Emily, Naked in Thessolan

[Talfulano]

I don't usually like fiction nudity stories, but this story is exciting and was the most complete one I've ever read. I can't wait for the sequel

[FinchAgent]

Emily and the Reflection

The next few days passed in a mix of merry-making and magical training. Aria was delighted to see the statues of Castle Elid again, her companions for so many centuries, and spent many hours in joyful conversation with them. She told the statues of her adventures with Emily, and they told her of all that had happened since the two had departed the castle—the rescue of their drowned brethren, and the long trek to Paja Abbey.

For their part, the monks were welcoming, and incredibly curious. Living statues, as Emily had come to appreciate, were not much more common in Thessolan than back on Earth. And each one was different from the next—marble, granite, sandstone, bronze, all materials were represented. Many, like Jivaro, possessed exaggerated features and proportions seldom seen in flesh-and-blood humans—this had been a side-effect of petrification.

"Did you look much different as a human?" Talyndra asked Aria.

Aria put a thoughtful hand to her chin. "I think I was slightly taller."

Emily's eyes widened at this—she had known few woman as tall as Aria even in her statue form.

"You will soon be able to verify this claim, Emily," Aria said gently, noticing Emily's expression.

That just made Emily feel worse, but she smiled bravely. The way Aria could speak with such complete trust and confidence in her made her wonder what she had done to deserve it. Moreover, it made her think of how she might unwittingly betray that trust and confidence. Could she really restore all of these statues to human form?

The day soon came for Emily and Talyndra to leave for Gla Abbey. Emily had quickly mastered teleportation, but had proven quite unable to manifest clothing again, the way she'd inadvertently done in front of the monks, after her first teleportation. About the best she'd managed to do in that regard was get good at very quickly teleporting behind cover.

She'd asked the monks if there was an fabric which might resist the Stoneshell's flame, and they'd suggested some possibilities, but everything she'd tested thus far had been destroyed just as thoroughly as the outfit she'd first teleported in. In the end, she resigned herself to appearing naked in the fireplace of Gla Abbey. At least Talyndra would be in the same boat. Anyway, shouldn't she be used to arriving in strange places without any clothes on by now? It appeared to be prophesied...

Emily didn't think it was possible to get used to such a thing. But she would do it for Aria. And to get back home.

"Shimmerwood is a place of illusions," Althea warned her one night over dinner, the fire casting ominous shadows over her wizened features. "It takes a strong mind to resist its influence. Many have been lost to the forest's spell."

"How can I resist it?" asked Emily.

"Know yourself."

To Emily's chagrin, no further or more practical advice was forthcoming. But such was her resolve that when the appointed day arrived, she stood in the courtyard of Paja Abbey, arms wrapped around Talyndra, ready to disappear. She had on a simple peasant's dress made from single piece of fabric, which no one would miss much when it was burned up, and was barefoot.

Talyndra wore her leaf dress. "It's getting a bit stale, so this is good timing," she said to Emily, doing her best to act nonchalant. "I'm just upset I can't bring my swords."

Monks and statues gathered around to watch the disappearance, though they would see little more than an ascending column of flame. The real show was going to take place on the other side.

Emily cast her gaze over the crowd, meeting Dorian's eyes. He smiled and saluted, mouthing a wish for good luck. She smiled back, and then passed her gaze to Aria, who wore a small, reserved smile that nonetheless signaled total confidence in her student and friend.

"Give my regards to Abbess Loren," said Althea, who was standing next to Aria. The two had found a lot to talk about with each other. "She'll tell you all you need to know about finding the Shard of True Reflection."

"Thank you," said Emily.

"We'll see you back in a few days' time," Althea continued. "The Stoneshell fire will be kept well-stoked for your return."

"Please have a cloaks for us as well! And a much smaller audience!"

"Boo!" shouted Jivaro.

Emily giggled, despite herself. "Goodbye, everyone!" she said.

"See ya later!" shouted Talyndra.

Emily and Talyndra looked each other in the eye and decided it was time. Emily took a deep breath in, and then, in a calm, clear voice, said the words, "Gla Abbey."

Her world was consumed by fire, and then darkness.

Every previous teleportation had felt instantaneous, but this time Emily was conscious of the moments between her departure and arrival. Her body was spinning in all directions, with nothing but around her. She clung tight to Talyndra, and felt as the sensation of leaves was replaced with that of flesh. Ethereal winds whipped at her own exposed skin.

Then the spinning stopped, and Emily felt warm stone beneath her feet. Darkness was replaced by walls of weathered stone, animated by dancing shadows. A roaring fire warmed the skin of Emily's back. The smell of damp earth filled her nostrils, and a cloying sweetness tickled the back of her throat.

Emily swayed, releasing her grip on Talyndra and fighting back a wave of nausea. Talyndra let out a low groan, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Ugh," she muttered. "That was worse than usual."

"It must be... the distance," Emily wheezed, bent over and staring at the cracked stone floor, overgrown with moss. "Is this... Gla Abbey?"

Once sufficiently recovered, Emily and Talyndra surveyed the chamber. The walls, floor and ceiling were cobbled together from rough-hewn rocks, many of which had fallen down and were lying in piles. Green moss grew in every crevice. The room's single feature was the hearth behind them, burning with Stoneshell fire. A narrow opening across from them showed dense foliage.

Talyndra stepped closer to the opening and scanned the area outside. "This must be Shimmerwood. I didn't realize the abbey was actually inside the forest."

"Perhaps the mages here are wood elves, like you," Emily suggested.

Talyndra shook her head. "This is no wood elf forest. The magical energy here feels twisted, wrong somehow. It's giving me a headache, and we've barely been here five minutes."

Despite the warmth of the fire, a chill spread through Emily's bones. The sight of Talyndra's bare butt as she peered into the forest reminded her of her own nudity, and she wrapped her arms across her body.

Talyndra glanced back at Emily. "I'd better get us something to wear. There's a tree just outside with nice big leaves that'll make excellent outfits."

"Thank you," said Emily, "I knew you were the right person to bring along!"

"Just try not to burn this outfit up, okay. Not every tree has suitable leaves, especially in a strange forest like this one."

"Hey!" But before Emily could finish her retort, Talyndra had slipped through the chamber's entrance, disappearing into the shimmering, mist-wreathed forest beyond.

Left alone in the strange, silent chamber, Emily shivered. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, but it did little to dispel her growing unease. Cautiously, and with her hands firmly covering herself, she took a few steps towards the entrance and peered out.



The forest was impossibly dense, with barely any clear ground between the entrance to her ruin and the thicket of trees. A rolling mist suffused the place, further hurting visibility. Though Talyndra could be no more than a few yards from the entrance, Emily could not see her.

The air was thick with honeyed-green mist, and what little sunlight permeated the trees had a sickly green tinge. The whole place was suffused with a smell that made Emily feel light-headed. A cloying sweetness, so strong that she could taste it, but not quite like anything she'd ever smelled before.

A scream, sharp and sudden, sliced through the stillness of the forest. Emily's heart leaped into her throat. "Talyndra!" she whispered, blood pounding in her ears.

Fear overriding apprehension, Emily scrambled through the narrow opening, her bare feet sinking into the soft, mossy earth. The cloying sweetness of the mist intensified, making her head spin. "Talyndra!" she called again, panic cracking her voice.

The mist swirled around her, obscuring her vision, making the trees seem to shift and sway like ghostly figures. Then, through the swirling green, she saw a splash of vibrant color. As she drew closer, the scene that unfolded before her was not what she had expected. Not a scene of danger or struggle, but... a tea party.

A group of the most peculiar creatures Emily had ever encountered were gathered around a low, moss-covered table, sipping tea from delicate porcelain cups. There was a plump, pink dwarf woman in a frilly dress with a wide-brimmed hat perched jauntily on its head, its tiny arms gesticulating wildly as she recounted a story. A sleek, black snake with emerald eyes coiled gracefully around a teapot, its forked tongue flicking out occasionally to sample the steaming brew. A small bipedal creature, that looked like a cross between a man and a bird, covered in feathers and wearing a vest made of leaves, crouched near a plate of miniature cakes, dipping its long beak into the frosting.

They all looked up as Emily approached, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to outright delight.

"Welcome, welcome!" chirped the bird-man, his voice surprisingly deep and resonant. "We were just about to pour another cup. Do join us!"

Emily stared at them, her mouth agape. She had been prepared to face monstrous beasts, cunning traps, perhaps even the wrath of the forest itself. But a tea party? It was so utterly unexpected, so incongruous with the eerie atmosphere of the Shimmerwood, that for a moment, she was speechless.

The pink lady, noticing her hesitation, gestured towards an empty seat at the table. "Don't be shy, dear," it said, its voice warm and inviting. "There's plenty of tea to go around."

Now that her panic had subsided, Emily was once again keenly aware of her nudity, and clung to her body. She managed a weak smile. "I, uh... thank you," she stammered, her gaze darting between the strange creatures and her own bare form. The situation was beyond awkward, yet there was something oddly disarming about their cheerful hospitality.

She cautiously approached the table, her cheeks burning. The black snake poured her a cup of steaming tea, its emerald eyes twinkling with amusement. "Milk or sugar?" it hissed, its voice surprisingly gentle.

"Just... just tea is fine," Emily mumbled, taking the offered cup with trembling hands, still not quite believing what was happening to her. She sat down on the low-slung branch of a nearby tree, squeezing her thighs together.

As she sipped the tea, a blend of fragrant herbs and sweet berries, she couldn't help but feel a sense of surreal amusement creeping in. Here she was, naked and stranded in a magical forest, having tea with a snake, a dwarf and a bird-person. This was not quite how she had envisioned her quest for the Shard of True Reflection unfolding. And where was Talyndra?

The tea went down smooth and made Emily feel better. Her eyes darted between the dwarf lady's dress and the bird-man's leafy vest. Even the snake, she now noticed, was wearing a red bowtie just under his diamond-shaped head. Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she began, voice trembling slightly. "This tea is quite lovely, thank you. But, um, as I guess you can see, I'm feeling a little, uh, underdessed for this occasion. Would anyone happen to have a spare cloak or something?"

The three party-goers exchanged glances. Then, eyes lighting up, the pink lady tottered over to a nearby bush, plucked a handful of brightly colored flowers, and wove them into a delicate crown. Smiling, she walked over to Emily and bade her to lower her head. Emily did so, and the lady placed the crown gently on Emily's head.

"There you go, dear," she said. "That's much better! Would you like some more tea?"

Emily managed a weak smile, feeling more self-conscious than ever. "It's... lovely," she said, "But I'm still, uh... I mean, I don't want to be a bother... but..."

"Oh of course!" the lady exclaimed, slapping her forehead. "How silly of me! I forgot the most important part! Charles, hold still, would you?" With this, the lady leaned over to her side and deftly plucked a handful of feathers from the birdman's head.

The bird-man shrieked in pain, his cry something between a human scream and a bird call, so loud and shrill that Emily physically winced at it.

"Oh, quit fussing," said the pink lady. "We must show our guest the proper hospitality."

The pink lady deftly wove the feathers into Emily's flower crown before stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Beautiful," she said. "You're quite ready for the tea party now, love."

Emily could only smile weakly. Clearly, these people were insane.

The snake poured her a fresh cup of tea, and the pink lady whispered something in the ear of the bird-man, who nodded gravely, looking in Emily's direction. Perhaps... perhaps they thought she was the insane one? After all, she was the one wandering around a strange forest in the nude. Even the snake wore a bowtie.



Just then, Talyndra emerged from the swirling mist, a broad smile on her face. She wore a simple dress made of leaves and cradled a similar one in her arms. "Emily!" she announced, her voice ringing with satisfaction. "I've got you covered—literally!"

Emily could see her smile faltered as she took in the scene. There she was, adorned with a flower crown and a smattering of feathers, sat awkwardly on a tree branch, surrounded by the strange tea party guests. The pink dwarf, the feathered bird-man, and the bowtie-wearing snake all turned to Talyndra, their expressions shifting from cheerful welcome to something colder, more guarded. The air in the clearing crackled with tension, the lighthearted atmosphere of the tea party instantly evaporating.

"Talyndra?" Emily said, relief flooding through her. "Where were you? I heard you scream—I thought something terrible had happened!" She felt suddenly guilty for getting so wrapped up in this strange tea party that she had not kept looking for Talyndra.

Talyndra's gaze flickered to Emily, then back to the peculiar trio. "Scream?" she asked. "Wasn't me. I was busy gathering our garments." She held Emily's leaf dress aloft, then eyed the group suspiciously. "Who are these... people?"

Emily shot her a bewildered glance that said, "I don't know either."

The pink dwarf lady sniffed disdainfully. "A little green hussy, dressed in rags, barged into our private party, unannounced, and starts interrogating us? Now I've seen everything!" she said, turning her sharp gaze on Talyndra. "It is I who should be asking who you are! Or perhaps who you think you are!"

The bird-man bobbed his head in agreement, letting out a series of sharp chirps and clicks. The snake remained silent, its emerald eyes fixed on Talyndra, its forked tongue constantly flicking in and out, tasting the air.

Emily, sensing the escalating tension, scrambled to her feet, and placed herself between the pink dwarf and Talyndra. "Talyndra is my friend," she said. She reached out for the leaf outfit Talyndra had brought, savouring the feeling of the leaves. "Thank you, Talyndra," she said. "This is perfect. I'll just put it on and then we can be on our way."

The pink dwarf lady let out a gasp of horror and slapped Emily's hands away with surprising force. "Good heavens, child!" she exclaimed. "You can't possibly wear that! It's... it's utterly dreadful! The craftsmanship is appalling, the material is substandard, and the overall design is simply barbaric!"

Talyndra bristled, her hand instinctively moving towards her hip, though she had not brought her twin swords. "Barbaric?" she growled, her eyes narrowing. "These are perfectly fresh leaves, sewn in a classic wood elf pattern!"

"I'm sure they are," the dwarf lady replied, contempt dripping from her every word. "And while such a thing may be appropriate for a dirty tree-swinger such as yourself, they are an insult to our Lady Emily of Shimmerwood."

"Maybe you're confusing me with someone else," said Emily, desperate to cover herself with the outfit that was right in front of her.

The pink lady chuckled. "Your name is Emily, is it not?"

Emily's expression betrayed the truth of the woman's statement, though she did not recall introducing herself to these people. The sickly scent that pervaded everything in this forest was starting to make her light-headed. She just wanted to put on some clothes, find the Shard of True Reflection and get out of here. Why did getting dressed always have to turn into such a major ordeal for her?

"Really, it's fine," she insisted to the pink lady, taking the leaf dress from Talyndra. "It'll do for now."

"Nonsense!" the pink lady declared, her voice ringing with authority. "We insist on providing you with an outfit worthy of your status." She gestured towards Emily with a flourish. "Charles, fetch my spectacles!" she said to the bird-man. "And Seraph," she addressed the snake, "be a dear and help our guest prepare for her fitting."

The snake moved with lightning speed, abandoning the teapot and springing towards her. Its yellow eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, and before Emily could react, the snake had coiled itself around her body, its smooth scales squeezing gently against her skin. She gasped, her body tensing involuntarily as the snake constricted its coils, pinning her arms to her sides. There was a crash, and realized she had dropped her teacup.



"Don't worry, dear," the pink dwarf lady said, her voice saccharine. "Seraph won't hurt you. He's a darling, really."

"Burn it!" Talyndra shouted, her hand again hovering over the absent hilt of her twin swords. "Use your fire, Emily!"

The pink dwarf lady, however, shook her head, her expression grim. "I wouldn't advise that, dear," she said, her voice laced with warning. "Seraph's wouldn't hurt a fly, not consciously, but he does have extraordinary reflexes. Survival instinct and all that. His venom is quite potent and very fast-acting. We wouldn't want to risk an unfortunate accident, would we?"

Emily looked into the snake's yellow eyes and felt the end of its tongue against her forehead. Its embrace tightened slightly. While she could summon her fire almost instantly, engulf herself and teleport back to the ruin, she may still not be fast enough to avoid a bite. She glanced at Talyndra, whose expression mirrored her own apprehension.

"Tell your pet to release her," Talyndra said coldly.

The pink lady tittered with amusement. "Seraph is no one's pet. He is my dear friend, and a kindred soul in matters of taste. I dare say his fashion sense is more exacting than even my own. He is merely protecting our dear friend Emily from the indignity of those rags."

"Indignity!" Talyndra fumed. "You've been forcing her to stand her around here naked!"

"Any lady of taste would sooner bare it all than deign to adorn herself with that disaster!"

"It's perfectly adequate," Talyndra growled, holding the leaf dress out in front of her. It was quite similar to her own, a short sleeveless dress made of broad leaves.

The dwarf lady raised an eyebrow. "Adequate? My dear, 'adequate' simply isn't in our vocabulary. Especially not for the Stoneshell Bearer." She snatched the leaf dress from Talyndra's grasp and turned it this way and that. "The stitching is haphazard, the leaves are uneven, and the overall design is just uninspired."

"It's a dress made of leaves!" Talyndra protested. "We're on a mission here, not attending a debuntante ball!"

"A lady should always look her best," the dwarf lady said. "But perhaps we can still work with this. It'll be a challenge, but Maisy Hillflower never shrinks from a challenge. We'll start with the material. Those leaves are far too coarse." She turned to Charles, the bird-man, who handed her a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. "Thank you, dear. Now, please fetch us some silk leaves from the whispering willows by the stream. And some dew-kissed petals from the moon orchids. We need something with a bit more shimmer."

The bird-man bowed and scurried off into the mist.

"Now, the design," the dwarf lady, Maisy Hillflower, continued, turning her attention back to the leaf dress. "It lacks... flow. Movement. Drama." She closed her eyes for a moment. "We'll need to incorporate some cascading vines, perhaps some iridescent moss, and definitely some strategically placed gemstones. Yes, I suppose we might be able to salvage this after all."

She handed the dress back to Talyndra. "Here," she said. "Unweave this, and then we can decide what to keep. Some of these leaves may be acceptable as a base, but I think we will discard most of them."

Talyndra glared at the dwarf, her hands clenched into fists. But, looking at Emily's pleading expression and the snake that was still tasting her forehead, she took the dress and began to carefully unravel the woven leaves, her movements stiff with suppressed anger, the green tendrils of her magic bright and jagged.

Emily, still trapped in the snake's coils, could only watch in frustrated silence, her cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation. She felt like a prize pig being prepared for a show. All the while, the sweetly nauseating scent of the mist intensified, and the snake's scales began to feel clammy from her own sweat.

Maisy Hillflower, perched on a moss-covered rock like a tiny, pink queen, directed Talyndra's every move with a relentless stream of criticism and instructions. "No, no, no! Not like that! You're pulling too hard! Do you want to tear the leaves? Honestly, I've seen goblins with more finesse!"

Talyndra gritted her teeth, her fingers moving with increasing speed and precision as she unraveled the leaf dress. The vibrant green tendrils of her magic sparked and crackled around her hands.

"And the stitching!" Maisy continued, peering through her spectacles. "It's atrocious! Utterly barbaric! Are you using thorns? Thorns! Have you no sense of decency? We'll be using moonbeam silk, spun by the dreamweavers themselves. It's finer than a spider's web and twice as strong."

After Maisy had rejected Talyndra's third design concept, Emily tried to interject. "I appreciate the gesture, truly," she said, her voice strained. "But we are in a little bit of a hurry here."

Maisy Hillflower waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense, dear! There is always time to look one's best!"

The snake, Seraph, tightened its coils slightly, perhaps in agreement with Maisy's assessment. Emily could feel its cool scales pressing against her skin, the pressure almost comforting despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Just then, Charles, the bird-man, returned, his arms laden with shimmering leaves, iridescent moss, and colorful flowers. He laid his bounty before Maisy, who examined each item with a critical eye.

"Excellent, Charles!" she exclaimed, her voice ringing with approval. "These silk leaves are exquisite! And the moon orchids... divine! Now, let's see what magic we can weave with these." She turned back to Talyndra, her eyes gleaming with a manic energy. "Right, you! Pay attention! I'm going to show you how a real artist shapes nature's bounty."

For what felt like hours, Emily watched, trapped in the snake's embrace, as Maisy Hillflower directed Talyndra in the creation of a new dress. The dwarf's tiny hands moved with astonishing speed and precision, weaving the silk leaves, iridescent moss, and glittering gemstones into a garment that seemed to shimmer and shift with the light. Unlike Talyndra, Maisy did not use magic, but weaved and sewed like a mundane dressmaker.

Talyndra, her initial resentment gradually giving way to a grudging admiration, followed Maisy's instructions, her own magic softening and blending with the dwarf's meticulous craftsmanship. Occasionally, a flash of green would erupt from her hands, a spark of her own creative spirit asserting itself, only to be quickly subdued by Maisy's sharp reprimand. "Not there! That's too much! Ugh, I despair for wood elf kind!"

As the dress neared completion, Emily couldn't deny its beauty. Maisy had transformed Talyndra's rough and ready creation into a garment of great beauty. And unlike the work of the last seamstress she'd encountered, this dress had no conspicuously missing sections. She found herself eager to try it on, and not merely to regain some scrap of modesty. Clothing had become utilitarian during her time in Thessolan, but this dress awakened long-dormant feelings that were perhaps more appropriate for a department store changing booth than the middle of an enchanted forest. After all she'd been through, Emily decided not to begrudge herself the girlish excitement of trying on a pretty dress.

Finally, Maisy gave Talyndra a curt nod and took the dress from her, holding it up to the light. She gave a small sigh of satisfaction and cast a meaningful glance at Seraph.

Emily let out a breath as the snake uncoiled himself from her body, finally allowing her tensed muscles to relax. Seraph slithered back to the teatable and used his tail to pour a fresh cup of tea, which he lapped at with his darting forked tongue. Relieved and a little bit excited, Emily took the dress from Maisy and carefully stepped into it. She'd been expecting an outfit made of leaves to irritate her skin, but this one was so finely woven it felt as smooth as the softest silk.

"Stand up straight!" Maisy instructed. "Let's see the dress properly!"

Emily did as she was instructed, pulling her shoulders back and stretching into her neck. She'd become unaccustomed to this sort of proud posture, to intentionally making herself the center of attention. At Maisy's command, she flounced the dress playfully and spun around for her audience.



"Magnificent," Maisy said finally. Then, turning to Talyndra, she added, "Perhaps you have the makings of a competent dress-maker after all."

Talyndra merely rolled her eyes, but Emily could see a flicker of pride in her expression. She'd never admit it, but this strange pink elf lady had drawn the best out of her.

"Now that you're suitably attired," Maisy said, gesturing towards the forest with a sweep of her tiny hand, "you may proceed with your quest. The Shard of True Reflection lies deep within the heart of the Shimmerwood. Be warned, the path is fraught with illusions and deception. Only those who can see past the surface, who can discern the true reflection from its counterfeits will find what they seek."

"How did you know we were looking for the Shard?" Talyndra asked, eyes narrow with suspicion.

"A lady has her intuition," Maisy replied, winking.

Talyndra groaned. "That's hardly an answer."

Maisy waved a hand dismissively. "The denizens of Shimmerwood know all there is to know about Emily Stoneshell Bearer and her wood elf companion Talyndra Moss-Whisper. How else could we have helped them construct the perfect outfit?"

Talyndra's eyes widened. "How did you know my name?"

But before Maisy could answer, the proceedings were interrupted by a loud rustling from the trees behind them. Everyone turned to see a figure emerge from the mist. It was a woman, with long, flowing hair. She was very visibly a woman, as her body was adorned only by an ornate mask that hid her face.

Emily and Talyndra exchanged bewildered glances. There was something eerily familiar about the figure's features, her gait and posture.

Maisy let out a squeal of delight and clapped her tiny hands together. "Lady Emily!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace the newcomer around the legs. "You're here! We were beginning to think you'd forgotten all about our little tea party!"



The figure returned the hug, patting Maisy affectionately on the back. Then she looked straight at Emily and, in a slow, deliberate movement, reached up and removed the mask.

Emily gasped. Staring back at her was a face identical to her own, a perfect copy, down to the smallest freckle. The only difference was the figure's expression, a cruel smile that Emily had never seen in a mirror.

"I would never miss a Hillflower tea-party," said the strange woman who looked just like Emily, addressing Maisy while keeping her eyes fixed on Emily's. "You always host the most delightful get-togethers." Her voice, like her face, was indistinguishable from the real thing.

Maisy blushed as she stepped back from the hug. "Oh, stop, Lady Emily, you're too kind."

Emily, stunned and bewildered, could only stammer, "But... but... I'm Emily! Who are you?"

The other Emily took a step towards her, her stride long, head held up, and chest puffed out. "You do look familiar, I'll grant," she said, her nose almost touching Emily's. "But the true Emily bears the Stoneshell."

Emily blinked in confusion, then sighed with relief. "Y-yes, yes, she does," she said, placing a hand to her chest. Her fingers brushed smooth skin and the blood in her veins ran cold.

The other Emily took a step back, the skip in her stride making the pendant of her necklace bounce up and then down again. The pendant was gray and shaped like a seashell. Somehow, the other Emily had taken the Stoneshell without Emily's notice.

"Give that back!" Emily yelled. She focused her attention on the pendant, willing it towards her like she had so many times in the past. But this time, she felt that something was holding it in place—a magical force equal and opposite to her own. It remained firmly in place.

The other Emily's grin widened, displaying her teeth menacingly. "But it's all I've got to wear," she said in a mocking tone, absently twirling a finger around the necklace's chain. "Surely you of all people would understand that." Mockingly, she motioned towards covering herself with her arms, as Emily had so often found herself doing.

Emily blushed. Though she was now fully dressed, the absence of the Stoneshell's familiar weight on her chest made her feel vulnerable in a way that even actual nudity no longer could.

"For shame!" cried Maisy. "Lady Emily, please forgive me for indulging this impostor!" She scowled at Emily. "I was cruelly duped by this shapeshift, fooled into I wasting my energy and talents on dressing her while my true lady wandered through Shimmerwood, her fair skin exposed to the elements! It's simply too awful!"

"I won't hold it against you," said the naked Emily, pacing slowly and producing flickers of flame about her fingertips. "Appearances can be deceiving, and Shimmerwood is full of illusions."

"Yeah, like you!" Talyndra shouted, putting her head down and charging the naked Emily.

The naked Emily raised an eyebrow, turned her head, and blew a stream of fire at the base of a tree at the edge of the clearing. As the grass below the tree caught fire, she lobbed a fireball from her palm at Emily. Finally, with a small wink, she turned her fire on herself and promptly burst into a column of flame.

The fireball was too fast and too close to dodge. It exploded in Emily's face, but did not harm her. Instead, she found herself instantly transported to the other side of the clearing, dizzy and disoriented, head pounding. She scrambled to keep her footing, but failed and fell back with a thud. She felt a gentle warmth against her buttocks while smoke rose in front of her eyes.

At the same time, just ahead of her, Talyndra collided head-first with a tree. Emily winced, only partially from her own pain and surprise.

The other Emily stood by the table in the middle of the clearing, pouring herself a cup of tea. The Stoneshell pendant around her neck was now joined by an elaborate dress made of flowers and leaves—the very same one that had adorned Emily only seconds earlier.

"Restrain them," said the other Emily, her tone bored and disdainful.

The bird-man and snake were only too happy to comply.

By the time Emily came to her senses, she found herself strung up between two trees, both arms and legs securely tied with thick lengths of rope, suspending her in a starfish position over the tea party. Talyndra was similarly positioned on two adjacent trees, and the snake sat coiled beneath her, nibbling on the leaves of her skirt.

Hazy and still only half-conscious, Emily slowly pieced together what had happened. This other Emily seemed to have even greater power and control over the Stoneshell than she did. She'd set a fire, and then used a second fireball to teleport Emily to its location. Even more amazingly, she'd then teleported herself into Emily's previous position, right inside of her leaf dress.

This meant, of course, that Emily now hung starfished over the tea-party completely naked and unable to cover herself. And Talyndra would meet the same fate once the snake finished his meal.

Suspended between the trees, Emily felt the weight of every gaze upon her, each one like a physical touch against her bare skin. The sweet, intoxicating aroma of Shimmerwood made her head spin. Her ankle itched strangely, around the Bronzeband.



The other Emily had taken a seat with her cup of tea. She now leaned back, her eyes roaming over Emily's exposed form with disdain. "I think I wore it better," she said. "But perhaps we should let our other guests decide."

At the other Emily's words, a human figure emerged from the mist. Someone Emily recognized.

Emily's jaw dropped. How could it be?

Standing before her, dressed in tight, low-rise jeans and a glittery purple tanktop, was none other than Sabrina Miller. Sabrina, her highschool tormentor. She was an adult now, but had the same straight blonde hair and haughty expression. Hands planted on her hips, she met Emily's gaze and sneered.

Even after all this time, just the sight of Sabrina was enough to make Emily feel like that awkward, bookish teenager all over again. That she was spread out naked in front of her tormentor made the feeling ten times worse. She tried to pull her arms and legs in to conceal herself, but was swiftly reminded of the ropes holding them firmly in place.

"Well, well, well," Sabrina said, her cutting tone seemingly summoned from Emily's worst memories, her eyes sparkling with malice. "Emily Corlett, in all her glory. I see you've lost some of that baby fat."

It was definitely her. But how? How could Sabrina be here, in Thessolan?

Sabrina reached out a manicured index finger and traced the line of Emily's jaw, her touch lingering with an uncomfortable intimacy, and making its way down her neck. Emily shivered involuntarily as the finger brushed her collarbone and continued down.

"Jumpy little Emily," Sabrina taunted. "She finally got her head out of all those books and started living. But really, Em, this is a little much. You don't need to go to these sorts of lengths to get a bit of action."

Emily let out a squeal as Sabrina squeezed her breast, a little too roughly.

"Or maybe you do." Sabrina shrugged. "Heaven knows what was in those books of yours that made you such a freak."

Tears welled in Emily's eyes, prompting a satisfied smirk from Sabrina. Then there was a rustling in the leaves just beyond the clearing, and Emily heard another familiar voice. "Emily? Woah, what—what's going on here?!"

Sabrina stepped aside to reveal a tall, well-built man with short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. It was Michael, the boy Emily had spent two years of her highschool career obsessing over, doodling in her notebooks, watching from afar, and never being able to speak to. She cast her eyes down, unable to maintain eye contact as he gasped at the sight of her body.

After a moment of shock, he seemed to come to his senses and rushed to her side. "Who did this to you?!" he shouted.

Sabrina chuckled. "She did it herself, Mike," she said. "All for you."

"What?" Michael's tone wavered between disgust and intrigue.

"Our bookish little Emily is all grown up," said Sabrina, placing a hand on Michael's chest. "And she's making sure everyone knows it."

Michael cast a sidelong glance at Emily, appraising her dispassionately. "I'm flattered," he said. "And also kind of impressed. But... I've always been more into blondes."

Sabrina stepped forward into his embrace, and his eyes turned to her. He seemed to entirely forget the naked girl beside him as he and Sabrina shared a long and intimate kiss. Their passion rose as they pushed themselves into each other, squirming and groping, and their skin began to glow with bright green light.

Emily's eye widened.

"Spirits!" shouted Talyndra, whose leaf dress had now been consumed up to her sternum.

The other Emily, who had been watching the scene dispassionately from her seat at the tea table, strode forward now, her skin glowing the same faint green. Standing almost in between Michael and Sabrina, she cleared her throat loudly.

The lovers separated, Michael taking a few steps back before looking at the other Emily with a dazed expression. "Emily? But... weren't you just...?" He glanced back at the trees, and then at the other Emily. "How are there two of you?"

"There's only one, really," said the other Emily, placing a hand on his chest. "Only one you need to pay attention to, anyway."

Behind her, Sabrina made a disgusted expression. "Come on Mike, let's get out of here. Two Emily Corletts is two too many."

But Michael's attention was completely fixed on the other Emily, to the exclusion of everyone around him. She smiled sweetly before reaching forward and planting a light kiss on his lips. "Do you still prefer blondes?" she purred.

"You're... beautiful," he stammered, his normally smooth demeanor completely lost.

"Michael!" Sabrina shouted, visibly furious, and Emily had to admit to herself that she was enjoying how angry her double was making her enemy.

The other Emily placed one hand on Michael's cheek, and reached her other arm behind her back. Keeping her eyes locked with Michael's, she summoned a fireball in her hand and flicked it at Sabrina.

Sabrina cried out as the flame struck her, but her screams were cut short as her whole body exploded in a bright flash of green light, leaving only a crumpled pair of jeans in the spot where she had stood.

The other Emily then took Michael's hand and led him away. He took no notice of what had happened to Sabrina. For her part, Emily's double glanced back over her shoulder and winked at Emily before disappearing into the forest.

Emily exchanged a quizzical glance with Talyndra, who by now had approximately three leaves left on her entire body. The snake had disappeared.

As Michael and the other Emily departed from view, other figures emerged from behind the trees. Some were human, dressed in modern clothing, and others were green-skinned wood elves, dressed in leaves. Male and female alike gasped and shouted at the sight of Emily and Talyndra strung up in their trees. They all appeared to be glowing with a faint green light.

Rather than rushing to the aid of the obviously distressed women, the figures whispered and giggled to each other, casting disdainful looks at the trees. A wood elf whispered something in Maisy's ear, and a human figure exchanged a disapproving glance with the bird-man.

A few of the humans stepped closer to where Emily hung. She recognised Ms. Katsuragi, her highschool mathematics teacher, whose face was contorted in disgust. "I expected so much better of you, Emily," she said, somehow managing to peer down her spectacles at a girl hanging slightly above her. "What a waste of a good mind."

"I didn't—aiie!" Emily's protestations were cut short by sudden flash of pain across her buttocks. Fighting tears, she looked down to see the loathsome grin of Dudley Newsom, a former classmate in Katsuragi's class. He had grown a scraggly goatee since she'd last seen him, but his expression was unmistakeable.

Katsuragi shook her head. "I suppose you've decided that's all you're good for now, putting yourself on display like this. Why use your brain when you can far more easily use your body? Feminism weeps for women like you. Give her another one, Dudley."

"Right away, ma'am," said Dudley, obeying an authority figure for the first time in his life and pulling his arm back. "But, wait, what's the stuff on her leg?"

The second blow never came. The itchy feeling on Emily's ankle had slowly been spreading up her calf, but she had been only dimly aware of it due to the many other more powerful feelings occupying her consciousness. It now became the only thing she felt, a tingle, then a numbness, then a powerful shaking. It spread up her left leg and overtook her entire body.

A thick black sludge exploded before her, blotting out the whole world in its immensity. The people—spirits?—before her screamed in agony but were quickly silenced. Everything around Emily became dark and obscured, but she felt a great comfort and warmth.

Then the darkness erupted with orange and purple spots, which formed into intricate patterns. Emily watched, dazzled by the shifting lines and colors, feeling a sense of wonder and then one of calm. Millions of tiny hairs gently tickled her all over, making her squirm with pleasure. She was safe, warm and protected.

The nightmoss had kept its promise to remain with her and protect her always.

After a long sleep full of wonderful but indescribable dreams, dreams that evaporated from her mind as soon as they ended, leaving only a residue of joy, Emily awoke. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her limbs, nuzzling against a soft bed of black moss. Smiling serenely, she lifted herself to a seated position, feeling the most well-rested she had in ages.

She was still in Shimmerwood, could still smell its cloying sweetness, but the spirits and the tea party denizens were gone, and so were the ropes that had bound her arms and legs. Night had fallen, and the moonlight shone through the trees, illuminating a path that sloped upwards ahead of her.

Beside her low moss bed lay a torn pair of jeans. Sabrina's, right where they had fallen. Emily looked around cautiously, but could see no sign of the crowd of taunting people, the strange tea-party denizens, or her doppelganger. She didn't see Talyndra either. It all felt like a dream.

A stab of panic jolted through Emily's body as she felt the absence of the Stoneshell's weight against her chest. This confirmed that it had not been a dream. Her doppelganger was still out there, wearing her necklace! And her flower dress!

Emily picked up the tattered and slightly burned jeans—more evidence of her recent ordeal—and squeezed herself into them. She was grateful for the coverage, but realized that she would just as soon trade it for the Stoneshell.

After yanking both jean leg over her heels, Emily's hand brushed over the Bronzeband around her ankle. The nightmoss—nightmoss from the cave where she'd foiled the old goblin's ritual—had been hiding beneath it this whole time. She now realized the source of the fuzzy leotard that had appeared in Paja Abbey—it had had the same soft bristles as the nightmoss that had just... saved her? She still wasn't sure what had happened.

"Hey nightmoss," she whispered, feeling slightly crazy. "Um, thanks for that. Do you think you could, uh, make me a top? And maybe some boots?"

There was no response. Emily felt nothing against her ankle but the smooth metal of the Bronzeband, and her chest and feet remained unadorned. "Guess it doesn't work like that, huh?"

Sighing, she stood up from the moss bed and shimmied her jeans up so that she could fasten the button. Sabrina preferred a low waistline, which made this an almost impossible task across Emily's wider hips.

Her efforts were disrupted when a familiar voice called out from the shadows. "Emily? Is that you?"

Relief washed over Emily as Talyndra emerged from the trees, her face etched with worry. Her skin was flecked with mud and a long scratch marred her cheek. She was covered only by a few scant leaves from her mostly devoured dress.

"Talyndra!" Emily cried, rushing towards her friend. "What happened? Where did everyone go?"

"They all vanished," Talyndra said, grimacing. "After you... after that black stuff exploded everywhere, the whole party was thrown into disarray, with everyone screaming at each other. I'd managed to trick that stupid snake into chewing my bonds, and with everyone distracted I was able to wiggle free. I was down and ready to fight, but I'd only thrown two punches before everyone just disappeared. Humans, elves, even the dwarf lady and her weird friends."

"You said yourself that they were spirits," Emily replied.

Talyndra nodded sagely. "Yes. There's powerful magic in this place. Some of those elves... they couldn't have been here. One of them, Fenhir, died three years ago."

"The humans who tormented me were from my world," Emily added.

"That explains their get-up," Talyndra said, casting a repulsed gaze at Emily's jeans. "Those look really uncomfortable."

"Of course you would think so," Emily replied, chuckling softly. Though she did have to admit to herself that the jeans were awfully tight around her hips, now that she'd finally managed to get the button done.

Talyndra's gaze traveled upwards. "I see you're still missing the Stoneshell. We're going to have to get it back."

Emily's thoughts briefly drifted to the statues at Paja Abbey, who would now all be frozen, just as Aria had been during those times when Emily had been separated from her necklace. She nodded to Talyndra.

Talyndra closed her eyes and whispered a few words in a language Emily didn't recognize, the sounds soft and melodic, like the rustling of leaves in the wind. A faint green light emanated from her hands, swirling and coalescing into a miniature, three-dimensional map of the forest, complete with shimmering trees, winding paths, and a small lake. Suspended above the lake, glowing with a silver light, was a tiny replica of the Stoneshell.

Emily focused on the tiny symbol and attempted to summon it, just as she had done on board the pirate ship. But this time, something stopped her. She felt the same resistance that she had felt when trying to summon the Stoneshell away from her double. "It's still with her," Emily said. "I can't move it."

"Then we'll have to go to it. Lead the way."

Emily and Talyndra were represented on the map by two pulsing green dots. Talyndra held the map out in front of them as they walked through the misty, moonlit forest. Though the air was still thick with the sickly sweet smell of Shimmerwood, and though the trees still crowded around them, their branches reaching out like claws, Emily and Talyndra's newfound sense of purpose and direction made the place feel somehow less oppressive.

"Is she a spirit too?" Emily asked as they walked. "My double, I mean."

"She must be," Talyndra said. "There's only one Emily Stoneshell Bearer."

"That's a relief."

Talyndra raised an eyebrow. "She's a powerful spirit, for sure. And she can use the Stoneshell just as you do."

"Better, even," Emily muttered. "How is that even possible? Lady Elara's a powerful mage, and she wasn't able to do anything with it."

Talyndra shrugged. "Shimmerwood is a strange place."

As they approached the lake, the silver glow of the Stoneshell on the miniature map intensified, pulsing like a beating heart. Emily's own heart pounded in her chest. Her confrontation with the other Emily, the powerful and malevolent spirit who wielded her own magic better than she did, was fast approaching.

When they were almost upon the water, Talyndra killed the map, fearing that its glow would give away their position. Just before the lake came into view, they stepped off the dirt path and into the trees, so as to maintain cover. Leaves and branches tickled their skin as they crept towards the lake.

Finally, peering through the thick cover of leaves, they saw it. The silvery surface of the lake shimmered in the moonlight, its stillness broken only by the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. Suspended above the water, bathed in an ethereal glow, Emily's doppelganger floated, her legs crossed beneath her and her arms up. Her eyes were closed, her expression serene, lost in deep meditation. She still wore the leaf dress and the Stoneshell glowed orange below her neck.

"She's dead to the world," Talyndra said. "Approach quietly."

Emily gave a firm nod and slowly, carefully crept forward between the trees. The double took no notice of her. Talyndra kept watch, giving Emily a reassuring smile every time she glanced back. Emily reached the lake, suppressing a gasp as she stepped into the cold water. As she moved further in, Emily felt the unfamiliar sensation of soaked denim against her legs. The water was smooth and still, disrupted only by Emily's slow progress, which it marked with rippling waves. Her double remained focused on her meditation.

Each step was deliberate, the lakebed soft and slick beneath her bare feet, the water rising almost to her hips as she came within spitting distance of her double.

The air around them with faint energy, a hum that vibrated against Emily's skin, raising the fine hairs on her arms. She paused just ahead of her double, close enough to see the rise and fall of her chest, to hear her shallow breath. The other Emily hung in the air so that her head was slightly higher than Emily's own.

Emily could feel the Stoneshell's presence now, a warmth that called out her, a pulse that seemed in time with her own heartbeat. With a start, she realized that she couldn't see it anymore—the pendant no longer rested on her double's chest. Behind the leaves of the girl's bodice, something glowed orange.

She knew what had to be done.

Hands trembling, heart resolute, Emily reached out and touched the leaves of the dress's neckline. Her double's breath caught, and she froze, adrenaline spiking in her veins. A tense moment passed before her double's breathing resumed, eyes still closed, and Emily allowed herself a tiny sigh of relief. She gripped the leaves of the bodice tightly, mentally preparing herself for what came next. Casting a backward glance at Talyndra, who had now waded into the lake behind her, Emily communicated her plan without words.

Talyndra grinned devilishly, and soon green tendrils of wood elf magic joined Emily's hands. Slowly and carefully, Emily pulled the leaves away as their bonds were weakened by Talyndra's magic.

The outer leaves came apart with a soft, wet rustle, revealing more beneath—tighter, more intricate weaves consisting of smaller leaves that hugged her double's form. The leaves were smooth and slightly sticky, leaving a faint residue on Emily's fingertips, the scent of crushed foliage mingling with the lake's metallic tang. As she removed more of the leaves, Talyndra's magic grew stronger, and they worked faster together. Talyndra's magic masked any tearing sounds that might awaken the other Emily, and so the only sound of their work was the almost imperceptible plop of leaves dropping onto the surface of the lake.

The double remained oblivious, her meditation unbroken, as the front of her dress came fully open, revealing her breasts. Emily's fingers brushed against the double's skin—cool and smooth, a mirror of her own—and she felt a jolt of unease at the intimacy of the act. It felt as much like undressing herself as it felt like undressing another.

Emily pulled away more leaves, exposing the double's ribs, but the orange glow seemed to fall lower and lower the more she unpicked.

The water lapped higher now, soaking Emily up to her waist, the cold seeping into her bones as she pressed on. She tore at the midsection of the dress, revealing her own stomach on another body, the leaves falling away to drift on the lake's surface like tiny boats. Her hands worked faster and faster, moving below the double's navel and towards her hips.

Working on the leaves of the skirt, Emily's fingers at last grazed a familiar silver chain. Excitement growing, she tore at the skirt, forcing the dress fully apart.

The necklace, now visible, circled her double's waist like a belt, the orange-glowing Stoneshell pendant hanging in front of her smooth and hairless but otherwise very familiar crotch. Emily's fingers brushed the surface of the pendant and felt its warmth instantly fill her whole body.

Talyndra's magic slowed the descent of what remained of the double's dress as it fell from her back and into the water, leaving her unadorned but for the Stoneshell. Talyndra appeared to suppress a grimace at the destruction of her hard work before giving Emily a reassuring nod. Somehow, the double had remained completely oblivious as they'd stripped her. But they still had to retrieve the Stoneshell.

"Quickly," Talyndra mouthed.

Emily sucked in her resolve and reached her arms around her double's waist, almost hugging her hips as she groped for the necklace's clasp. She shivered as her fingers touched the skin of her double's back, trying to unhook the Stoneshell as lightly and delicately as she could, feeling her double's shallow breath against the top of her head all the while.

The clasp came undone, and Emily held the two parts of the chain firmly between the thumb and fingers of each hand.

It was then that the double's eyes opened.

[FinchAgent]

Emily gasped. With the Stoneshell in her grasp once more, fire blasted inadvertantly from her hands and arms, but dissipated against her doppleganger's skin like mere smoke.

Talyndra gave a startled yelp and stumbled backwards, tripping and landing in the water with a loud splash.

The other Emily smiled serenely and bent her head to kiss Emily's forehead. Ice spiked in Emily's veins at the touch of her lips, and she staggered back, away from their impromptu embrace, one end of the Stoneshell necklace still firmly clasped in her right hand.

Memories flooded her conscious mind, as if unlocked by the double's kiss. She found herself thinking of Stuart and of Caelum, allies she had been unable to help—had abandoned to their fates. "Well done, Emily," her double said in a mocking tone. "You've looked out for yourself, no matter what. Screw those people who helped you!"

Emily's heart thudded in her chest, the icy kiss from her double lingering on her forehead like a brand, chilling her despite the warmth of the Stoneshell pulsing in her hand. The voices of Stuart and Caelum seemed to echo in her ears, blaming her for their terrible fates. She stumbled backward through the lake, the water surging at her hips, its cold grip tightening around her. The silver surface rippled violently now.

More memories came to her unbidden. She thought of her confrontation with Victus and the horrified look in his eyes as she'd destroyed his stone table. Her double scowled at her. "You've gotten the Stoneshell back every time, no matter what! Victus, Elara, who cares about their decades of magical experience? Of course a twenty-one year old girl from Earth knows better!"

The other Emily sat proud and defiant in the air. Her body, now free of the leafy dress, glowed a faint green, seemingly the mark of a forest spirit. Blue veins were visible beneath her pale, goosebumped skin.



The Stoneshell's chain dangled from Emily's right hand, its pendant swinging gently, its orange light casting flickering reflections across the lake's surface.

"You're the rightful bearer, aren't you?" Emily's double continued. "That entitles you to do whatever you want! Even strip a girl while she's sleeping!"

Talyndra, soaked and scrambling to her feet, wiped water from her eyes and hissed, "Emily, move!"

But Emily stood frozen to the spot, her gaze fixed on her double. The other Emily's eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. She felt the Stoneshell pendant tugging away from her.

"Powerful magic is dangerous in the wrong hands," said the other Emily. "You're messing with forces you don't understand."

Panic surged at the thought of letting the double retake her necklace, and Emily gripped it tighter, lifting it to her neck and clipping it behind her as quickly as her shivering hands could manage. Then she summoned two massive fireballs and each hand and threw them at her double.

Like before, the fire burst into harmless smoke on contact, her double merely chuckling while maintaining fierce eye contact with Emily. "You should let me take over," she said. "Surely you've already seen how much I am at this."

Emily stepped back, weighed down by the heavy fabric of her thoroughly soaked jeans.

Her double, still maintaining the same posture, glided towards her across the air, never breaking eye contact. "If I'd been there, Caelum would be a free merman. I could have won that duel fully clothed. And I would never have entangled myself with nightmoss."

With a loud pop, something small and metallic shot up in front of Emily's eyes, like a bullet. The other Emily's eyes widened as it raced towards her, hitting her right between the eyes. She cried out and lost her composure before dropping into the lake with a loud splash.

Emily glanced down, noting a strange sense of relief, as if she'd just released a breath she'd been holding. The projectile had been the top button of her too-tight jeans.

Emily also saw her double, plunged below the surface, her features marred by the water's churning. From this angle, it seemed as though Emily was looking at her own reflection on the lake surface.

A strange sound, like glass shattering in reverse, welled up in Emily's ears.

Emily's double's eyes and mouth were wide open, as if she was screaming. Emily's blood ran cold as she saw the Stoneshell appear around her double's neck.

She raised a hand to attack, and saw her double do the same. Fire burning around her fist, and she punched down with all her might. Her double punched up.

Fire would of course be instantly extinguished by water, but Emily's fist did not reach the water. Instead, she felt a smooth, transparent barrier, like... glass. Like a mirror.

The glass crunched against Emily's knuckles, sending a spiderwave of cracks along its surface. Her fire dissipated, and she locked eyes with her double for a moment before the mirror disintegrated.

Suddenly, she was alone. Her knuckles throbbed, dripping blood from the shattered glass. She opened her fingers, revealing a single triangular shard of glass in her palm. A partial reflection of her face stared out at her.

"I see you've found the Shard of True Reflection!" cried a voice from behind Emily's back.

Startled, she turned to see a smiling old woman standing on the riverbank. Next to her stood a wet and shivering Talyndra.

"This is Abbess Loren, Emily!" Talyndra yelled. "Gla Abbey is right behind these trees!"

Emily looked back at the glass shard in her palm. So this was the Shard of True Reflection. It just looked like a piece of broken glass to her. But at least this meant that her strange and confusing time in Shimmerwood was close to an end. Taking one last mystified glance, she slipped the shard into the pocket of her jeans and walked back to shore.

"You're bleeding!" said Talyndra, taking Emily's hand in her own. With a glow of green magic, she sealed the small cuts on Emily's knuckles.

"You must be very cold," said the Abbess, taking in Emily's bare torso and soaked jeans with a grandmotherly scrutiny that made Emily blush.

"Come, you can warm up in my office," she said, turning and leading Emily and Talyndra away from the lake.

Behind a line of trees lay a squat straw hut, which Abbess Loren proclaimed, with no little fanfare, to be Gla Abbey. "Welcome, weary travelers!"

Talyndra cast a confused glance at Emily. "It doesn't much like an abbey..." she whispered.

"Few things in Shimmerwood look like what they are!" proclaimed Abbess Loren, chuckling madly. She beckoned them into the hut, which had an entrance so small that even Talyndra had to duck to get through it.

But if Talyndra had been surprised by the abbey's outside appearance, she was even more taken aback by what it looked like on the inside. For beyond the tiny entrance, a cavernous room unfolded before them, its walls lined with bookshelves that groaned under the weight of leather-bound tomes. Golden candelabras flickered with warm light, casting dancing shadows across plush purple couches and ornate tables carved with swirling runes. The air smelled of aged parchment, beeswax, and a faint, floral undertone that reminded Emily of the forest's cloying sweetness, now softened into something comforting.

While Talyndra and Emily marveled at the room's opulent and impossible proportions, Loren retrieved a pair of thick woolen blankets from an oak cabinet. Both took the blankets and wrapped them gratefully around their shivering bodies.

Talyndra continued to marvel at the room around her, her blanket slipping slightly as she turned in a slow circle. "H-how is this possible?" she stammered, as Loren indicated a purple couch for them to sit on.

Loren laughed. "Everything in Shimmerwood is as real as you want it to be. Or as real as you don't want it to be, sometimes."

"That would explain some things," Emily said, thinking back over everything that had happened in this strange place. "I think."

"I'm sorry I couldn't meet you as soon as you arrived," said Loren. "Althea did send me a premonition about your visit, but I couldn't recall the exact time she said you'd arrive. The forest's influence, no doubt. Nevertheless, you seem to have been successful in your endeavors."

"Only just," Emily said. "That spirit was far more powerful than me."

Loren quirked an eyebrow. "If you really believed that, you never would have beaten her. But come, let's see that shard."

Emily fished the triangular piece of glass from her pocket, its edges rough against her fingertips, and handed it to Loren. The Abbess took it reverently, turning it over in her hands, the orange light from the candelabras catching its surface and throwing fractured reflections across the room.

"The Shard of True Reflection," Loren murmured. "I always knew it was out there, just waiting for the right person to find it. You seem to have been the right person, Emily Stoneshell Bearer, and not just for this. Let us now see our true reflections!"

Clapping her hands together with glee, Loren skipped to a table a few feet away, her movements disconcertingly spry for one of such advanced age. Then, taking the glass shard between both her hands, she pulled.

Emily's jaw dropped as the shard stretched out to the size of a full-length mirror, expanding between Loren's hands as though it were made of putty rather than glass. Once Loren was happy that she'd made it large enough, she propped it up against the edge of the table and took a few steps back.

The three women observed their true reflections.

Loren's was largely unchanged. She stood up slightly taller than her hunched, wizen figure, and her large, intelligent eyes were larger and seemed to sparkle even more than in real life. "Hmm, about what I expected," Loren commented.

Talyndra's reflection was muscle-bound and heavily scarred with a cocky grin, dressed in a sleek green leaf outfit. She brandished her beloved and much-missed twin swords. "Hark!" Talyndra cried. "A true warrior!"

Emily's reflection was, as her double had been, completely naked, but for the Stoneshell. She wore a serene expression, and held the real Emily's gaze with total equanimity, even as the real Emily felt a blush rise to her cheeks. Her reflection's hair hung behind her in a thick braid, and her skin was criss-crossed by faint blue lines.

After about a minute, Loren nodded curtly and pressed the top of the shard down so that it once again shrank to a size that could fit in a hand or pocket. She handed it back to Emily.

"What does... what does a true reflection mean?" Emily asked, turning the shard over in her palm.

"That's up to each of us to decide." Loren winked. "Yours is beautiful, Emily."

Talyndra nodded her agreement.

"Now, let us dress for dinner," Loren said, indicating a couple of screens for Emily and Talyndra to change behind, each with a sparkling array of fabric and leaf dresses. "I am very interested in news from Paja Abbey."

Emily followed Talyndra to the screens. Both selected complementary dresses of deep green leaves woven with golden threads. Emily's felt smooth against her skin as she slipped it on, comfortably hugging her form. They joined Loren in a dining room that seemed to perch atop an impossible tower, its windows offering a breathtaking view of Shimmerwood's moonlit canopy. The meal was lavish—roasted fruits, spiced breads, and a rich stew served by courteous monks eager to hear their tales.

But as the evening wore on, Emily’s mind drifted back to her double's taunts—Stuart, Caelum, Victus, the nightmoss. Even as she laughed with Talyndra and answered Loren’s questions, a cloud lingered over her mind. Later, in a well-appointed guest room—a cozy nook with a feather bed piled high with quilts—she undressed, peeling off the leaf dress and setting it aside. Before going to bed, she slid the Bronzeband from her ankle, its metal warm to the touch, and examined the skin beneath, half-expecting to see the dark tendrils of nightmoss she had felt earlier. But both her skin and the band's inner surface were unblemished, though the band seemed to possess a new, subtle heat. This was evidence enough of the nightmoss's continued presence.

She traced the band's contours, remembering how the nightmoss had clothed her, shielded her, saved her. If her double was right about one thing, it was that she hadn't fully understood it. Yet. That warmth, that connection, hinted at untapped power. If she could master it, it might rival the Stoneshell itself.

Emily slipped the Bronzeband back onto her ankle and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets over her. As she drifted toward sleep, she resolved to ask Abbess Loren about nightmoss in the morning.

[student]

I am in awe of "Emily, Naket in Thessolan."

[cradulich]

Thanks for continuing the story

[Horn-eman000]

Don't you get it, Emily? You're supposed to be naked, lol.

[FinchAgent]

Emily on the Rocks

The scent of burning leaves and the feeling of cool air on her skin told Emily that she had failed once more. She stomped a foot in frustration, slamming her bare sole against the slightly warm flagstone of a courtyard in a secluded part of Paja Abbey.

"I'm not making you another dress," said Talyndra, leaning against the wall with her arms folded and looking thoroughly unimpressed. "You really are a hazard around clothing, you know that?"

"It looked so simple when she did it," Emily said, mostly to herself. "Set fire to something underneath the clothes, then teleport to it. She appeared inside my dress, you saw it."

Talyndra shrugged. "Yeah, after she teleported you out of it. That's what you should be focusing on—learning to teleport other things."

Emily sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. "You're right, you're right. But I'd feel much better about visiting the other abbeys if I knew how to teleport into some clothes. It would make a better impression on the monks."

Talyndra giggled to herself. "Methinks someone's nervous about a different impression."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Emily lied, pulling her head through a shapeless monk's robe she had not yet burned. "And anyway, how can I possibly teleport something without burning it up in the process? I can teleport myself, but my body is impervious to the Stoneshell's fire." As she said this, Emily conjured a flame in the palm of her left hand and moved her right hand slowly through it, feeling only a slight warmth.

"You teleported me, didn't you? Though I have no desire to repeat the experience. Let Mister Spellbreaker have a turn."

"The other Emily could teleport people without touching them. But anyway. Do you think it's wise? Traveling with Dorian to this Tiedavon place, I mean." Emily bit her bottom lip.

"I'd offer to come along, but you remember what Abbess Loren told us about the last Stoneshell Bearer who tried to teleport two companions." Talyndra shivered violently. "And she told it in that whimsical tone of hers too, like it was a bedtime story. Dorian knows the area. He's the man for the job. And I'd hate to be a... third wheel."

"This is a serious mission, Talyndra. If what we went through at Gla Abbey is anything to go by, I doubt we'll just be able to show up at Tiedavon and ask the first monk we see if we can borrow a cup of Azure Essence. There are going to be complications—dangerous ones."

Talyndra's eyes flashed with excitement, her grin widening. "A thrilling, rousing, dangerous adventure! I'm sure that'll get the blood flowing like nothing else!"

"I asked you a real question, Talyndra."

Talyndra's expression softened and she placed a hand on Emily's shoulder. "Listen, if he tries anything you don't like, give the scoundrel a face full of Stoneshell fire and then use the Bronzeband to drop a pillar upon his fat head." She mimed exaggerated throwing, lifting, and dropping motions with her other hand. "But if he does something you do like... I want to hear the tale."

Emily rolled her eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "Come, let's go find Aria. Maybe she can tell us something about how the Shard of True Reflection is supposed to help turn her human again."

"Wouldn't it be better to ask Althea?"

Emily scoffed. "The last time I asked her for advice she told me to know myself."

Aria was in the chamber she'd picked out for herself, not far from where Emily and Talyndra had been practising. She stood before a stone table, alternating her attention between a thick tome of magical lore and a familiar shard of clear glass. The Shard of True Reflection glinted in the sunlight streaming through a narrow window.

"Emily, Talyndra," Aria said in her usual melodic tones. "How wonderful to see you both. How was practise?"

Emily shrugged. "I still can't teleport into clothing. Or teleport any non-living thing that I'm not directly in contact with. So pretty much a bust, overall. How goes the research?"

Aria smiled sympathetically. "Much the same, I'm afraid. I can find no references to this Shard of True Reflection beyond the one that Althea showed us before. I can tell you with certainty that it is a powerful magical artifact, but I can say nothing else. Well, there is one thing..."

"What's that?" Emily asked.

Aria's stone brow furrowed. "When I look into the Shard, after expanding it like you showed me, I see... nothing."

"What could that mean?"

"It is likely an effect of the curse. I will bring in Brom later to see whether he has a reflection. But I suspect that he will not. It makes a certain sense—Arctulus' magic was intended to turn us from living beings to inanimate statues. Only something living can have a true reflection."

"That's funny," replied Emily, "because you're more alive than a lot of the so-called living beings I can think of."

"Aye," said Talyndra.

"Thank you, girls," Aria replied sadly. "I know you mean well, but you cannot truly know what it is to be as I am. It is a strange sort of half-life, to be trapped in this stone shell. My sensation is dulled and I cannot taste, smell, or feel. I cannot even remove this gown." Here she tapped at the stone of her sleeve, undifferentiated from that of her skin.

"That doesn't sound so bad," said Emily, conscious of the loose monk's robe against her skin. She found herself reluctant to wear anything too dressy or elaborate these days, given its risk of destruction. This very robe would likely soon fall victim to the fires of teleportation.

Aria chuckled musically. "I haven't forgotten the promise I made to you in Castle Elid, Emily. As soon as I am restored, this gown is yours."

"I'll make sure she doesn't burn it," said Talyndra, winking at Emily.

"I do not think I would be sorry to see it go. It is, after all, many centuries out of fashion."

Emily smiled. "Don't be so sure! These things go in cycles, you know. Knowing my luck, the moment it's burned up will be the moment every high lady in Lirethel starts wearing one."

There came a knock at the chamber door. "Come in!" Aria called.

The door opened to reveal a familiar figure in a rumpled tunic. It was Dorian, with a serious look in his eyes. "I'm glad you're all here," he said, skipping straight to business. "I've just gotten word that Althea has fixed a date for the restoration ritual: the summer solstice."

"The ritual has a date now?" Emily asked. "I thought we'd just do it once we had all the ingredients."

"Tracking the positions of the stars and the progress of the seasons has always been an important part of mages' work," Aria said. "For such powerful magic, only a day of great alignment would suffice, and the summer solstice is one of the few. I forget, sometimes, that you do not know these things, Emily."

"When is the solstice, then?" Emily asked, drawing in a sharp breath.

"It'll be a little more than two weeks' time," said Talyndra.

"So we have a deadline," said Dorian. "Emily, let us go at once to Tiedavon Abbey."

Emily gave a small shriek. "But I'm not ready! I have to bring... uh, well, I guess I can't bring anything, but I still have to practise my magic!"

Dorian's face took on a confused cast. "Emily, you are already the most accomplished fire mage I have ever encountered. I am not sure benefit additional days of training would bring, weighed against lost time. Two of the three ingredients are still to be collected."

Emily exchanged a glance with Talyndra, who stifled a mighty giggle. They both knew what Emily's main motivation for attempting to teleport into clothing was, and why she had been working at it so feverishly right before she and Dorian were to teleport to the Azure Coast.

"Dorian is right," Aria said, locking her stone gaze on Emily. "As your magical tutor, I can attest that your skills with the Stoneshell will make you more than a match for whatever may await you at Tiedavon Abbey."

"And I've been to the Azure Coast before, I know the lay of the land," Dorian added. "Not this abbey, specifically, but I've dealt with the people there. They have a strange obsession with the tides."

"I've no doubt that the skills of a spellbreaker will be a great aid to the mission," added Talyndra. "Imagine if we'd had that in Shimmerwood! Dorian coulda dispelled those illusions with a snap of his fingers!"

"The lady exaggerates," Dorian said. "But it is no exaggeration to say that I place the full extent of my skill and knowledge at your disposal, Emily." At this, he bowed slightly.

Emily bit a lip. "And we're sure that this ritual has to happen on the summer solstice?"

Aria nodded gravely. "If Althea has set that date, immense magical power will be needed. Should we miss this opportunity, another may not come for many moons."

"We'd have to wait a whole year!" said Emily.

Aria and Talyndra exchanged glances. "There is no guarantee that the next summer solstice will produce the same favorable conditions," Aria said flatly. "Magic runs on its own schedule."

Emily gasped. "So, if we miss this solstice..."

No one in the room felt up to finishing her sentence.

"Let's go right now then," Emily continued. "Better than to make a spectacle in the courtyard. I hope that's not your favorite tunic, Dorian."

For an instant, Dorian's eyes widened, but he quickly regained composure. He held out an arm, which Emily grasped. It was warm and solid.

Emily closed her eyes, focusing on the Stoneshell's power. Before she could allow herself to back out, she blurted out, "Tiedavon Abbey!"

The Stoneshell's fire roared to life, a blazing inferno that swallowed them whole. Emily felt the familiar heat envelop her, the monk's robe disintegrating in an instant and the scent of scorched fabric mixing with the cool rush of air as the world dissolved. Dorian's grip tightened, his breath sharp against her ear, and then the flames vanished, plunging them into darkness.

The transition was swift—too swift—and when the world reformed, they landed on a surface of hard sandstone, the impact jarring Emily's knees and sending a shock of cold through her bare feet. Behind her, she could hear a fire crackling—the Stoneshell fire of Tiedavon Abbey, a simple bonfire burning near the edge of a cliff.

Emily gasped, the salty tang of the Azure Coast flooding her lungs, sharp and briny, laced with the faint perfume of exotic flowers. A strong, salty wind whipped up, billowing her hair out behind her back and raising goosebumps across her skin, covered by nothing more than a few patches of soot from the teleportation fire.

For a dizzying second, the world tilted. She wasn't just naked; she was exposed on a precipice under a vast, pale sky, the roar of unseen waves echoing from far below. The sandstone beneath her feet felt ancient and worn smooth. The cliff was long and narrow, flat and narrow. On the other side, she could see a sandstone tower. She felt a palpable sense of isolation in this high and lonely place, and the very air seemed suffused with power barely held in check. Not the sweet, brain-fogging scent of Shimmerwood, but something more simple and raw.

Dorian stumbled beside her, his breath hitching as he steadied himself, his own nudity as stark as hers under the open sky. "Bloody hell," he muttered, gasping. "I feel as though my insides have been reordered."

Emily had teleported so much recently that she barely felt the old nausea. Though her attempts to teleport into clothing had come to naught, there was at least that benefit. But she had failed to avert the situation she'd very much wanted to avoid, that of standing naked with Dorian near the edge of a high, windswept cliff.

Their gazes met, and Emily could see Dorian's determination to maintain eye contact. She shared this determination, but he was taller than her by a head, and she couldn't help but take in his strong shoulders and broad chest. Not to mention those abs, and... she refocused on his eyes.

A booming voice from some yards away reminded Emily of her own exposure, prompting her to cover herself. "No magic enters Tiedavon unearned!"

Footsteps trudged across the hard ground, steady and purposeful, as a group of monks approached from a tower on the inland side of the clifftop. Their leader was a towering man, broad-shouldered and clad in an azure robe adorned. His face was weathered and his sharp eyes, gray as storm clouds, fixed on Emily with unyielding authority.



Emily instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. Dorian stepped between her and the monks.

"I am Brother Kastor," said the leader. "The Tidewarden of Tiedavon Abbey. We guard this coast and the sacred Essence that protects it. I judge by your appearances that you have abandoned worldly possessions and seek to be initiated into our sacred order."

Emily opened her mouth, a denial forming, but Brother Kastor continued, "While I commend your commitment to relinquishing mundane possessions, I must ask that you also surrender your magical artifacts until you prove worthy of them."

Emily's hand clamped protectively over the Stoneshell. She was done letting others take her magic. Initiation? Worthiness? The words grated. They didn't have time for monastic rituals. Kastor's sharp gray eyes seemed to bore right through her. The wind felt colder. The two monks flanking Kastor were utterly still, their eyes trained on the ground.

She exchanged a sharp glance with Dorian. He nodded very slightly, subtly shifting his weight in preparation for a fight.

"I'm not giving up anything," said Emily, though she found it difficult to sound intimidating while trying desperately to cover her naked body.

"Then I won't ask again," replied Kastor, his tone hardening.

"Good," Emily replied, trying to sound relieved, even as her heart hammered in her throat.

Kastor gave a curt nod to the two monks flanking him. They moved with disciplined speed, splitting to approach Emily from either side. Their hands were precise—one lunged for the Stoneshell's chain while the other dove low, grabbing for the Bronzeband around her ankle. Crucially, both kept their eyes averted, staring resolutely at the scrubby ground.

Instinct took over. Emily pivoted sharply away from the monk reaching for her necklace. His fingers slid across her collarbone, brushing the side of her breast. He recoiled as if burned, freezing for a critical second, his averted gaze betraying nothing but the sudden flush creeping up his neck.

Her spin also unbalanced the monk grabbing her ankle. He stumbled over a protruding stone, his grip tightening painfully as he fell. His involuntary gasp coincided with his gaze snapping upwards, directly between her legs.

A wave of mortification washed over Emily, hot and fierce, immediately followed by white-hot anger. Opportunity.

With an explosive exhale, she channeled the Stoneshell, producing not a fireball, but a concussive blast of boiling air from her lungs, directed at the monk still frozen beside her. He yelped, scrambling back from the sudden furnace.

Simultaneously, she focused on the Bronzeband. The jagged stone the other monk had tripped over shifted, grinding upwards with unnatural speed and impacting sharply against the inside of his wrist where he still gripped her ankle. A spurt of blood splashed the band. The monk choked out a cry of pain, and his gaze snapped away from her, focusing on his injured hand.

Blood pounding, Emily summoned a low ring of fire around her feet. It flared momentarily around her feet, licking at the hems of the monks' robes as they stumbled back.

"Devil woman!" shouted the injured monk, frantically slapping at a smoldering patch on his robe with his good hand before retreating behind Kastor. "Beautiful... tempting... devil woman!"

The other monk had collapsed into a kneeling position and was muttering frantic prayers, seemingly oblivious. Dorian moved swiftly, not attacking, but firmly gripping the praying monk's shoulders, preventing him from mounting any further attacks on Emily.

Emily took a defiant step towards Kastor, planting a bare foot firmly in his direction. She ignored the goosebumps, the sting of salt spray, and her own mortification to meet his thunderous gaze.

Brother Kastor's scowl deepened as he took in the scene—the panicked monks, one restrained by Dorian, and Emily, naked, defiant, still radiating faint heat. "You are clearly a skilled mage and a cunning warrior, unafraid to use every advantage nature has granted you." He paused, stroking his beard. "Perhaps I should have brought the blind brethren."

A hot blush rose to Emily's cheeks, and it was all she could do to maintain her defiant and open stance. "I'm not here to fight," she said, her voice steadier now. "My companion and I have been sent from Paja Abbey by Abbess Althea, in search of the Azure Essence. We teleported to the Stoneshell fire on this cliff, burning up our clothes in the process. We only need a single vial of the Essence, to break a curse."

Brother Kastor raised an eyebrow. "You are the Stoneshell Bearer."

Emily nodded, conscious of the eyes on her chest.

Kastor's eyes narrowed, flicking to the Stoneshell, then to Dorian, then back to Emily. "The Stoneshell Bearer," he murmured. His gaze sharpened again. "And him? Your... consort? Does he share the Stone's power through... union?"

Emily felt the blush return with a vengeance, Captain Richard's smirking face flashing unwanted in her mind. "No! Definitely not! He's Dorian Blackwood. A spellbreaker. And my friend."

Kastor looked unconvinced. "A young man and woman on a cliffside, both naked. Forgive my skepticism."

Emily hesitated. Letting him think Dorian shared the power was tempting... but the implications... "Maybe I'm lying," she bluffed, forcing confidence. "But are you willing to risk testing that assumption? We just need the Essence. One vial. For Abbess Althea's ritual. It has to happen by the summer solstice, less than two weeks away."

Kastor remained silent, his expression unreadable. Behind him, the injured monk whimpered.

"The Azure Essence is not some common potion," Kastor said finally. "It is the lifeblood of this Abbey, safeguarding our coast. Acquiring it requires initiation into our Order, to complete the Tidal Trials—"

A small fireball zipped past Kastor's head, narrowly missing his ear.

"We're on a deadline," said Emily. "I don't want to be disrespectful, but we really don't have time to be initiated into an order or complete a bunch of trials. We just need the Azure Essence, so that we can do a ritual to lift the curse on the Stoneshell that turned the denizens of Castle Elid to stone. It sounds kinda crazy when I say it like that, but you can ask Abbess Althea, she'll back me up! And the ritual has to happen on the summer solstice."

"Can you not make an exception for the Stoneshell Bearer?" Dorian chimed in, still holding the oblivious monk in check. "She's not doing this for her own benefit, but to restore the lives of dozens of innocents. And she has already faced many trials since taking up the position."

"You wouldn't believe how many of them left me looking just like this," Emily added wryly.

Kastor rubbed the side of his head, as if checking all his hair was still there after the close encounter with the fireball. He glanced at Dorian, still holding the now quiet monk, and then back at Emily, who was losing her nerve with every passing moment.

An interminable length of time passed in silence as Kastor contemplated, occasionally stroking his chin. Emily tried to stand as still as possible. Those around her appeared to be doing their best not to stare too overtly.

Finally, Kastore spoke. "Abbess Althea is a very old friend, and a mage I have great respect for. You, clearly, are the Stoneshell Bearer, the long-awaited heir to Evangeline, with all of her determination." He looked pointedly at the injured monk behind him. "To give out the Essence goes against our every tradition, the founding principles of our order. But these are exception times. Perhaps the Council of Elders will see that. I am prepared to argue your case."

Relief washed through Emily, so potent it almost buckled her knees. "Thank you," she breathed. "And... could we possibly get something to wear?"

Kastor actually chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Indeed. Brother Tavis," he indicated the monk Dorian held, "and Brother Ghor," the one nursing his wrist, "have faced sufficient trials and temptations for one day. Give our guests your robes."

Emily didn't particularly care to be called a temptation—it wasn't as though she was deliberately naked—but she held her tongue.

"I will if he lets me go," came a meek, slightly strangled voice from behind Emily.

Dorian released Tavis, who reluctantly shed his robe and handed it over. Ghor approached Emily cautiously, eyes downcast, holding out his robe with his good hand after squirming out of it. Emily took it gratefully, quickly pulling it over her body.

Seeing Ghor's blood-slick wrist up close pricked up her sense of guilt. "Let me see your hand," she said gently.

The monk, pale and gangly in his wrapped loincloth, hesitated at first, but finally held out his hand after repeated assurances from Emily. She gently held it in her own hands. The cool green flame of healing Stoneshell magic flicked around the bloody wound, cleaning it and knitting together the skin until the monk's wrist was quite whole again. "Sorry about that," Emily said.

Speechless in his astonishment, the monk bowed low to Emily before returning to Kastor's side.

"I did not know the Stoneshell held that power," said Kastor.

Emily managed a small smile. "It's a very powerful artifact. And it has bestowed a mission of great importance upon me. I hope that the Council of Elders will consider that."

"All factors will be duly weighed," Kastor said curtly. "Now come. The Council will shortly convene."

The monks led Emily and Dorian to a round sandstone tower a short distance from the cliff's edge. They entered through a wooden door, so low that Dorian had to stoop to enter it. Immediately past the door began a tightly wound spiral staircase, its steps worn smooth with age and use. The air grew heavy and cool, the resonant hum of the sea echoing within the stone confines. Emily glanced back at Dorian; his expression was guarded, his eyes scanning the worn steps and curved walls.

At the bottom of the staircase was another wooden door, which opened out into a wide courtyard, dotted with squat sandstone buildings carved with intricate wave patterns. Unlike the windswept clifftop, the air here was still, almost unnaturally so. A few other monks hurried past, their faces tight with an anxiety that seemed unrelated to the newcomers. Emily noticed one stop and press his hand to the wall of a building, head bowed, as if listening for something.

Kastor beckoned them towards the largest building, an enormous dome in the center of the courtyard, painted a deep sea blue and decorated all over with wave motifs that seemed to shimmer faintly, even in the flat light. As they approached, Emily felt a peculiar vibration underfoot, a low thrumming dissonance, like a string pulled too tight, almost painful in her teeth. Just as they approached, the heavy wooden door burst open, nearly flattening Ghor who leaped aside. An old man with a wild white beard stumbled out, his eyes wide with panic.

"Kastor!" he wailed. "Disaster! A catastrophe!"

Kastor's face went taut. "What is it, Elder Blevik?"

"The Essence! The Great Azure Sphere... it's gone!"

"Gone?" Kastor echoed, disbelief warring with horror. "Impossible! The wards..."

"Gone! Vanished!" Blevik wrung his hands. "Just moments ago! There was a strange vibration, a discordant sound, like someone abusing a violin... and then it was gone!"

"Show me!" Kastor commanded, pushing past Blevik into the dome.

The other monks followed, their earlier discipline dissolving into anxious haste. Emily and Dorian trailed behind them, stepping into the vast, echoing space.

The space inside the dome was divided up by blue columns, which held up multiple levels of stone walkways, crisscrossing the vast space, all the way up to the curved ceiling. But the building's main attraction appeared to be in its center, where the columns and walkways thinned out to reveal... nothing.

Around this empty center, small groups of old men and women clustered around each other, speaking in hushed tones and looking up every now and then with worried eyes.

"It truly is gone," Kastor said. He had taken no more than a few steps into the dome before stopping, his gaze fixed on an empty spot in the air. Then he hurried forward, to speak to a group in the middle of the room.

The others followed, walking swiftly to the center of the dome. No one seemed to notice or care about the two outsiders.

"What's gone?" asked Dorian.

"The Azure Essence," one of the monks told him in a low voice. Emily leaned in to listen as well. "There was an enormous, spinning blue sphere of it hanging high up, in the middle of the dome. I've never seen it so much as shrink before, let alone disappear. This place is unrecognizable without it."

"This, uh, spinning sphere," asked Emily. "Was it by any chance the only supply of Azure Essence?"

The monk nodded gravely.

Emily's shoulders slumped. "I suppose you won't be able to give us a vial of it then."

"It's far worse than that!" Kastor exclaimed, whirling around, his face ashen. "The Essence powered everything! The protection wards, the coastal defenses, the farming spells! It is the center of our spiritual practise—Tiedavon Abbey was built around the Essence. Without it, we are nothing!"

As if on cue, a deep, groaning rumble resonated from beneath their feet. The sandstone floor trembled violently.

"The dome!" someone screamed. "It's losing integrity!"

Cracks snaked across the floor and shot up the support columns like lightning. Dust rained down. High above, a section of walkway groaned, sagged, then detached with a sickening crunch.

"Everyone out!" Kastor roared. "The Essence powered this very building!"

Screams rang all around Emily as monks and elders dashed around madly. Falling debris sent plumes of choking dust into the air. Emily coughed, her eyes stinging.

To her right, a massive column, already fractured, buckled visibly, leaning precariously towards a frail old woman struggling with a walking stick. With a final, agonizing crack, the top section sheared off and began to slide.

As Emily's fingers brushed the Elder's thin shoulder, she poured her will into the Bronzeband, not to lift, but to disintegrate. The huge chunk of stone didn't just fall – it exploded outwards and upwards in a shower of harmless pebbles and dust.

"Thank you, child!" the Elder gasped, before Brother Ghor appeared, guiding her swiftly towards the exit, motioning for Emily to follow.

The Bronzeband pulsed warmly against Emily's ankle. She had inadvertently used its powers to save the old lady and herself from the falling ceiling. And she could do it again. "Don't worry about me," she said to the monk. "Get the Elders to safety."

She scanned the chaos. Dorian was near the far wall with his arms outstretched over the shoulders of two wizened Elders, hurrying them to safety.

Emily dashed towards another cluster of Elders trapped by a collapsing scaffold. She focused and felt the stone respond to her. She slowed the fall of a massive lintel and shattered a buckling pillar into small chunks before it could crush anyone. It was harder than summoning fire from the Stoneshell, which now came as naturally as breathing, but she was getting better at it.

All the while, more stone was falling. She cleared paths and deflected blows, her world narrowed to the immediate danger, the groan of stressed stone, the terrified cries.

Finally, the space seemed clear. She watched the last Elder she'd helped disappear through the main entrance, then turned to follow.

With a ground-shattering boom, an entire support column, immense and ancient, fell right in front of her, cutting off the direct path to safety. Rubble rained down. There was no time to go around. Scrambling over the newly formed barrier of broken stone, rocks skittering around her, Emily felt a sharp tug. Her borrowed robe was snagged fast on a jagged piece of debris.



Annoyed, she yanked, then tried lifting the trapping rock with the Bronzeband, but her focus wavered as another deafening rumble echoed from above. Dust choked her. She looked up.

An entire section of the upper walkway, dozens of feet long, thick as a bridge, had detached and was grinding its way down, mere yards above her head. Slow, inevitable, unstoppable.

Too big. Too heavy. Even the Bronzeband couldn't shatter that much mass, not instantly. And she couldn't move while trapped.

Her eyes found the exit. Dorian stood there, having just shoved a monk to safety. Their eyes locked, and then his widened with horror as he looked up at the descending slab. He took a step forward, preparing to dash back in.

No. He wouldn't make it. They would both be crushed.

"Stay back!" Emily screamed, pouring every ounce of remaining will into the Bronzeband, trying to slow the inevitable collapse. She didn't have enough power. It wouldn't hold.

The walkway fell another foot, and Dorian sprang forward.

She had to get out.

"Tiedavon Abbey," Emily whispered to the Stoneshell.

She was engulfed instantly, hearing a distant crash as everything turned to darkness.

Light returned, and it was blinding sunlight, and she was alive. Salt spray hit her face. Wind tore at her bare skin. A sheer cliff face rushed past her eyes.

Her hands flailed, scrabbling for purchase. Her fingertips brushed stone, then caught it. She jammed them in, pouring the Bronzeband's power into her grip, feeling the rock yield to her will. The falling stopped.

Emily was hanging on by her fingers to an outcropping of stone on a seaside cliff, swinging violently. Water surged up from below, drenching her back, trying to tear her loose. But she clung on, gasping, her fingers screaming. She was alive.

She was also dangling halfway down a cliff face, jagged rocks and churning sea below, naked, exhausted, and drenched. But she had not been crushed under a falling dome.

She thought back to the duel on the pirate ship and summoned Stoneshell fire to the soles of her feet, willing a blast of enough power to fly her up to the top of the cliff. But the fire sputtered out, leaving only a faint warmth under her feet. Teleporting halfway across the world and then immediately getting into a fight before teleporting again had greatly taxed her firepower. She had never worn the Stoneshell's magic this low before.

Emily gritted her teeth. She had used more magic in the past day than ever before, even in her most trying practice sessions, on days when Aria was feeling particularly ruthless. But she still had some left. She would just need to ration it carefully. Her ankle tingled as she coaxed two platform out of the cliffside for her feet to stand on, giving relief to her strained fingers.

With her weight now transferred to her feet, Emily allowed herself an infinitesimal sliver of relaxation. Her sore fingers relaxed, but still held loosely to the indentations in the rock, and she pressed the front of her body up against the cliff. The stone felt rough against her skin, prodding and nicking her all over.



Emily looked up, squinting in the light of the strong noonday sun. The top of the cliff was just visible, and between it and her was a long expanse of craggy rock. She spied many ledges and imperfections that could make holds for her feet and hands, though most of them would require reshaping with the Bronzeband.

The sum total of Emily's previous rock-climbing experience was a dimly remembered excursion during a childhood camp. On that occasion, the route had been marked out, and she'd worn a harness attached to the end of a strong rope. She'd also been fully clothed.

This time, there was none of that, but she had a magical anklet that allowed her to manipulate stone. That would have to be advantage enough.

Once she had rested enough, Emily reached out for the next hold with her left hand. It was just far enough that she had to strain, her right foot going up on tiptoes. As her fingers curled on the stone, she deepened her grip with the Bronzeband's power.

Next came her right foot. She remembered a camp counsellor telling her to move diagonally across the wall. Once her right foot was securely on a higher platform, toes pressing against the rockface, she released her left and stood up, reaching for a higher hold with her right hand and gripping firm, natural stone.

In this manner, Emily continued up the cliffside, moving slowly and carefully, making footholds and handholds for herself. When she felt tired, she would pull a wider ledge out of the rock to stand on and let her arms hang limp.

The sun beat down on her, sweat stung her eyes and dripped down her body, making the rock slick beneath her bare skin. Each move was deliberate, carefully calculated to move her up without placing her in a dangerous position, or requiring too much of the Bronzeband's power.

She was higher now, and the sea spray was less frequent, which made the sun feel hotter. The more she could rely on natural rock, the less she would need to use her limited energy on summoning holds, and so as she went higher she challenged herself with holds that were further and further apart. Her confidence grew even as fatigue gnawed at her muscles.

"Just a little... got it!" Emily said, celebrating as the toes of her left foot pressed into a hold she'd first thought would be too far to reach. She brought her left hand up to a new hold that this extended position now allowed her to reach. A soft breeze tickled her inner thighs.

As she was considering her next move, Emily hear a low whistle from somewhere below her, followed by a familiar voice. "So we meet again, my dear Emily. My, my, what a sight you are. Such flexibility!"

A million thoughts passed through Emily's mind, and it was all she could do to keep herself on the rockface. Risking a downward glance, she spied a roguish smile on the bearded face of none other than Captain Richard. He stood with his violin tucked under one arm, on one of the larger ledges she'd pulled from the rock. He was directly beneath her, looking straight up at the point between her wide-spread legs.

Emily blushed furiously, trying to recall the position of the next foothold, but too surprised by Richard's sudden appearance to move. Where was that nightmoss leotard when a girl needed it? Try as she might, she had never been able to recreate it since that first teleportation. At present, she could not even so much as feel the nightmoss's fibrous presence between her skin and the Bronzeband.



"I see you're putting my Bronzeband to creative use," he said. "Good of you to keep it warm for me. We might have done great things together, you know. Perhaps we still can. I do like what I see, in case you're wondering."

Emily was briefly tempted to let go of the rocks and plunge to her doom.

"Let me cut to the chase, dearest. You have something I dearly want back, and I have something you sorely need. Something blue. Azure, even."

Emily's blood ran cold. Had Richard stolen the Azure Essence? How could he have managed it?

"No need to speak, darling, the question is all over your pretty little face. And yes, I am looking at your face." Richard tapped his violin. "In the absence of my Bronzeband, I have had to learn new skills. Luckily I'm a quick study. And Tiedavon Abbey is a fine place to study resonance and harmonies."

Emily noticed belatedly that Richard had on a blue robe quite similar to the one she'd briefly worn.

"I was always planning to take the Essence, ever since I laid eyes on it. And when the monks told me about the history of the fire that burns atop this cliff, I had a feeling I would see you again. So imagine my delight when, while in the midst of my morning cliffside stroll, I overheard your arrival and conversation with Kastor. That was when I put my plan into motion."

With a flourish, Captain Richard produced a thin glass vial from the sleeve of his azure robe. The deep blue liquid shimmered in the sunlight. "A pity about the dome," he continued. "But in many ways, you might say that the monks were responsible for their own downfall. These things can happen when you take in a wild man who washes up on your shore with naught to his name but an old violin, no questions asked. When you tutor him in the ways of resonance magic, celebrate his every victory, give him every honor, and make him much more powerful than you could ever be."

Disgust and fury welled up within Emily. Not only was Richard a thief, but he had betrayed the monks of Tiedavon after they'd done so much for him.

"I had hoped that I would be able to recover the Bronzeband from the rubble, but with all that shouting about the teleporting naked fire mage, I realized I might find you here instead, near your fire."

A gob of spit narrowly missed Richard's nose. "I see you haven't learned any manners since our last encounter," he said, side-stepping and almost losing his balance on the small ledge, though he quickly recovered. "But I suppose that should have been obvious from your choice of dress. Or undress, rather. I should have never challenged such a brazen whore to a strip duel."

A second gob of spit caught Richard in the eye.

"I won't demand the Bronzeband from you right this moment," Richard continued, rubbing his eye with a fist, but otherwise nonchalant. "You seem to be in great need of it. But I may change my mind if you don't stop doing that."

Emily wasn't sure how much longer he expected her to hang on to the cliff in her very compromising position. He was clearly savoring the moment.

"Before you say it, yes, I know you won it fair and square in our little duel. That's why I proposed a trade. The Bronzeband, for a vial of Azure Essence. A barrel, if you'd like. Enough to bathe in. You do seem to like bathing, or at least, you're always dressed for it."

Emily muttered something inaudible.

"Meet me for the handover on top of this cliff at sunset tomorrow," Richard continued. "This isn't going to be another duel, merely a trade. No tricks," he added, raising his violin slightly. "Before you get any funny ideas about cheating me, be advised that I've learned some new tricks."

Richard drew the bow across the strings, making three brief, discordant notes, and then beginning to play in earnest. From Emily's limited vantage point, she watched tendrils of purple light rise from the instrument's strings, swaying to the music. The tendrils wrapped around Richard, and he became fainter, translucent, his visage blending with the rocks. As he became more and more indistinct, the music grew softer, and soon Emily was left alone once more on the cliffside, listening to the wind and the waves.

Her legs were beginning to ache. Grunting with effort, Emily pulled her right foot off its hold and brought it to stand on a platform much nearer to her left. She felt like her legs could use a good rub, but did not dare to remove her hands from their holds. Her thighs trembled and her arms ached, but the end was in sight.

A few careful, broad, and close holds later, Emily's left hand gripped the surface of the clifftop. With a final burst of strength, she brought her right leg up to a new hold, and then collapsed forward, half-falling, half-rolling into a sprawled heap on the cliff's edge.

Tufts of grass tickled her stomach, and she luxuriated in the feeling of laying down, of having such a great expanse of horizontal ground below her. She felt she might lay there forever.



Through half-lidded eyes, she surveyed the extinguished remains of the Stoneshell bonfire. Her teleportation must have brought her to its last embers, just as they were blowing off the cliff. Perhaps the removal of the Azure Sphere ended whatever magical protection had kept the fire burning in the open air. She shuddered to think how close she must have been to having her teleportation fail.

Behind the fire, another shape came into focus—the swiftly moving body of a man. "Emily! Emily! Is that you? Are you alright?!"

The man was Dorian, and he was sprinting towards her. Then he had her by the arms, had his hands on her back, raised her up, pulled her back from the edge of the cliff, pulled her into a hug. "I knew you'd make it," he said, burying his face in her tangled chestnut hair.

"What... what happened at the dome?" Emily croaked, her throat almost too dry to sound the words. "After I left. Did... did everyone make it out?"

Dorian pulled back slightly, though his hands remained firmly on her shoulders, his eyes searching hers. He nodded, relief still etched on his face but now mixed with grimness. "They all got clear just before the main roof came down. They thought you didn't make it. I told them you'd teleported, that you had to have." He shook his head, bitterness creeping into his tone. "I tried to come find you straight away, but they wouldn't let me leave the Abbey grounds. They were suspicious."

"Suspicious? Of what?"

"Of us. Kastor argued with them, told them you're the Stoneshell Bearer, but the elders shouted him down. As far as the Council was concerned, the appearance of two outsiders wielding powerful magic right at the moment of the Azure Essence's disappearance and the dome's collapse was too much of a coincidence. I tried to calm them down, throw in a few local words and references to make it clear that I've spent some time here on the Azure Coast, but it was of no use."

"That's insane!" Emily protested, pushing herself up to full height, though she winced at the scrapes and bruises she'd suffered from the cliff face. "We'd only just arrived! How could we possibly have caused any of it? How could they think that after we risked our own lives to rescue them?"

"They said we were working with someone else. Or something else. That we were part of a ritual to steal the Essence. There were all sorts of wild theories. Ghor and Tavis weren't any help—they kept going on about your magic, greatly exaggerating what happened when they tried to take your artifacts. The Elders all seemed very offended that you refused initiation and the Tidal Trials."

Anger flared in Emily's chest. "The ungrateful wretches! All this, after I saved their lives!" A small part of her wondered if Richard may not have been so bad to take their Azure Essence, if this was the way they treated others.

"They believe we endangered them in the first place," Dorian said darkly. "They wanted to keep me there for questioning, but I had to find you."

Emily gasped. "How did you get away?"

Dorian smiled slyly. "They couldn't start the interrogation right away, with all the chaos of the dome collapse. Other buildings were also falling all around the abbey, and there were more rescue missions to mount. I offered my assistance, but they spurned it, casting a restraint ward on my cloak and leaving me in a corner. But there was one thing they forgot, or maybe didn't know in the first place."

The hug released, and Emily stepped back from Dorian's arms. She had felt his skin against hers, and now saw it was because his robe had been reduced to a wrapped loincloth.

"The blue dye in these robes is a pretty potent spellbreaking ingredient," Dorian said. "It's no Azure Essence, but it's strong enough to break a restraint ward, provided you know how to catalyze it. Unfortunately," he added, looking down at the robe's sorry remains, "spellbreaking doesn't usually leave its ingredients intact."

They looked at each other for a moment, the silence stretching, filled only by the wind and the distant crash of waves. Emily felt a flush creep up her neck.

Dorian hastily reached for the knot of his loincloth. "Right. Sorry. You should have this."

"No," Emily said quickly, placing a hand on his forearm to stop him. "Don't. You might need the dye again later." She could hardly believe what she was saying, but she had to be practical. She was already wearing two powerful magical artifacts, and couldn't deprive Dorian of something that, honestly, he would put to better use than she could.

"But you're..." Dorian gestured vaguely, looking uncomfortable.

"Naked?" Emily finished. "In case you hadn't noticed, Dorian, this happens to me pretty often. At least in Thessolan." She forced a small, tired smile. "Right now, we have bigger problems than finding clothes." She glanced towards the afternoon sun. "It was Captain Richard who stole the Azure Essence. And he wants to trade."

"The pirate captain you won the Bronzeband off?" Dorian asked. "He's here?"

Emily nodded gravely. "He confronted me as I was climbing the cliff."

Dorian's eyes widened, and he took a few cautious steps toward the edge. "Is he still down there?"

"No, he... teleported away. He has a magic violin. I think it's the same one he had on the ship, though I didn't know it was magic then."

"How can he play the violin if he doesn't have hands anymore?"

Feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, Emily cleared her throat. "I... may have not told you everything about what happened on the pirate ship."

Dorian raised an eyebrow, though Emily avoided his gaze. Telling Dorian this closely guarded secret, this hidden source of shame, made her feel the exposure of her body before his eyes all the more keenly. "Before Richard left the ship, he came to my room. Well, it had been his room, I suppose. He looked so pathetic, still naked after our duel, and with mere stumps on the end of his arms. He wanted the Bronzeband back, so that he would be able to row a lifeboat away. I knew I couldn't give it to him, but when he held his poor stumps to light I just... well..."

Dorian made the connection. "You used the Stoneshell's healing powers on them. Just like you healed Ghor's wrist. But... moreso."

Emily bit her lip. "As soon as he put that bow to the violin string, I knew it had been a mistake."

"It's certainly complicated matters." Dorian frowned. "But it's done now. You said he wants to trade. I take it he still longs to reclaim the Bronzeband."

"Yes. The Bronzeband for the Azure Essence. He said to meet him here, at sunset tomorrow."

Dorian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "He can't be trusted."

"Of course not. He tried to cheat me once before. And I don't know that him having the Bronzeband again would be a good thing. He would just use it to steal and hurt people."

Dorian eyed her ankle. "You've grown attached to it."

"Of course!" Emily exclaimed. "It frustrated me at first, but I think I've gotten quite good at it now. And without it, we'd both be dead."

Dorian nodded. "We'll meet him here tomorrow, like he asked," he said, speaking somewhat louder than was strictly necessary. Then, softer, he said to Emily, "But first, you need some rest."

"Where can we go?" Emily asked. She glanced at the sandstone tower that led down to the Abbey, but knew they could not return there after what Dorian had told her. What was more, she had no great desire to enter one of Tiedavon Abbey's buildings again.

"After I escaped from the monks, I didn't come straight up here," Dorian explained. "I had to go the long way round, scouting around the base of the cliffs, looking for other ways up. While I was climbing up here, I took a wrong turn and hit upon a small secluded cove by the sea. It'll make a great hiding place. There's even a trickle of fresh water there, seeping from the rocks."

"How do we get down?" Emily asked.

"The path is a lot less vertical than the way you came up," Dorian assured her. He led her a short distance along the clifftop to where a narrow fissure angled down the rock face, offering a series of rough steps and handholds. "We might need the Bronzeband's help in a few spots, but it's manageable."

[FinchAgent]

The descent was taxing on Emily's exhausted body, but far less terrifying than her ascent. Dorian went first, testing holds, often placing a steadying hand on her freckled shoulder. Where necessary, Emily used the Bronzeband to stabilize loose scree or widen a narrow foothold. Finally, their bare feet sank into cool, damp sand.

The cove was exactly as Dorian described: a crescent of pale sand nestled between high, dark cliffs, the rhythmic crash of waves the only sound besides the cries of distant gulls. A thin ribbon of water cascaded down one rock face, pooling briefly before disappearing into the sand.

"We can rest here," said Dorian, guiding Emily to the water with his hand on the small of her back. "Once you've rested, we'll discuss how to prepare for Richard and his trade. I'll prepare some spellbreaks for resonant and melodic magic."

A deep sense of calm washed over Emily. She crouched before the freshwater seep, cupping her hands to drink deeply, the cool water soothing her parched throat. Dorian stayed close, his eyes scanning the cliff rim above and the open sea before them.

As Emily straightened, wiping water from her mouth, a sleek shape broke the surface of the turquoise water just beyond the shore.

"Who goes there!" shouted Dorian. "Identify yourself!"

Whoever it was continued swimming towards them, heedless of the menace in Dorian's tone. Emily readied a small fireball in her palm.

A powerful green tail splashed up to the water's edge, and the torso of a man rose from it. The merman had golden hair and icy blue eyes. His body bore fresh scars, but he was still instantly recognizable.

"Caelum!" Emily exclaimed, rushing to the water's edge. "I can't believe it."

Caelum's blue eyes glinted with pleasure and a genuine smile crossed his face. "It is good to see you again, Emily Stoneshell Bearer."



Though Emily's first instinct was to cover her body, it seemed absurd before Caelum, who had never seen her wear more than a couple of goldapple leaves. As far as he and his culture were concerned, the Stoneshell necklace was clothing enough for its bearer.

"I saw you climbing the cliff earlier, but you were too far up to hear my calls," Caelum said. "I did not think we would meet again."

Dorian stepped closer to Emily, his arm brushing against her shoulder. She looked up at him, telling him with her eyes that the merman was a friend. "This is Dorian," she said to Caelum. "He's a spellbreaker. And Dorian, this is Caelum. He's a merman."

"So I see," replied Dorian. He held out his hand for Caelum to shake.

"Well met," said Caelum, taking the proferred hand. They shook solemnly, each sizing up the other.

Caelum's eyes seemed to have more lines than the last time Emily had seen him. "Before I saw you on the cliff today, I did not know whether you still lived," he said to Emily, taking one of her hands in his. "I broke free from Trilato's guards not long after we were separated, but by the time I returned to the spot, the ship was long gone. I searched for it day and night, but to no avail. Eventually, I had to return to my own affairs."

"I'm very touched that you spent so long looking for me," Emily replied warmly. "Especially after I was the cause of your falling out with King Trilato."

Caelum waved a hand dismissively. "We would have clashed sooner or later. I desire a much grander destiny than to be the stooge of a small-minded despot."

"And what might that be?" Dorian asked, an edge in his tone.

"It is my greatest wish to unify my people and bring them to glory."

"Just like Thurseus Irontail."

Caelum smiled at the comparison before turning back to Emily. "You have educated this man well, Emily. I cannot overstate how heartening it is to see you again, proudly bearing King Irontail's greatest work between your comely breasts."

Emily blushed crimson, remembering Aria's words about the kinds of compliments merfolk considered polite.

"What brings you here, Caelum?" asked Dorian, clearly eager to change the subject.

"Trilato's forces have driven me far from my Aquius, forcing me to seek allies in other mer kingdoms. I am on my way to the Kingdom of Nauticus, a few leagues south of here, as I have heard Queen Nera is sympathetic to my cause. I was following the strong currents of warm water near this shore when I heard a great commotion from the land and stopped to investigate. It was then that I spied Emily."

"You must have heard the dome falling," said Emily. "An evil pirate—the same one who captained the ship that caught me in its net—has stolen the Azure Sphere, a powerful source of magic for the abbey here. Without it, their wards are failing and their buildings are collapsing."

Caleum made a noise of disapproval. "That would explain the sudden change in the current. Before, it carried me effortlessly toward Nauticus, but now it is erratic and ever-changing, and the once-warm water has cooled. The hospitality of these waters surprised me. It would seem that this was not their natural state."

"He wants to trade the Azure Sphere to us for the return of the Bronzeband"—here Emily pointed to her anklet—"an artifact I won from him in a duel."

"Ah, I thought you appeared more clothed than before," Caelum said, bringing a shy smile to Emily's lips. "Will you make the trade?"

"Pirates aren't to be trusted," Dorian said. "We're to meet him for the handover on the cliffs at sunset tomorrow, but we'll come prepared."

"I fully expect him to double-cross us," said Emily. "It wouldn't be the first time."

A pained expression passed across Caelum's face. "I wish that I could offer my services. But dry land is no place for me, and this meeting place is too high even for the greatest waves to crest." He glanced up hopelessly at the cliffs high above.

"I think we'll manage," Dorian said, attempting to sound reassuring. "Emily is a powerful sorceress, and I have a few tricks up my... well, not my sleeves, right now. But I know some counters to musical spells."

"I will ask the gods of the ocean to see to your good fortune."

There was a lull in the conversation, during which Emily failed to prevent herself from releasing a giant yawn.

"Emily needs to rest before then," Dorian said, pointedly addressing Caelum. "She's had an exhausting day."

"Of course," Caelum replied. "I must see to hunting, as I grow peckish. But I will remain in shallow waters. If you have need of me, shout, and I will come at once."

"Thank you," said Emily, smiling wearily. Though Caelum would be of no aid to them against Richard, just knowing he was alive and free released her mind from a great burden, one she'd been carrying since they parted.

"Until we meet again." Caelum bowed slightly, kissing Emily's hand. Then, with a curt nod to Dorian, he turned tail and splashed away.

Once he was out of sight, the full weight of Emily's fatigue finally caught up to her, and she found herself stumbling and struggling to keep her eyes open.

Dorian placed a gentle hand on her back and led her to a shaded spot beneath the cliff, where the sand was soft and only a little warm. "Sleep now," he said. "I will keep watch."

Emily let herself drop onto her side on the soft sand, curling her body up tight. The rhythmic sigh of the waves was a soft lullaby, lulling her as she closed her eyes. She was more tired than she remembered ever being before and welcomed the oblivion of a deep, dreamless sleep.

In no time at all, she was woken by a gentle nudge on her shoulder. She groaned, blinking open her eyes to see Dorian's face, framed by a sun that dipped low on the horizon. "Wake up," he said. "I've made you some tea."

Emily nodded, though still half-asleep. She stretched and brushed sand from her arms, her mind still adjusting to her strange reality, just as it had every time she'd woken up in this world. Emily was not in her bed at home, or in her pajamas. She was on a secluded beach on the Azure Coast, in Thessolan, and she was entirely naked, but for two pieces of magical jewelry and an inexplicable elastic hair-tie.

She felt better. A dull ache lingered in her forearms from the strain of climbing, but she felt stronger and more clear-minded. She could tell, through their unconscious, indescribable bond, that the Stoneshell's fire was greatly replenished.

To her left, a campfire crackled merrily, and Dorian held a slightly misshapen stone cup for her. "Remember the handhold that came loose while we were coming down here? I thought it would make a good cup."

Emily gave a small laugh as she accepted the cup. The tea was warm and smelled faintly of mint. She took a tentative sip and felt its warmth spread through her. "This is really good," she said. "I'm glad I picked you for this quest. Aria would never think to make tea, and that wood elf stuff Talyndra brews is awful."

Dorian made a retching face at the thought of wood elf tea, and they both laughed.

Emily glanced at the fire, then touched the Stoneshell. "How did you make that?"

"Not all of us need a magic necklace to start a fire," Dorian replied.

"Oh. Yeah." Emily blushed, then took another sip from the cup, watching the sea waves break on the sand.



"He seemed quite concerned about you," Dorian said eventually, his tone carefully neutral as he stared out at the water. "The merman. Caelum."

Emily glanced at him. Was that curiosity in his voice, or something else? "He has been a great friend to me," she said. "He helped me escape from Aquius after his king tried to steal the Stoneshell."

"Aquius," Dorian repeated thoughtfully. "What was it like? I've never heard of a surface-dweller going there before, apart from the ones in the legends."

"It was beautiful. And strange," Emily said. "Like nowhere I've ever seen before or since. Even after with all the strangeness of this world, it stands out."

"How were you able to breathe?"

Emily tapped the Stoneshell.

Dorian's gaze flickered down to the Stoneshell, nestled between Emily's breasts, then quickly back to her face. "Ah, of course. Irontail's betrothal gift was not only a symbol of love between sea and land, but a practical instrument for its realization. It allowed Evangeline to come to him."

The Stoneshell had been a source of protection for Emily, and increasingly a source of power. But it was also a symbol of love. The love of a particular man for a particular woman. Dwelling on that made the necklace feel different, added a new kind of weight.

"I've gathered some spellbreaking ingredients," Dorian said, motioning to a small pile of beach detritus at his side—seashells, seaweed, a few oddly-shaped sticks, another misshapen stone cup filled with sand, and a few small strips of blue fabric torn from his robe. "None of this stuff would do anything on its own, but I went back up to the cliff while you were sleeping and arranged some stones and branches in leyline-disrupting patterns. It won't look out of the ordinary to anyone not well-versed in spellbreaking."

Emily nodded appreciatively. Dorian had explained the general principles of spellbreaking to her a few times, but she found it very complicated and counter-intuitive. Every time she thought she understood how one part of it worked, Dorian would gently correct her, until she gave up entirely on ever understanding it. She knew it worked though—after all, Dorian had once used it against her.

The lower rim of the sun now rested directly on the water, casting a shimmering path across its surface. "What do we do now?" Emily asked. She finished her tea and set the makeshift stone cup down in the sand beside her.

Dorian followed her gaze to the spectacular sunset. "Now? We wait. Richard said sunset tomorrow, did he not? That gives us time." He got up and poked at the small campfire, adding a few pieces of driftwood he must have gathered while she slept. Sparks danced upwards into the rapidly darkening sky. "It gives my preparations time to settle into the leylines," he added, glancing back towards the cliffs. "And it gives you more time to recover your strength. You pushed yourself hard today."

The day's events flashed through Emily's mind, bringing attention to the deep aches in her muscles.

"We should eat," Dorian said. "I managed to find something while you were asleep." He gestured towards a cluster of flat rocks near the fire. On them lay several large, cooked shellfish steaming gently, alongside a handful of roasted tubers that smelled earthy and sweet. "Not exactly a feast, but edible. The shellfish were trapped in a tide pool, and the tubers grow wild just above the high tide line."

Emily's stomach rumbled in response. "That looks amazing, Dorian. Thank you."

They settled by the fire, pulling the hot shells apart with their fingers, and digging out the tender meat. They ate the tubers like baked potatoes, splitting the charred skins to get at the soft insides. It was simple food, but after the day's ordeal, it tasted incredible. They ate mostly in comfortable silence, listening to the fire's crackle and the rhythm of the waves.

Darkness fell over the beach and stars slowly populated the darkening sky. The night skies of Thessolan, free from the light pollution Emily had grown up with, still occasionally caused her to catch her breath in wonder. The air grew cooler, raising goosebumps on Emily's bare arms. She huddled closer to the fire's warmth.

"Dorian," she began hesitantly, fidgeting with the stone cup. "While you were out foraging... did you happen to find anything... you know?" She gestured vaguely at her own body. "To wear?"

Dorian looked up from poking the fire with a stick, his cheeks illuminated by the flames. He seemed surprised by the question, then slightly flustered. "Ah. Wear. Right." He cleared his throat. "Actually... no. I didn't. I was mostly focused on the spellbreaking components, setting the counter-measures on the cliff, and keeping an eye out." He avoided her gaze, suddenly finding the fire intensely interesting. "And making sure no one from the Abbey came looking for us. Priorities, you know."

Emily couldn't help a small smile. It was strangely endearing, his practical focus completely overriding the rather obvious social awkwardness of their situation. "Right. Priorities. Spellbreaking first, clothing optional."

"Well, yes," he said, looking back at her, seemingly missing her wry tone. "I don't have much experience with resonance magic, or anything else Richard can do with that violin. I needed every bit of time to prepare what I could." He frowned. "Even with the preparations, stopping him won't be easy if he means to fight."

"Maybe it won't come to that," Emily said, trying to sound more sure of herself than she really was. She looked down at the band on her ankle, glinting slightly in the firelight. "If he's serious about making a trade, well... we do need the Azure Essence."

Dorian stopped poking the fire, his expression becoming serious, attentive.

"I know he doesn't deserve it back. He's... awful. And dangerous. Giving him that power again feels wrong, so wrong." Her hand instinctively went to the Stoneshell over her heart. "But Aria and the other statues... they've waited centuries. This might be their only chance. If we fight Richard and lose, or even if we just fail to get the Essence from him... the curse stays. Is keeping the Bronzeband worth that risk?"

Dorian remained silent for a long moment, studying her face in the firelight. "And what happens after?" he asked quietly. "After Richard has the Bronzeband back? He won't just sail off peacefully into the sunset, Emily. Saving Aria is paramount, yes. But unleashing a re-empowered Captain Richard... that carries its own cost, doesn't it? Don't you have enough powerful and dangerous enemies already?"

Emily didn't have an answer. She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring into the flames. Dorian was right, of course. But the image of Aria, eternally stone, haunted her.

There was something else about the Bronzeband that made her hesitate to give it up, and that was the mysterious nightmoss, which seemed to be somehow linked to it. It was a source of immense magical power from the Deep Realm that she could not understand, much less control, but that had come to her aid in impossible situations. Would abandoning the Bronzeband mean abandoning the nightmoss?



She remembered wanting to ask Abbess Loren about the nightmoss, back at Gla Abbey. Why hadn't she? For that matter, why hadn't she asked Abbess Althea about it, or Aria? For some reason, Emily was unable to hold a thought about the nightmoss in her mind for more than a few minutes at a time.

Dorian stood up, stretching. "We don't have to decide right now. We have until sunset tomorrow." He banked the fire carefully, leaving a few glowing embers, and gestured towards the soft patch of sand where Emily had slept before. "Get some more sleep. A clear head will help." He walked a few paces away, closer to the freshwater seep, and cleared another patch of sand for himself.

Emily lay down on the sand, still faintly warm from the day's sun. She looked up at the vast sweep of stars, so much more brilliant than any she'd ever seen back home. The Near Moon was full tonight, and the Far Moon a waning crescent. Closing her eyes, she listened to the waves, the distant cry of a night bird, and the soft sounds of Dorian settling down nearby.

[student]

TWO chapters. What a treat. Thank you.

[WingDing]

A well written epic.
Your image style seems to have changed. I was rather attached to the previous look.