The universe expanded and expended itself. The last shred of life, microscopic and yet so monumental in that it alone had outlived the rest, was finally claimed by death. And for a moment, all was still. All motion ceased. The universe gave a dying gasp and all at once collapsed suddenly, violently, instantly inwards. To the center, where it had all begun so many eons ago. Into nothingness, absolute.
A thought was all there was. Alone in that vast nothingness a mind yet more vast dreamed fluidly in the timeless void. The endless dream paused for a time, and the original mind drew itself to waking. The old universe had worn itself out and the Creator set about building a new one from the dream It had just awoken from. The endless cycle was rewound and begun anew; the same pieces, the same ultimate outcomes, but endlessly different stories with each retelling.
The way Lycaon was acting seemed....off, somehow. He sat beside her, their feet dipped into the cool water of the little tide pool, his arm wrapped comfortably around her waist, her hand absentmindedly brushing out the curls in his short hair. That was it. It was the bag. That was what was bothering her.
"Hey, 'Caon, where's the one I made you?"
Lycaon's face flushed beet red under the thin scruff of hair that never fully retracted under his skin. "I, uh, ahem, I misplaced it."
"Wha--? Misplaced it where? Lycaon, I worked my damn ass off making that thing for you, ya best not've lost it."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm sure it'll show up......sooner or later..."
A coy tone crept into her voice. "You didn't gift it to a secret sweet-heart, did ya?"
"No, no! Of course not!" Lycaon leaned back a little, so he could look her straight in the eye. "You, Phelan, you are the only lass for me," he whispered.
"Ah, yes, I'm the only lady for you, but who's to say you don't have a secret not lady you've been seeing?" She said slyly, eyes down cast and looking up at him through long lashes. "For sure you didn't get so sweet without practice."
"Only you," Lycaon assured her again, smiling at her obvious flirtations. They were clumsy, but damn, if they weren't the biggest turn on coming from her. Especially when she was normally so gruff and blunt. "Only you."
"Damn straight, only me," Phelan said, demeanor switching back to her natural forwardness. She jostled him a bit with her shoulder. "I ain't gonna be having my husband lolly gogglin' at nobody else."
"H-husband?" He asked, slightly taken aback. "I mean, the idea's crossed my mind many times, but are you ready for that?"
Phelan thought for a moment. She nodded firmly, matter-of-factly. "I wouldn't be flirting and leading you on if I weren't serious. Not right now!" she added quickly. "Just.... as a thought, as the possible end goal to all this. I don't wanna lead ya on or nothin'. That'd just be deplorable."
"But....in a year or two?"
"Yeah."
"I...I think I like that plan." He leaned in. "May I kiss you?"
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The walk back to his cave was more like a dance. A light, fluttery feeling lingered in his chest, one he couldn't remember having before. A genuine, giddy smile lit up his face.
The satchel was yanked from his shoulder. Lycaon turned around, panicking. There Agondrae stood, claws tearing into the delicately tooled leather. Sniffing it with a downright perverted grin. "Oh ho ho, you're getting serious with her. Be a real shame if she were to.... disappear."
The giddy feeling, the dopey smile, that intoxicating infatuation were gone. Nothing but sinking dread was left.
"My mistress' menagerie is lacking in several specimens. It's been fun, chasing you, but I can always find another toy. An Earth Child is harder to come by."
His steps faltered.
"What's an Earth Child?"
"A creature. And know it or not, one of those new little friends of yours is one. So, I have a deal for you. Bring me that one, and I'll release you. You'll be free, able to live happily ever after with that sweetheart of yours."
He could still hear the ripping as that beautiful bag was shredded before his eyes. The downright evil look when the draeken offered a deal.
"Or she'll end up like this trinket. She made it for your birthday, didn't she? How cute." Agondrae threw the scraps of leather at his feet. "So, feel like making that deal?"
Lycaon was suddenly, violently sick. It passed after a few moments, and he wiped his mouth, hands shaking. He took a second to rest, then steeled his nerve. The cluster of stunted pines that hid the cavernous opening was in view.
"I am getting nowhere," Sab Sab said, slinging herself bodily into the chair, the wood and leather creaking in protest. "We've been going over everything. All the notes. All the information on everything. I don't know what to do next."
Rhosa stared pointedly at her muddied feet and the tracks the morpher had left on the floor. "I know what you can do next. Clean up your mess."
"Well," Yvonne came down the stairs, braiding back her hair. "Didn't you say that Agondrae showed up at the same time the princess disappeared?"
"Yeeeeeees----?"
"Have you been focusing at all on finding him?" the cougar asked, a sharpness creeping into her tone. "It's not like he literally just tried to kill Myrn and send Phelan over into Faerie."
"Faerie. That's--- Oh my goodness, Faerie!" Sab Sab bolted up from the chair. "That would explain why none of the tracking spells worked! Thank you, Yvvy you're a genius!" She aggressively smooshed Yvonne's cheeks with a sloppy kiss and ran out the door.
"Unbelievable," Yvonne muttered, rubbing the wetness from her face. She snatched the wet rag from Rhosa. "No, I'll clean it up. Sorry."
"What are you sorry for? She's the one being rude."
"No, I'm sorry we're being such a load on you. We never should have come, it's..."
"Nah, nah, I'm glad for the company. My house is a bit crowded now, but it's been empty for so long that... Nah, I am honestly thankful." Rhosa scooted up onto the chair the morpher had just vacated. It, like everything in the house, was just a little too tall for her.
"Well, thank you. For everything," Yvonne said between scrubbing and scooting to the next muddy print. "By the way, I... I'm very close to a carpenter, and have learned the basics. If you'd like me to try modifying some things?"
"Modify?" Rhosa perked up. "Could you... shrink down my chairs and table?"
“I could... cut off a bit from the legs..... not quite shrink, but sure."
"Yes. Yes! When can you start?"
Yvonne grinned enormously as she stood up, the last muddy foot print cleaned. "About as soon as I can get a saw."
This world is young, and the magic of creation still flows fresh and strong through its core.
The Creator sleeps now, but Their slumber's start is still in living memory, at least for the eldest of the fae and dragons. The goddesses are settled down and exhausted by their efforts, soon to join the Creator in Their eternal dreams, but legend says they may yet be awakened should the need arise.
The Reapers, the Messengers, the Guardians and the Scribes are within reach, should a mortal be desperate or foolish enough to summon one. There's even stories that fleshed Angels still roam about the unsettled lands from time to time.
This world has yet to see ten thousand years, the night sky is sparse of stars, and anything is possible.
"Jason! Come on, it's not that cold!" Myrn cajoled from waist-deep in the gently ebbing surf.
"No, I'm good," Jason gave a languid little wave and stretched out on the pebbly sand. "I can see you shivering and chattering from here, you can't fool me." He smugly wiggled a crevice for himself in the soft ground.
Soaking wet and making squelching sounds with each step, Phelan slunk over and flopped down beside him, showering him with sand and pebbles from the impact. She moaned her malcontentment into the ground. Jason blinked open one judgmental eye. "Phe, jumping into the water was your own dang fault, take your complaints elsewhere please. I'm taking a nap."
"A cat nap?" Myrn came sloshing over to flop onto the sand at his other side. Just to make that stupid joke.
"Shush, you."
"Any nap he takes is technically a cat nap. It's a quality of being a cat."
"True, true."
Jason growled, squinching his eyes shut. "I am trying to enjoy the fleeting sunlight. Go frolic with the fishies and leave me alone." The air was crushed from his lungs by bony elbows digging into his stomach. "Myrn, get off. I am not your pillow."
"Yeah, Myrn, not yours. Mine. My pillow." The werewolf was much, much heavier. He could feel his ribs creak when she flopped down across his chest. Jason wished he had never said anything; then maybe they would have left him alone. He was stuck under the soggy, obnoxious quasi-siblings, and they were not moving. The elf started fake snoring and Phelan followed suit soon after. No. No, that was real snoring. Shit.
"Yvonne. Yvoooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnne~" Jason called out as his biological sister walked past with a small net in hand. She refused to look directly at him but he saw the grin cracking as she quickly turned her head away. "YVONNE!"
"Hmmm?" Yvonne's mouth was set in a stoic line. He glared daggers at her.
"Help?"
"You want help!?" Yvonne clapped her hands to her face in an overly dramatic display. "Oh, of course dear brother!" She catapulted across the pebbly sand.
"No! No, no, Yvvy no---" what little air remained whooshed out as Yvonne flung herself over top of the other two nuisances. There was a collective groan and Myrn and Phelan painfully crawled out from under her limbs. Yvonne started purring and rolled up, pulling Jason to his feet.
"That better?"
Jason rubbed his bruises. "You didn't have to burn the house down to kill the mice," he hissed.
"And yet the mice are gone."
"No, the mice are not gone," Myrn snickered. He yanked the net from Yvonne's hands and skittered off. Phelan took off after him, giggling. "We'll catch something! Probably! Hopefully!?"
"Catch their death of cold," Jason growled, picking sand from his now damp clothes. Yvonne elbowed him sharply. "Excuse you, but I did not come here to be harassed!" the elder of the cats snarled, elbowing her back harder. "And when they catch their death of cold like complete morons, I will not speak nicely at the funeral."
"I bring a peace offering." The elf stood at the door to her room, holding out a small basket filled with peppers. She could have smelled the capsaicin radiating off them a mile away.
"I need your help."
Juubilee shook herself. Surely she heard that wrong. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" She asked with a high pitched note of disbelief.
"I said I need your help. With magic. If you're willing?"
"You said you dont use---"
"Things have changed. I-I--uh-- I opened a door I can't close. Inside. Inside my head. If that makes sense?"
That made perfect sense. She'd done that herself. When she was a stupid kid and earned the nickname "Shed-bane" and never lived it down. But if he was a mage, he should have already dealt with this before.
"Didnt you go to school? I mean, come on, you're from Efelda too. They taught everyone with powers how to keep it reined in."
"I.....No. Nobody outside my family knew I...."
"Why not? What the heck, ya'll were paranoid or something---?"
"I don't want to talk about that."
"...Well, then I won't help."
"......Okay." Myrn set the basket down and turned away. Juubilee watched him walk off, sure he was going to turn around. But no. Apparently he really wasn't willing to get her help if it meant telling her anything. Uggh, fine.
"Wait!"
Myrn paused, turning back from the bottom of the stairs. "I ain't telling ya."
"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just one question then--- are you a legend?"
The elf hesitated a second, then nodded. He pointed at her, raising an eyebrow. She tipped her head in confirmation and picked up her peppers, holding the door open for him to follow.
“I hardly know what I’m doin’ myself, but...I can try an’ tell ya what I know.”
