Bewitching Monsters

Moth

Note: this arc was typed up on my phone. I wasn't able to edit it with my usual methods, so there might be more typos and such than usual in my writings. Also, I don't have access to my usual methods of making banners—I will add one whenever I get my computer situation sorted.

Contains: swearing, minor suggestive themes

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It wasn't often that I received personal letters. My mail was usually just things I ordered or work related—even legal items were more common. Seeing the two letters made me a bit bubbly inside. Work could wait today. I took the letters outside and found a comfy spot to sit by the treeline.

The first letter was from Aleril. Apparently, he's been working on reforming things around Castelul Corvinilor ever since Lord Corvin stepped down from his hierarchy. Half of the stuff he explained went over my head. At least things were doing better? Pretty sure it all meant things were better. Still, I was not keen on accepting the open invitation he offered—the sex wasn't that good.

"It's surprising to see them changing."

I jumped and whipped around to glare at Vérus. "It's rude to read other people's letters. And you should really work on your racism."

He cocked his head. "You defend your almost-murders?"

I folded my letter, setting it aside, and stood to better glare judgementally at him. "Not all of them tried to kill me. Only the old, stubborn racists whoms egos were easily bruised by the smallest of opposition from me."

Vérus was unnervingly still. The forest grew taller and darker around us. Fog gathered at our feet. Did my double entendre piss him off that much? Or did I trigger something else?

"Vérus?" I called to him softly.

No change. There was no life in his eyes. The fog gathered thicker. Branches of burrs jabbed up my legs. He had never gone this far before. There was something more, something serious to this that I shouldn't carelessly challenge.

I whispered his true name so quietly the air had to strain to hear it. There was no command behind it. Just a simple acknowledgment.

He blinked. A beat passed before everything started to revert to normal. He turned away from me. From the corner of my eye I noticed the blur between the demi-planes separating my house from his tree. In an old fae tongue he said something about shaping saplings. Then he vanished.

Fucking hells—what was that?! Well now nature wasn't relaxing to be in. I picked up my letters and went back inside.

"Everything alright?" Caera asked when I brisked in.

I waved a dismissive hand. "Just fae bullshit." I faceplanted into the pile of floorpillows. I growled all my frustration and uneasy energy into them. I flipped over. "Aleril sent me a letter and the hamadryad has a thorny stick up his ass."

She snickered. "He's one big, entire, thorny stick, if you ask me."

I smiled despite myself. "Don't let him hear you say that."

"Why? What can he do to me? I'm a ghost; I'll just haunt his tree-ass until it bores me," she sassed. I couldn't quite tell if she was being serious, or if she was just trying to perk me up. Regardless, it eased some tension.

I opened my other letter. It had no return address, but three words in I knew who it was from: Theophania. Well, Theo on behalf of the leshen. Their forest was starting to recover, but they wanted me to perform another Grand Rite. Thankfully not on Aestivalis. I had to attend the royal feis the day of. Hopefully the two days after the feis would be enough to recover to perform the Rite comfortably.