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Chapter 9 of Tales of Woe

Ted Valentine, September 28th, 2:24pm

I shifted my feet to position myself better. Fifty feet away from me, a half-empty sprite can, and all I saw was a little, shiny glint in the sunlight. I had glasses, but I never wore them, not because I thought they were nerdy- which, with the glasses my parents got me, they were- but also because I just didn't were stuff on my head. No hats, beanies, glasses, sunglasses, nothing like that at all. I'd take it off, forget I had it, and it'd never be seen again.

Needless to say, I didn't exactly have twenty-twenty vision. It was more like twenty-ten vision, in that what I saw at twenty feet, I saw at ten feet. My doctors always wanted me to have glasses, my parents always wanted me to have glasses, I always wanted to have good vision, but... like I said, I just didn't wear anything on my head. On rare- incredibly rare- occasion, I might wear sunglasses, if it's blindingly bright. And it's usually sunny here during the summers, so I'm used to brightness, thus sunglasses are rarely worn.

Now, while being half blind certainly challenges my ability to hit the can with a ball of fire, it doesn't help that Kyle's standing to my left telling me to calm down and focus while Ciph's to my right, half yelling at us that we won't be able to focus in two days, and while neither is helping individually, they make it impossible with their argument, and it's slowly adding to the stress that I haven't even managed to create fire yet. Apparently, it's easier than ice, despite my inadvertently freezing my sprite can before it was finished.

So Ciph was getting on my nerves because he was complaining about my inability to make fire, and Kyle was being very encouraging about my inability to make fire, and occasionally Alex would say some random explanation he'd pull out of that god damned book Ciph gave him, and every time he did, Seth agreed, saying it made perfect sense, and Jeran was freaking out because he was apparently going to die, and X was purposefully left out of that secret, and Daniel was sooo good with fire, and he was knocking down cans left and right, and he was making me feel like shit and-

I was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled away from where I was standing, and in front of me I saw the grass freeze as ice crystals grew from the ground. "Holy shit..."

Ciph scratched the back of his head, "Oh. Well, you were right, Alex. He is a cryomancer. Dammit. Oh well." He walked off, no amount of support or consultation for what the hell that even meant. Fucking ass hole...

"Well what the hell does that mean?!"

Alex sat down on the grass in front of me, and gestured for me to do the same, "You've played enough games to know what necromancy is, right?"

"Yeah. That's not-"

"It applies. Sort of... So, pyromancy, is the control of fire. Cryo, means ice. You're a cryomancer. Which, sadly, means you can only work with ice. However, that means you find ice stuff- not only easier than it is for any of us, but it means you don't need to waste time learning about spells and such, ice just succumbs to your will."

"... So I'm fucking Elsa. Great." He tipped his head to the side in confusion, and I just waved my hand as I got up, "Whatever, you wouldn't get it."

"But- w-wait! You still need training-" the second he said that word, he regretted it, I knew this by the look on his face when I spun around on my heel.

"You aren't training anyone, you're just as new to all this as we are. Shut up, and if you want to train any of us, than you need to train yourself, first." I turned back around and continued off towards Daniel, who was in such good control of his fire that he could shoot a point of light in one direction, and it'd turn around and hit the can while weaving around the obstacles set up for him.

"Hey."

When he heard my voice, he turned around and his whole face lit up, which calmed me down a good bit, "Hey. Guess who can't make fire."

"Ooh, that sucks."

"Yeah, apparently I'm a cyromancer or some shit."

"You mean cryo."

I glared at him, "Really?"

"Cryo means ice. As in, cryogenics?"

"Oh, right. ... Wait a minute, how do I know that you're not a pyromancer?!"

"Like, fire and ice? Kinda ironic, don't you think?"

"Maybe it's not out of irony. Apparently if there's a way to know whether or not someone's going to die soon, then that's probably a thing called destiny."

"No, that's cruelty, especially if they know about it. And anyways, I come from a family of science, there's no such thing as destiny."

"Bet you would've said the same thing about magic."

"... Fair point, but... that's different. That can be explained, and probably with theorium-"

"Oh, here we go again, enough with the theorium. It's a rare metal that allows us to do cool things, who cares?!"

"... You'll probably care in forty years when it destroys the world."

"Huh?"

"Nothing- so, I wouldn't be surprised if I was a pyromancer, and quite frankly it sounds kinda cool. And romantic."

"Oh shut up and kiss me." I stood up on my tip toes only to be grabbed, lifted, and held against his strong chest, with my head planted firmly into his, and him letting his kiss get ever more sexual. He paused for a second- his tongue still halfway to my uvula- to wrap one arm under my tail and pull my hard bulge against his stomach. I was drowning in his scent of sweat and ash, and his hard abs were like carved wood on my bulge that occasionally clenched up and squeezed me down there- just enough to leave me begging for more.

I was fed up with it and decided we need to act. I spent a minute and a half just trying to muster up the sheer will to make myself move, but once I did, his muscular arms were no match for my body, and he put me down and followed me to an upstairs bedroom, where we began to strip, and the air felt nice, drifting freely through the still half open hole he'd left in me from the night before, and let my inner instincts pleasure him and myself...