleyway. The ground was glowing with amber energy before it began to draw back up, pulling in as if draining back into the stone that it had all ushered forth from. After just another moment, the last energy sunk into the stone and the little carved face seemed to close on itself before the tongue drew across the teeth, savoring the meal. Silence returned and the alley seemed almost as if nothing had happened.

“What… was… that?" Draeth asked. Sagen gave his first smile all day, as restrained as it was.

“I simply knocked on the door…" he commented. Draeth turned to look at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing a figure shrouded in shadow approaching them. It was almost impossible to make them out other than where they blocked the glowing moss. Draeth took a step forward to try and see more clearly, but it was as if the world fell away from beneath him. Draeth suddenly sunk beneath water, bubbles rushing up furiously around him. By instinct alone he had managed to capture a partial breath of air but it was far from enough.

No sunlight penetrated the murky depths, but the bottom of Draeth's boot scraped something down below that felt like rock. With a slight push of his foot and all the strength he had from his arms, Draeth propelled himself upwards. Between the salinity of the water and his natural buoyancy, Draeth emerged from the water like a dolphin. He managed to latch onto the edge of what was apparently an underground aqueduct. The salty water ran down his face, his vest soaked through, but his eyes were wide in wonder.

With no memory of how he had gotten so deep underground, seeing the underside of Breim was more than impressive. It wasn't a sewer, it wasn't cramped and confined. It was glorious. The ceilings were three stories tall, smooth stone in some places and reinforced with perfectly milled and placed stones in others. There were columns carved with ancient runes and adorned with long forgotten mythical heroes that rose up to support the massive weight of the Agrian hillside above. Light came not only from the glowing moss but floating spheres of dull turquoise light while smaller will-o-the-wisps drifted around.

“Wow…" Draeth whispered, in awe of it all, but the awe started to wane as Draeth began to realize just how little he remembered. Everything was fuzzy, in accessible, almost as if his brain was full of sea foam. He turned to look around, nearly jumping with surprise as he saw a long boat resting in the water a few feet away. It was wide and flat with a slight lip around the edges while the bow rose up in a slight curve from the water, presenting a bit of a shelf. The boat was occupied by three individuals and Draeth's mind struggled in an attempt to put the pieces of his mental puzzle back together.

“As much as I find your bardic exploration adorable Draeth, that is why you need to remember to not rock the boat so much." The orange haired individual at the fore of the boat addressed the bard. Black straight horns stood out from the middle of the orange mess of hair that shined dully in the soft luminescent light of the underworld. He offered a hand and a toothy grin to the soaked companion, tusks jutting from his lower jaw framing his soft blue face in a calming light.

“I… I was just outside, and now I'm here. What happened?" Draeth asked, bobbing in the water for a moment before he took the hand offered.

"Oh boy, that's my bard boyfriend, falls into a runoff from the Oberath, and all of a sudden, 'ah, where am I? how did I get here?'" The troll chuckled and without any further ado, reached down and grabbed Draeth by the collar, his fur-covered, whip like tail extending out to help balance himself, and hauled the human out of the water with strength that belied his thinner frame. Both men fell backwards into the boat, eliciting a growl from Mahno and a grunt from Sagen as the boat rocked with the force.

“Capra, please be careful so we don't all forget why we are here…" Sagen murmured.

Draeth landed face first into the soft blue fur covered chest that seemed to stick out the top of the troll's shirt. Draeth looked up into the violet eyes of his apparent boyfriend and laughed nervously. He shifted atop of his awkwardly, but couldn't help but feel Capra's tail had curled up along his thigh, and those eyes had a glint that only complimented the smirk on his unusual, beautiful face. Draeth chuckled a little, pulling back.

“I guess I couldn't help myself, I guess I always want to get to the bottom of things. Just didn't think it was that deep." Draeth said.

“Heh… deep." Capra chuckled with the simple lewd joke, pushed his nose in against Draeth's, eye to eye. “Well, maybe we can find that once you get dry, as long as you don't soak through me first." he said. Draeth stayed there, chest to chest for a moment before his brain seemed to catch up enough to realize he was still dripping wet. Draeth reluctantly pulled back, panting a little. The boat rocked once more. Mahno growled and shifted toward the bow of the boat, not wanting to risk falling in.

Capra got himself up and moved effortlessly towards the leather clad werewolf. “Awww, don't worry Mahno, your boyfriends didn't mean to scare you, we'll just have to make sure the Draeth doesn't rock it much more." He reached out and rubbed the werewolf's back. Draeth sat at the back of the boat, processing everything… Capra and Mahno were his boyfriends, that sounded right… Mahno relaxed his grasp a bit, finding comfort at the touch. Capra leaned in to give Mahno a kiss on the lips, the werewolf feeling a little hesitant for some reason as he felt that tusky kiss.

Draeth sat at the rear of the boat, trying to contemplate what he had been doing before he fell in the water but his worries melted away as he saw Capra and Mahno were okay. He was so lucky to have such handsome boyfriends. His wet pants tightened around his swelling erection just from looking at them. Sagen's brow arched a little at that.

“You three could manage to do it anywhere, couldn't you?" he asked with a smirk. Draeth put on a broad grin.

“As long as no one objected, right Capra?" Draeth asked, spreading his legs to present his rather prodigious bulge to the troll. As impressive as the lump of his cock was, the bulge of his very bloated, very full udder balls was even more extreme.

“Be careful, you might chafe." Sagen said, uttering under his breath before steam began to waft off of Draeth. As the briny water evaporated, Draeth was left moist rather than soaked.

“Not only that," Capra pulled back from Mahno, the werewolf's face and tight pants obvious that he had quite enjoyed the kiss. “but get too wet, and the fetishes I gave each of you won't be able to protect you from the effects of the water and then I won't be able to hold up my end of the deal. You wouldn't want to do that to me would you?" His eyes went wide and pitiable to Draeth. It was a look that would make a puppy jealous, until Capra licked his lips suggestively and the expression seemed much more suggestive. Draeth looked down at his chest, noticing the bronze pendant nestled in his thick and unruly electric blue chest hair. The metal disc was emblazoned with a teardrop shape flanked by what had to be two troll horns. He reached up and rubbed his thumb over it, feeling a sweeping sense of relief filling his mind as everything seemed to click back into place - or at least closer.

“Uh…" Draeth's voice caught in his throat, and the sound of his pants tightening a bit more made evident the water wasn't the only thing affecting his mind. “Yeah.. Wait, deal?" Sagen's weary sigh made Draeth turn as the old satyr felt it was his duty to explain.

“We made a deal with your boyfriend. He offered to help protect us as we claimed the water of Oberath down below." He turned his head to the side slightly, and a similar bronze charm swung from his horn, looking much like the one Draeth wore.

“We have to travel deeper to collect the waters." Mahno said from the front of the boat, his black tail wagging, streaked with a stripe of cherry red in the fur, growing out from the leather strap at the base of his tail stamped with a troll coin as well. Sagen leaned back, running a hand up and down the purple tipped, brown fur on his leg. Draeth smiled warmly to Capra, finding the reminder soothing after the quick dunk into the memory affecting waters and everything was just as it should be, even the bright blue hair on his chest, the curls thicker, spread all the way from armpit to armpit.

“It won't be easy, I think the tide is coming in." Sagen said, his eyes studying the rise of the water level along the edges of the aqueduct, “That's probably why you didn't get more confused. The waters are going to be more dangerous when we head deeper, undiluted by the seawater or the drainage runoff."

“Oh yeah, that's why we've had it so easy going so far." Capra agreed. “It's also why I never wanted to risk bringing either of you down here, as soon as the tide turns, we're going to have to pull off, or else risk the rapids and undercurrents that could pull us all the way to one of the lower levels. Or worse."

Their guide stood up with the practiced ease of being in a boat and pointed towards a split-off pipe that was coming up. He took an opportunity to move next to Draeth, sliding a hand down along the back of his neck, weaving his fingers into his loose blue hair, light pointed nails scratching gently at his skin, even as it graduated from pale to dark blue to only his eyes.

“That's the way, we need to go down there before the tide turns, and we should be able to cut some time off our journey." He grinned and looked between the three others. “We could even get a chance off the boat, get something to eat and relax."

“Good!" Mahno exclaimed from his spot, a little too quickly to hide his uncomfort from being on the boat. “I mean- food sounds good, I don't remember the last time we ate."

“I- wait, when was the last time we ate?" Draeth's eyes popped open, having slid shut at the scritching he had started to receive. Sagen grunted and stated to eye the three others.

“I don't-" the satyr was cut off.

“This is why you guys need to be careful about getting wet with those trinkets." Capra interrupted. His face took on a more serious expression. “You all need to be careful with the waters, the mists from the river may be getting to you. They'll spread more protection if you get more affected, but I promised to get you three back to the surface by sun rise as you were when you entered. A promise like that I can't go back on."

“A promise we intend to help you keep." Sagen agreed. He moved his hand out and the boat began to turn, as if some invisible force was pushing against it. The mage had to be careful with his magic, especially where the water was concerned, but he was careful enough to guide them onto the side path. They passed through several low arches, leaving the wide open expanse behind. The water seemed to get shallower and shallower until the boat lurched a bit as it scraped the bottom. They were heading into a side channel and light spilled out of an antechamber up ahead.

The four men were hungry and somewhat weary from their travels in the underside. Mahno was the first to jump off, relieved to have his feet back on an even keel. He reached up to brush his claws at his sideburns, unaware that their natural rust orange color had shifted to a much richer, much fuller red hue. Draeth stayed planted until the boat came to a complete stop, though Sagen rose to his hooves, stepped out and pulled the rope from the boat to tie it off. Despite not having spent any time in The Underside, he'd been around more than his share of boats.

As the satyr followed the werewolf off to the antechamber, Draeth finally stood, coming up behind Capra. He rested his meaty hand on the small of the troll's back just above where his tail sprouted out, giving him a good scritch of his own.

“I'm glad you let us see this place finally." Draeth whispered. Capra looked at the shifting human with an expression beyond words, almost as if he was trying to see what was beneath the surface.

****

The sound of rushing water and the banging of the boat against its mooring echoed into the platformed area beyond the antechamber. A fire burned, ringed by stones placed by travelers of the Underground from long ago. The immediate area was surrounded by ancient walls, some of which had elements crumbling from the wrath of time. The four had gathered in the safe secluded area, protected from the water and currents of the river that was now rushing with gusto outside. Every so often an eddie would gurgle ominously, splashing the boat and the docks with the amnesia inducing liquid. Draeth let out a belch as he finished his food, patting his rotund stomach with a contented sigh.

“Rations always seem to taste better on an adventure, but I'm not sure what it is." Draeth proclaimed. Capra let out a laugh from Draeth's left, stretching out after his own meal and taking an opportunity to let his hand slide down the near-human's meaty thigh. The troll's other hand slipped to Mahno who was resting on his other side, down the rear of his pants and giving it an appreciative squeeze.

“Interesting observation on your first quest." Sagen observed from his own seat on the opposite side of the fire. Draeth's cheeks flushed blue but he didn't elaborate on the matter. Capra sat up and looked a little wide eyed at his boyfriend.

“Draeth! You didn't tell me you hadn't been on another quest, you talk so much about them! I'm so happy to be more than one first for you then." He grinned and pushed his tusked face in against Draeth's. As their lips found each other and their tongues wrestled with a fiery passion, Draeth's lip seemed a little swollen with irritation. The reason became apparent as Capra coaxed the tiny tips of two new tusks to rise beneath the surface, pushing Draeth's lip forward, allowing them to bump and scrape together in a way that trolls so enjoyed. Draeth shivered at the feeling that translated down his tusks and into his skull. It seemed like he was likely to short circuit. As the friction and heat built between them, Sagen gave a small cough and drew their attention between breaths.

“As much of a crime as it is to interrupt such passions, especially for an old satyr like me, I do have a few questions for your boyfriend. Do you mind if I borrow him for a moment?" Sagen asked, a little heavy on the sarcasm. He reached up and itched at the charm resting on his horns - horns that no longer had the curved complexity he had entered the underworld with but instead seemed far straighter. His purple hair shifted across his shoulders as he used his stick to raise up to his hooves, the firelight shining off of his now ruddy-red skin.

“Of course." Capra said as he extracted himself from Mahno and Draeth, though the other two objected. Draeth's hand gave the troll's ass a departing squeeze, and Mahno had been able to get Capra's tail a teasing bite. They'd each get a teasing glare before Capra walked with Sagen out towards the boat again. With their mutual focus gone, Mahno and Draeth both started to entangle in each other.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" Capra asked the satyr after a few moments. The crackling fire was behind them but the groaning, creaking sounds of their boat lurching against the wicked tide was all the more audible. Capra took a seat on a crumbled wall, using it as a bench. He set his sights on the satyr's charm briefly, before looking back down to Sagen's eyes. Sagen looked at Capra curiously, from his bright hair to his dark skin, from his horns to his tusks, to the patches of fur like hair and the tail tipped by a pom pom. His teeth were sharp, his eyes shrewd, his tastes clearly visceral.

“I did not know what to expect when we came down here." Sagen began, moving to rest against his walking stick almost as if it was some sort of podium and he was getting ready to give a lecture, “What little we knew of the underground came from legends, stories, or Draeth's father's history book. You seem like such a natural guide though. Have you escorted many through these treacherous waters?" he asked.

“No, not escort so much, but I have gotten to know the areas near to the surface pretty well, the surface is nice and all, but too much sun can cause issues with my skin. What's a bored guy to do, especially when I was young, but go places where I wasn't supposed to be?" He offered Sagen a playful grin.

“I remember my own youth. I got into trouble so many times for going where I wasn't supposed to be. That's saying something too, satyrs have a high tolerance for playing around and breaking rules…. But that was many years ago. I've had to learn when to stay on task, to put my nose to the grindstone. I'm worried about your boyfriends, about our friends. Will you be able to live up to what you promised?" Sagen asked softly.

Capra's eyes widened a bit and he leaned forward on his perch towards Sagen. He could just imagine what kind of things he had gotten up to at a younger age, and it would probably still pale in comparison. He shifted in his seat at the thought of the trouble they could have caused if they had known each other earlier in life.

“Of course, we are bound by a geas, my kind are not able to ever break one of those." Rolling up his shirt, he revealed ink marked down into his skin, three symbols, each the same design as each of the trinkets. “As long as we are bound, I must do what I can to follow it to the letter." Sagen looked impressed, fascinated, and yet still concerned.

“Magics like those, of the fae especially, are open to interpretation… One person's idea of safety might not be the same for another. Forgive an old man, it is just that we are very far from home and a… life hangs in the balance." Sagen said, the words shaking something loose in his memory. His now very fine, very straight horns almost seemed to bristle and segment, becoming rougher again as part of his natural state reasserted itself. They had come down to this place for Ori, to save him… His mind rallied against the strange memories asserting themselves, the changes to their perceptions. The marking near Capra's stomach began to sting and then burn as magic fed back through the trinket and the geas.

“Hey, whoa, calm down…" Capra got up and was quickly next to the satyr, a reassuring hand resting on his shoulders. “You're going to break my promise without me, you need to breathe. Listen, we might be too near the mists, but you need to relax. Those are my boyfriends, I would never risk someone like that. How could anyone…" He started to rub along Sagen's back, letting claws hand slowly slide up and down with a light touch. “ You are to all return the same when you reach the sun, just as we all will. If you want, I can show you how you can trust me, if you don't trust this magic between us."

“You have some proof of your good will?" Sagen asked, “I think I'm getting too old. I'm seeing conspiracies everywhere… But if you have anything to put me at ease, it might make the journey easier." Sagen smiled sadly. Capra nodded, his hand resting on Sagen's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. He could feel the muscle underneath strengthening a bit, along with the stinging on his chest going down.

“I can show you the one way I know how as proof." With a quick movement, the troll's hand went from the satyr's shoulder to the back of his neck, and suddenly his mouth was pressed against Sagen's. There was a splash from the river side as a wave broke against the bank, and both of them were covered in mist. With a mental thanks to the river, Capra slid his body in closer and brought his other hand up to slide over Sagen's head, messing through his violet hair and slowly stroking up to the tip of his horn. As he rubbed it, Sagen seemed to melt against the troll. His weariness, his hesitation, his doubt was forgotten. In that moment there was only the kiss, the embrace, the feeling of another man against him.

Sagen's muscles relaxed and Capra was treated to a kiss quite unlike any he'd ever had. The satyr knew things, he had skills. There were pressure points in the troll's mouth and when Sagen found them, a heady buzz of pleasure washed through his mind, nearly making him weak in the knees. Sagen pressed in tighter, groin to groin. The pendant on his horn began to pulse, growing warmer, this time by doing its duty. Sagen's mind began to come back to him, at least in part. Capra knew that he only had a short opportunity to act.

“Come on," Capra spoke breathlessly. “Let's take this back to someplace a little warmer, away from the river and its dangers." He took Sagen's hand, which had slimmed and his nails were sharper. With luck Capra's legs were able to lead them back to the rest area, trying to keep pressed tight against Sagen and his intoxicating touches.

****

The fire had burned down low, allowing the creeping darkness to make its way back into the makeshift campsite. Even with time for their eyes to adjust, the surface dwellers couldn't quite make out the fine details of just what surrounded them - not like Capra could. Everything below ground had been carved out by nature, spirits, and the hands of those that sought what was beneath the surface. They had built lives for themselves just like the elves and dwarves and humans. They had unearthed treasures with their mines and they had built cities amid the columns and canals. The fire was a beacon in a church of sorts. It was not devoted to any specific deity, but instead the general welfare of being seeking refuge.

Capra sat up, unable to sleep, his orange hair the same shade as the dying embers as he used an old metal dowel to stoke the flames and keep them burning. His blue skin contrasted the warm color, looking as cool and cold as the water starting to ebb and recede from the aqueduct outside. The troll looked around at his companions, his wards, at the beings he had taken into his care. Each of them were showing the marks of the troll and Capra could almost feel them each through the tattoos emblazoned on his stomach. It was a strange feeling, complex and conflicted… Despite the dubious nature, though, Capra wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world. They all made such handsome trolls.

Mahno was asleep, curled up against Sagen's hip. The werewolf's leg twitched as if he was running in his sleep - no doubt running to find his elvish mate. His rust colored sideburns had turned fiery red, the black in his hair becoming a deep burgundy-tinged black. The satyr had changed as well, his long hair a rich and flowing purple, taking up more volume than before. His curled, ribbed satyr horns had become very tall, smooth troll ones… But perhaps the most interesting, the most handsome of all, was Draeth.

Capra looked at the former human curled up in rest and repose. Most trolls were slender, spindly things. Draeth represented something most unlike any troll capra had ever met. His skin was a muted sea-foam green while his hair had turned a wild, deep, rich blue… just like Capra's hair. It was almost as if they were connected in more ways than the others. Capra admired the lumps that had grown from Draeth's head, although they seemed to be seated a bit lower and more to the sides than where troll horns usually were. It was yet another way that Draeth was distinct, that he was different, that he was unique. Capra knew he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

The troll shifted over around the fire, getting closer to the large addition to his clan. At first it had seemed only natural. Their deal had been clear, to escort them safely down to the waters of Oberath and then back to the surface again. One of the easiest ways was to ensure that they had the constitution to survive such a dangerous journey. Trolls were one of the few species that could travel to such depths. The charms protected them and gave them what they needed to survive, and when they were back on the surface… Capra didn't even want to think about that. He just wanted to live in the moment.

Draeth was blissfully asleep as Capra crouched down in front of him, his belly rising and falling with the breath of his sleep. Capra licked his sharp teeth as he reached out to unbutton the bard's pants, pulling it apart. He was greeted with a whiff of that masculine aroma, only whetting his appetite further. Capra moved on to the zipper and drew it down, feeling the jagged teeth vibrate and shimmy as they parted. Capra's teeth did the same, his tongue almost lolling out with anticipation.

Clawed fingers slipped out, curling under the waistband. Capra was so careful as he lifted it up, drew it down and revealed his prize. Capra shuddered, beholding Draeth's half-hard cock and over-full balls. He was unlike any surface sweller or troll that Capra had seen. His belly was massive and now covered with a forest of blue fur. The shadow fell across the pale mint green flesh beneath, leading moment up to an ample, fat, full, meaty cock… and his balls now seemed almost brown between the green skin tone and the strain of their toughened flesh. Four teats were dew kissed, full and meaty.

There was a of doubt or hesitation, but Capra couldn't resist his baser urges. He leaned down, his lips parting, his deadly sharp teeth so careful and controlled as he slipped his mouth around Draeth's cock, his head sinking down lower and lower. With a practiced grace, Capra's face nuzzled into Draeth's bush. His nose smelled that manly scent, his chin rubbed the already full udderballs. Capra began to suck and suck and suck, bobbing his head up and down, increasing the power of his suction and his eagerness.

A dazed, drunken grin crossed Draeth's face. At first it was because he thought he was having a very good dream, but as his cock got harder and fuller, he swam towards consciousness. Capra leaned in harder, his lithe skinny body pressing against Draeth's thick, powerful tree trunk of a leg. The friction made the troll's shirt ride up, his marked stomach pressing against Draeth's leg. The symbols began to glow on his stomach even as the charms grew warm on their owners.

What had been a slow, steady corruption had intensified in moments. The gradual shift of hues reached an early zenith as the last of Draeth's hair and fur turned bright blue, his skin a melange of light green. His nails darkened and grew out, thickening just a little as the tips pushed out into points. His spiked boots had just enough room for his toes to develop claws of their own, though the leather did not seem safe as they wriggled and shifted. Draeth murmured, a mixture of pleasure and pain filling his sleep addled mind.

Draeth shifted and stirred, finding it harder and harder to cling on to that comfortable blanket of sleep. The gurgling of the aqueduct snuck into his mind, along with the cool, damp pressure of the stone against his shoulders and his ass - an ass that was being pried apart by a shifting in anatomy. The massive meaty globes went their separate ways, adjusting to the growing presence of a lattice of muscles, ligaments, tendons and flesh forming into the rope like tail extending out from the top of his pants. The pale green flesh wriggled outward, stretching inch by inch, feeling stronger and more robust with every bit that it grew. It was even tipped by a growing pompom of blue hair.

Wet, lewd, ungainly sounds came from the hungry slurping on Draeth's cock as it grew longer and fatter, prying Capra's mouth wide as he plunged even deeper, taking it into his throat. He went up and down, faster and harder, his clawed hands reaching out to start kneading and groping and massaging the plump, milk filled udder balls in front of him. Draeth growled, a huge hand coming to the back of Capra's head, holding him on his cock as the blood of the trolls raced through his veins.

Draeth's face tightened in sexual pleasure and displaced pain. The lumps that had been swelling on his temples finally burst as tiny black nubs pushed out before curving upward. Capra could barely see them from his vantage point, but they were so different and so special that he was honored to have awoken them in Draeth. As a few drops of blood trickled down the sides of his face, Draeth's eyes snapped open. His irises had shifted to a brilliant purple color, bridging the gap between his green skin and blue hair. He looked down a Capra, seeing how hungry he was. He only growled in pleasure, his thick fingers sinking into the troll's orange hair.

Capra grunted with pleasure as Draeth used him, pulling his head up before slamming it down. His throat was a sleeve for the troll's wildest desires. Draeth deepthroated Capra with abandon, sweating hard as his aroma saturated his pit fur. He shuddered and panted hard, especially as Capra started to get milk to squirt from the bard's udder balls. The clawed, calloused fingers began to tug and tease the teats, working them harder and faster. Draeth growled and moaned even as his horns filled out, seeming far more like those of a bull or minotaur than the horns of a troll.

Draeth panted and hissed through his teeth, bucking his hips, his tail swishing behind him. Capra knew he could have been the king of the trolls if he wanted to, claiming a harem of sluts and slaves, but Draeth wasn't like that. He was kind, special, attentive, and for the moment Capra had him all to himself. Capra kept one hand on Draeths udder balls before reaching around with the other, finding the one spot Draeth had never had stimulated before. A clawed finger found its way down past the tail to the sensitive flesh beneath before he began to press against it, teasing the troll's tail taint.

“Fuck!" Draeth whispered as his back arched and he came, rewarding Capra with gulp after gulp of thick semen. The troll greedily drank it down, holding on with everything he had. Draeth's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he came so hard and so fast. Capra was a little surprised he was able to swallow that much, though he had started to have concerns before he felt the thick slab of meat in his throat eventually stop pulsing. Draeth let out one last moan before he collapsed back, passing out once more.

Capra slowly raised himself up off of Draeth's cock, licking his lips with a wicked tongue. He lowered his hand down and massaged his swollen belly. It wouldn't take him long to digest it, trolls had very flexible metabolisms, but he would enjoy it while he could. He admired his handiwork, looking at the handsome troll Draeth had become before he slipped back over to the others. It had been a miracle that Mahno hadn't woken up.

Capra slowly inched his way down, sliding over to Sagen's side. All of Capra's new boyfriends had remarkable attributes and he treasured them each. It took a true moment of will power for the troll to push the inevitable out of his mind, to live in the moment once again, and to rest his head on the satyr's shoulder. A soft murmur escaped Sagen's lips as he dreamed of something long ago, long forgotten. His hand wrapped around Capra's shoulder, holding the troll to him, content and warm and comfortable despite being so deep underground, nestled in the ruins of a crumbled church.

****

The tide was inherent to any that lived near the Valean coast, but to see its effect underground was mesmerizing. The retreating tide had shifted the water table entirely, transforming what had seemed level and flat at first into a complex maze of ramps and locks. The travelers had descended down level after level, passing ever more ancient signs of Zagan history. At one point Mahno had claimed to smell the bones of his ancestors, only to find it had been the petrified bones of a dragon.

At the lowest levels there were no artificial columns or walls, no ruins of lost miners. The boat traveled along a natural waterway… or at least what some might have considered water. The faint glow of the moss was white, as was the light from Sagen's staff. The boat seemed to be traveling across something that seemed far more like mist than water. It was translucent, ethereal, ghostly. It was nearly invisible if not for the currents and eddies that made it look like swirling fog.

“The waters we need cannot be diluted or corrupted." Sagen explained, “What we've faced so far is nothing. The sea water acts as a filter, watering it down. By the time it makes it to sea, it's completely safe. Where we're going it will be at its strongest. This is the stuff of legends, waters that forged and forgot the first memories of all life… at least according to legend."

“Capra, didn't you say that it comes out of a waterfall? Won't that be dangerous? Waterfalls are usually pretty wild with the mists and the splashing." Mahno said.

The troll nodded to his wolf-ish boyfriend, and offered him a sympathetic smile. “It's also the source, you won't find a stronger potency, and the best place to collect what you need. But don't worry, no one on this boat will let anything happen." He looked back to Sagen, giving him a playful wink. The troll-satyr smiled back, seeming calmer and more at ease than he had been in years. He licked his lips a bit, looking at Capra.

“The plan is to use a protection spell almost like an umbrella. The waters will come down around the sides of the boat and we just have to extend this up through the barrier." Sagen said, producing what appeared to be a leather covered water skein.

“With two magic users like you, I know we'll be able to pull this off." Draeth said triumphantly.

“A bard's word on a tale is as good as truth." Capra laughed and came up behind Draeth careful of the boat, sliding his hands around his front and up under his shirt. He kissed the other troll's neck, letting his tusks drag gently across the next for some extra excitement. Draeth let out a languid moan, surprising the troll with one of the firmest, most intimate gropes of his entire life.

“Sounds like I got the bard right in tune then." He whispered to Draeth and slid back away, moving back next to Sagen.

“Will you be ready with that spell, love, for us both to cast? We should almost be there."

“I'm ready. I feel more rested than I have in years. I think you're rubbing off on me." Sagen grinned, “Have you ever cast a duology before?"

“Hehehe, I hope to rub a bit more before long." The guide teased back. “Perhaps you can rub some off on me, I can't say I have cast like that before. Do you think we will have an issue?"

“The most important things are connection and trust. I believe we have that in spades." Sagen whispered, leaning in to kiss the troll, their tongues dancing the most intimate dance - perhaps for a few moments too long as they heard a distant thundering roar growing louder. Sagen reluctantly broke the kiss and held out his staff, uttering a few words. A sphere of light shot up, striking the tunnel ceiling before it crackled and spread outward. The web of light illuminated a torrential waterfall coming through a hole in the ceiling, falling from an impossibly great height. It had cut through level after level of the underworld before falling here into a kaleidoscopic chaos of mist, light, water and vapor.

“I've never seen anything like it…" Draeth whispered.

“That's the third time you've said that." Mahno growled. Draeth blushed bright blue.

“It's not your fault, we're getting close." Sagen said, using Capra to help maneuver himself to face the front of the boat. He knelt down, wincing a bit, “Mahno, will you collect the waters?" he asked. Mahno nodded, taking the leather skein.

“There's no chance I'll puncture the shield, is there?" he asked.

“There are no guarantees in life, but I don't believe there's anything you could do to affect the spell." Sagen said, “Ulreh, kayahn udo tigrah naness!" he shouted before a purple bubble began to spread from his staff, curving downward over the edges of the boat, tracing the surface of the strange water they floated in.

“We got you puppy, don't worry." Capra's tail tip whipped the rear of the wolf-troll teasingly. The troll navigated around the satyr, crouching down on the front of the boat on the flat part that resembled a shelf, facing back toward the others. He raised his own hand out towards the staff head. “Øvredal, Tosterud, Mørck, Larsen!" Under his thin shirt, Capra's tattoos lit up, and all three charms on each of the other trolls grew warm. They faintly trickled light, crawling around like sentient webs until they coelesed around the head of Sagen's staff. Suddenly, the purple bubble shimmered and grew rough. No longer a simple dome, it grew hard and craggy, as if carved from the earth itself. Capra's violet eyes flashed red as he channeled his power into the spell, weaving them together.

The two magics worked in tandem, from the forests and the depths of the Earth, bringing twice the protection. Draeth stayed close, hearing the roar of the waterfall grow more and more intense until it was almost deafening. The water all around their dome seemed to rumble and churn, kicked around by the impact of water from such a great height. Mahno took a slow breath and slowly lifted the skein. The hard dome shimmered, shifting back and forth between rock and light for a few moments. Mahno began to feel the weight of the skein increasing as he collected some of the mist but it was taking longer than he expected. It was almost as if the waters forgot how to be water, flitting about in an ephemeral dance.

At first the werewolf thought he felt a bit of muscle strain, but it turned out to be a rivulet of water spiraling down his arm. His eye widened in terror at that as it began to run down his armpit and down the side of his shirt before dripping to the bottom of the boat. Draeth had been watching the effort with a keen eye, though he had to blink a bit as a spritz of water hit his face.

“It's getting through!" Draeth said.

“The water may be getting through, but not the magic…"

“We are still safe." Sagen and Capra said before returning to their words. What had been a light spritz became a thicker spray, the temperature of the mist dropping quickly. It soaked into their brightly colored hair, coming down in thicker and thicker quantities. Mahno began to shiver, the water matting his fur and his hair, his tusks chattering. It was like being drenched by an ice bath. Even the boat wasn't immune as it was soaked, the temperature lowering to the point where it started to freeze to the wood, almost like it didn't want to return to the river after being cleansed.

“We should be quick, or else risk freezing in memory." Capra called out, still holding the spell. “Draeth-"

“-take the rudder and steer us out." Sagen finished. They both could feel the strength of the primal source soaking down on them, feeling an obstruction to its natural path. Capra's and Sagen's eyes met at the same time, of the same thought as blessed by the combined spell. Without any other notice, they embraced one another with their free hand. Unlike before though, their kiss was one of care as well as lust. The light from Sagen's spell shone brighter, and the mist seemed to heat up ever so slightly.

Draeth turned over and reached out, grabbing the rudder. He turned it and locked it in place, coaxing the boat to start to lazily turn. When that wasn't enough, he tried to grab one of the long poles from its groove on the size of the boat. The one problem was that the frost had literally frozen it in place. Draeth growled and grunted, using his claws to cut along the seam, trying to fracture the ice. His troll tail whipped around behind him, his shifted feet bracing against the boat. His horns rose high, his muscled, fat arms straining, he grunted and pulled. The pole popped loose and Draeth stumbled back, only to be caught by Mahno's hand.

A hiss of pain escaped Draeth's arm as he felt the claws dig into the flesh, but it had been enough to keep him from falling overboard, or worse, capsizing the boat. Draeth caught his balance and knelt down, using the long pole. He slipped it out under the rim of the shield, catching the rocky edge of the river. He pushed off from it at a steep angle, trying to propel them back the way they had come. With the rudder in place, the boat began to curve and turn. The dome shimmered as the assault from the waterfall began to slip from the center to the side before falling off entirely.

The boat lurched a little as the bow hit the side, but Draeth moved, using the poll to push again from another angle, completing the one eighty spin. He set the pole back in the boat, unlocked the rudder and set it to center. The boat began drifting back the way it had come, this time using the river's natural current. As the sound of the waterfall faded behind them, Sagen eventually broke the spell. The dome faded away into shadow. Sagen pulled Capra towards him and away from the edge of the boat, hugging him and clinging on. Capra on the other hand cheered as he felt the spell let go, and returned the embrace.

“That was amazing! I have never felt anything like that before!" He vibrated in the older satyr's arms and moved in to kiss him again, unaware of even being close to the edge of the boat. His nerves were all a light with the experience. It wasn't until he felt the difference in the embrace that he stopped and looked into the satyr-troll's eyes. “Hey, what's wrong? We did it, we succeeded."

“We did… We completed our journey." Sagen said softly, looking at Capras with a mild, quiet sense of pain.

Capra's smile waned a little bit, but he continued to put up a good front. He was going to lose these three soon, and as much as that hurt… He had a promise to keep.

“I know," He commented in a voice that was soft, but loud enough for the rest of the boat to hear. “Soon we will have to put up with Draeth go on and on about finishing an actual quest. Let's not tell him until next week, shall we?" Draeth rolled his eyes, Mahno chuckled, but Sagen merely pulled the troll close, rubbing his back, letting the young man rest his head against the satyr's chest.

****

The journey back to the surface felt as though it had taken days, but much of that came from how slow the journey was by boat. The four had used the locks to climb level by level, then drifted down the aqueducts. Even without direct sunlight, it seemed that there were more and more sources for illumination as they approached the surface. The four had been very quiet as they left the boat behind and walked back toward the entrance to the tunnels. For Sagen, it was almost as if he knew the truth. For the others it might have been the fact that they had been frozen to the bone by the mists of the waterfall.

Draeth had to blink as they neared the tunnel. His eyes weren't used to sunlight, not as a troll, not after being underground for so long. It was almost enough to make him turn back, to pull away, but a warm, welcoming ocean breeze blew into the tunnel. It ruffled through his hair, it filled his lungs. Draeth inhaled deeply and kept walking. He led the group, stepping out of the tunnel and into the light even as Capra fell behind.

As the sunlight washed over Draeth, it seemed to wipe away the changes that the troll had introduced to the bard. The blue washed out of his hair, leaving it a brownish black. His skin blanched, returning to a human hue. His claws seemed to dissolve into dust and left only fingernails behind. All of the changes disappeared just as Capra had expected, save for his horns. The thick horns atop his head stayed far longer than the magic should have, staying for several beats of Draeth's heart before ultimately, and perhaps tragically, they faded away into shadow and memory. Draeth stood there in the light, his brow furrowing. He turned around with confusion.

“Guys, are we going to stay around out here all day or are we going to save Ori?" Draeth asked before his jaw dropped a little. He looked down at the pendant on his chest, then to Sagen and Mahno as they left the tunnel, then to Capra. He blinked in shock as the memories came crashing together.

Capra walked up as far as he could before stepping into the sunlight directly. He leaned against the tunnel wall with his arms crossed, “Well, looks like the bard's got some catching up to do." He chuckled softly, and continued on a lower tone “But our pact is complete, you have been returned with the sun, as you arrived." Mahno didn't immediately understand Capra's words as continued walking under the sun. As the red faded from his hair and his body contorted and twisted, his lycanthropy reassuring itself over the troll traits, it began to become clearer to him. Mahno's teeth clenched, his brow furrowing as he realized what he had done, feeling conflicted about Ori and the state he was in.

“Tch, damn. I hoped that red would had stayed a bit at least." Capra's eyes watched the wolf return to his natural state. “You looked so good with a streak in you." Mahno blushed furiously in the realization of what he had done and turned to start walking back toward the shop.

Sagen had stopped before the others, staying partly in the shadow of the hillside. He reached up and took the charm from his horn, pulling it off to examine it. He ran his finger back and forth over the engravings even as his claws disappeared, his hand returning to normal. The satyr lifted his head and looked back at Capra curiously.

“Is this to remember you by?" Sagen asked, “And because few species could survive at those depths other than trolls?" he questioned. Capra stood there for a moment, looking at the little charm in the satyr's hand.

“It can be for a few different things. Some memories always fade, but maybe with that, you'll actually get to remember me."

“I don't think we could forget you." Sagen said, reaching up to caress Capra's cheek. Capra embraced it with one of his own, savouring the feeling “You reminded me of some things I considered long forgotten." the satyr said, “But for now… we need to save one of our own. Thank you for making it possible." Sagen said.

“There's a reason there's very little information on the Underground. It's part of its nature. But go, you came here for a reason, and I shouldn't stop you. I won't forget our adventure last night either. I wish you all a safe trip home." Capra turned slowly to walk deeper back the way he had come, not wanting to look back and be tempted by the life he might have had in the sun.

****

Steam slowly lifted off of the cups of tea and coffee that had been prepared. A heavy weight hung on the shoulders of the adventurers. Their bodies still felt the icy cold deep in their bones. The waters had cut deep, almost to their very souls. It had only felt worse as the last traces of their troll selves had faded away. It had taken almost an hour for the frost to melt from the tips of Mahno's sideburns and Draeth's was shivering so much that his whole body seemed to jiggle. Sagen gestured for them both to drink up, lifting his own cup to his lips. While he had proffered ceramic mugs for his guests, the satyr drank from an old terracotta cup. The material was rough and coarse against his lips and yet it seemed to bring back some of his vitality.

Mahno lapped at his coffee, his eyes closed, exhaling a bit. His tail had been loosed from his pants and hung behind him, feeling the heat and life returning to his body. Draeth tried to drink but it was hard to keep his hands steady. It felt as if they had all been awake for an eternity, but it had been a day… One day since Draeth had found Ori, one day since they had set out to the forgotten underworld. One day of living as trolls in the underworld. One day, and now they were back. As much as any of them wanted to find comfort and solace, Ori stood there, still frozen in stone, petrified. His face had not changed, his fate had not changed. Sagen took one last swig before putting his cup down.

“This next part is very dangerous. I can't… ask any of you to stay. I know you care for Ori, but there is too much to risk. We're dealing with temperamental magics. You know how close we came with the waters, now I am going to be tempering them with something far more dangerous." Sagen said softly.

“You can't ask us to leave, not after everything… Ori's family. We risked our lives for him. We have to see this through." Draeth said, standing up, the heat of his adrenaline returning some of his strength to him.

“If this goes wrong, you may forget your own lives, you may become empty husks… or even stranger things may happen." Sagen warned.

“Life without Ori is not an option… Is there a chance that we would forget who we are, but he would be restored? Or is it an all or nothing situation?" Mahno asked. Sagen gritted his teeth.

“If the magic works to save Ori, then there would be no harm for the rest of us… most likely. I cannot guarantee anything." Sagen said.

“Werewolves don't believe in guarantees anyway." Mahno said, his ears twitching. Sagen looked at one and then the other before nodding.

“Then the decision is made." he said softly. Sagen moved across the room, leaving the two young men and Ori's statue behind. He moved up the stairs, step by step. Draeth hesitated, listening carefully as he heard his employer trudging around upstairs. There were murmurings of spells, the groan of furniture grinding across the floor before finally they heard the hooves coming back down the stairs.

As Sagen returned, it was clear he was holding something. It was an artifact, an antique, a curio like almost anything else in the shop… but like many of the unique things that were sold in Terramagica, it also seemed to be one of a kind. The outer edge seemed to be three thick rings of metal; copper, silver and bronze. The center of the rings held a flattened disc of stone. It was cracked and fragmented and yet filled the circle completely. It looked like a translucent piece of obsidian, almost mirrored but see through at the same time. The veins where it had been cracked throbbed with a faint hot light like magma peeking through the planet's crust.

“What is that?" Mahno asked. The words seemed to travel sluggishly, at least for Draeth. As he stared at the object, he became more and more aware of his heartbeat, of the blood pumping through his veins. He could feel time slowing down as something stirred deep inside the darkest, forgotten corners of his mind. He felt sweat beading up on his brow, his chest, his pits and his balls… his udder balls… The tattoo of his favorite dwarvish band began to sting and burn as the ink embedded in his flesh changed and shifted, twisting into a sigil far more ancient. The fuzz on Draeth's double chin darkened and bumps began swelling on his forehead as he felt the taint his new, alternate father had given him. His nails began to darken, his breathing grew heavy. He knew the answer to the question, he knew the object. It was what he had been quested to retrieve. It was his destiny, his purpose, and it was right there in front of him.

“This is a touchstone…" Sagen explained, though he seemed almost reluctant to utter the words, “It's a very rare item. It is an anchor, a physical manifestation of one's soul and identity. It can reflect back the truth, it can guide someone back to their truest self. Between the Oblidadian waters and this touchstone, I believe we can restore Ori. Sagen said. Given their friend's unusual position, the satyr elected to perch the touchstone in Ori's stone hands.

“The water." Sagen requested. Mahno grabbed the pouch and handed it to the satyr. Sagen removed the cork and focused himself. His lips began to move as words ushered fourth, pouring far more easily than the water had. As he spoke, he began to pour the liquid. Before the first drops of translucent, almost ethereal water hit the surface of the touchstone, some of it began to boil and turn to vapor. Despite the heat, Sagen kept pouring until a sheen of water slicked the surface of the stone. It spilled outward to the edges but stopped at the rings, building in place as the steam wrapped and coiled around Oriron.

“Alblath teroch yesteah ulee corath deno!" Sagen's words seemed to echo and thunder across the store. The water grew still and Ori's face reflected in it, but it wasn't a reflection of his petrified face. His elvish face was there in the water and the obsidian stone. The steam continued to wrap and coil around the elf, softening the stone, leeching away the stark marble colors. Ribbons and bands of lighter, fairer flesh began to appear. The stone retreated like eroding glaciers. A finger twitched, a shoulder strained to move.

“Ori, please, stay still until the process is complete…" Sagen pleaded. The reflection in the water winced and cringed. There was a moment of suffocation before his lungs were restored, then his chest. His clothing hung like weighted stones until they were restored as well. The steam climbed up along Ori's throat, his cheeks, his pointed ears and hair. It was like watching the winter thaw revealing a brilliant spring day. Mahno's tail wagged eagerly as the werewolf started to smell his lover again. It took every ounce of strength to keep himself from springing forward.

With Sagen and Mahno so focused on Ori's recovery, neither had watched as Draeth's skull burst forth with bull horns, nor the inky blackness spreading across his eyes. His pants bulged with the swelling ample gift of his father's manhood. Draeth's back popped, his muscles strained, his belly swelled larger and his beard thickened. He was no longer the eager, optimistic bard. He was an agent of the demon Iago, and his purpose was right before his eyes. The satyr was so blind, arrogant and unaware of the crimes he committed. Draeth licked his lips as his horns continued pushing out of his skull, inch after inch, filling out.

Ori's lips slowly moved for the first time in a day, his tongue darting out to wet them, trying to heal the parched skin. His cheeks wriggled and his jaw unclenched. His nostrils flared. The weight felt as if it was lifted from his eyes. He blinked several times as his sight began to return to him. It was blurry at first, almost painful, but it slowly began to clear. He wobbled a little as the stone retreated from his knees, his ankles, his feet. The steam moved faster now, rippling across his body. The water was boiling away, less and less of it remaining on the touchstone's surface. The spell was nearly complete, and Draeth's opportunity was fleeting.

There was a tug of war inside the bard as he fought his two selves, but the more Ori was restored, the weaker Draeth was. He had to fulfil his purpose. He had to return the touchstone to his father. Draeth surged forward, crabbing the outer ring of the touchstone. He pulled it from Ori's hands, flinging the last of the water beaded on its surface across Sagen. The satyr stumbled backwards, grunting out as the steam began to wrap and coil around him. Mahno snarled and lunged, slashing at Draeth. Blood spattered across the floor as claws cut into flesh, but the pain didn't register for Draeth. He brought his huge foot up and connected it with Mahno's chest, knocking him into one of the displays. Glass shattered around him, raining down like dangerous snowflakes.

Draeth took three great strides to cross the store, flung the front door open and stepped across the threshold. As he left Terramagica's protective grasp, his entire body disappeared. It was as if stepping through the doorway was stepping through a portal. With a slight pop of black smoke, Draeth - and the touchstone - were gone. Mahno pushed himself up off the counter, huffing and puffing with breath, his eyes gleaming brightly, his fangs exposed as he snarled. The rage and wrath filled his heart, but it began to temper as he heard the last crinkling, crackling sounds. The werewolf turned, looking at Ori standing in the middle of the shop, looking at his hands and slowly moving his arms.

“Ori…" Mahno whispered. Ori smiled faintly, looking at Mahno with love and relief before his face turned into shock.

“Mister Teklic!" Ori said, moving over to crouch down, reaching for his employer before pausing, his hand stopping just short of touching the vapor that worked its way across the satyr's body. Wherever the steam touched, it seemed to be erasing the rigors of time. Wrinkles were replaced with soft, young flesh. The grey and white in the satyr's fur were expunged from each strand. His chipped, scratched hooves seemed soft and polished. His coarse, rough, uneven beard disappeared in places, replaced with a very long single tuft hanging down from his chin. Even his horns were reduced, receding backwards until they were only three inches tall from his forehead. Mahno rested his hand on Ori's shoulder, not sure what to say or do.

“O… Orion?" Sagen asked, although his voice was young, as smooth as velvet. He lifted his head, a longer mane of hair pouring across one shoulder. He blinked a little before he waved his hand. A small mirror formed out of water vapor in the air. Sagen's jaw dropped a little as he looked at himself, at a face he had not seen in so many years. He reached up to touch it, to confirm that it was real. His cheek was smooth, his ears unblemished. He looked down and lifted his shirt, seeing a smooth, fit, stomach with just a hint of a treasure trail.

“Mister Teklic, are… are you okay?" Ori asked with uncertainty. The satur looked up at the restored elf, a slight quirk crossing his youthful lips.

“Am I okay? I'm… young again… I haven't looked like this since I was eighteen." Sagen whispered before he grabbed onto the counter and pulled himself up to his feet. It was remarkably easy to find his balance. He took a step, then another, his smile turning into an irrepressible grin. His limp was gone, his stride restored. There was no pain, no discomfort. He began to stride and jog around the sales floor, making several back and forth passes before he slowed to a stop. The smile faded from his lips as he looked at the front door, the front door that Draeth had fled out of. The relief and mirth were replaced with dread.

“Draeth… What has he done to you?" Sagen whispered softly. Ori and Mahno came up behind the satyr. Ori rested his head against Sagen's shoulder, not fully certain what had happened but recognizing that it had taken a toll. He had been restored, but at what cost to their dear friend?