Chapter 8: Raiment of Change
“What will be your legacy? Will it be sung by bards in courts throughout the land, or will it be reviled as a curse by surly commoners who've no concept of who you were?
Maybe it will not be spoken of at all. Maybe you will be the subtle influence, felt and not known. That is a decision you must make. But whatever you decide, you need only look back to find me there. Smiling and waving; Like the rest of the world, wondering where you will go next.”
-Isira
Letters From the Gods Volume 1
Leslie's heart slammed against her ribs as she was lead by the hand through the doors into the sphinx's chambers. A wash of yellow and white light swept over her from a sky light that punctuated the cave's roof, a lattice of stone and glass gave way to the naked sky. The yellow tinted glass made the room seem warm compared to the rest of the cave, but it was the wood paneled walls and carpeting that made the place feel lived in; human.
The entire dwelling was sloped like a dome with the skylight carved in such a way that no shadows could find purchase. The room was furnished sparsely; a case built into the wall displayed a dizzying array of steel trinkets, a shelf with some books and a pile of ribbons at its crown, and, much to Leslie's chagrin, a square display case with a suit of armor in the center of the room. Behind it was a large circular bed right under the shaft of sunlight.
Suspended by wire, the armor looked as airy and mysterious as the goddess Herself; it was cut from leather and accented with silk and muslin that dared observers to find where materials began and ended or how it was even meant to be worn. Flowing sheer white fabric melded smoothly into a sky blue bodice patterned with waves that-- if Leslie strained to look-- hid where it was designed to flex and bend. All this decor and regalia only to flair out uproariously at the waist in a twisting melody of sheer fabric Leslie had never seen before and couldn’t quite understand.
Aee caught her staring and flashed her a bright smile, erasing the distance between them with a chuff of a laugh. He brushed against her leg and took his place between the two women-- a quick glance at his guest showed off a particularly smug grin. “I've never seen such a piece before or since, you can't even feel the magic tied to it!”
“N- There's magic in it?” Leslie asked dubiously as she mentally reached out for the fabric. Her mind pieced it together in a three dimensional pattern of airy clouds bound around one another like fingers interlacing into an endless cascade of tumbling sky. One could get lost in its pattern and never truly find where to begin or end. . .
Aee was looking at her oddly.
“Sorry, uh, it's pretty.”
“A pale imitation of your beauty, to any with eyes to see.”
Leslie glanced at Isira who rolled Her eyes with a cheesy smile. She sauntered over to the bed and turned, holding her hand out for Leslie to join Her. They watched one another for several seconds with Aee's gaze lingering on her halfway between lust and awe. Leslie opened and closed her hands taking a deep breath as a sensual tune began to fill the room with a coy mix of inviting melody and sultry undercurrent that made every part of the older seamstress prickle with uncertainty.
She carefully edged towards the bed, not entirely sure what she was going to do when she got there. Isira made the choice easy; She sprang from the bed and twirled Leslie into another round of dancing as the music swelled. It was insane how smoothly Isira’s voluptuous curves could move; from one step to the next She lead so gracefully that even Aee’s movements seemed mechanical by comparison. For her part in it, Leslie tried her best to keep up and anticipate what would be expected of her, but every other step Isira made a new demand, invited her to a new move or lead her through a series that eased her closer to the bed without her being aware of it.
But there was a moment where Leslie regained her senses, stopping mid stride with her foot stretched forward-- before her Aee was lowered with his body lowered and face downcast, eyes up turned in the same display of submission he had used with Isira. Leslie eyed the timeless creature, momentarily lost in where she was, the power she found herself holding over something-- someone-- as old as the gods themselves. . .
Was this what it meant to be thought of as a goddess? Was this what Isira saw when people submitted themselves to her? It wasn't just those eyes watching her, though, it was the thought that someone-- anyone-- cared about her. Maybe it was the fact that these divine creatures, these immortals took interest in her that kept her off balance, but for some reason that didn't bother her any more. Isira was warm and kind, she'd made it clear that there wasn't going to be anything they wouldn't do together-- She'd never put Her follower down, She'd never get angry with her. She'd never ignore her for 'just one more' throw of the dice or another drink. . .
Leslie leaned forward daring to touch Aee's head with her trembling hand and felt his warmth. Yes, this was what it was to be truly alive. Her body didn't ache, she didn't have anything to worry about and-- and there was nothing but the three of them and life. She wasn't aimless any more, she wasn't meaningless any more. She deserved to be happy.
Isira touched her back gently. Power flowed through every movement the goddess made; forgotten secrets opened themselves under Her fingertips when She trailed them across Leslie's pallor skin. The sacred writ was a language known to none but Leslie's body, it knew the language well and responded in the only way it knew how; she drew in a deep breath and knelt down in front of the sphinx. She had all the permission she needed to act as she saw fit. . .
She was in charge. Even in Isira's eyes, she was perpetual-- she could choose to be anything she wanted. Leslie smiled at the thought, guiding her finger down Aee's sharp features, trailing a line down to his chin where she held his attention for a moment. “You know. . . If things were a little different, I'd. . . .I don't know. I could enjoy it here.”
“Mrrr?”
Leslie dampened her lips. “You know, I don't know why She chose me but I think I know what it is we were meant to do. . .”
“This isn't like you,” He said softly. “Something wrong?”
“Not necessarily.” Leslie sat down in front of him and invited him to rest his chin in her lap. When he did he turned his head up to look at her. His eyes were warm and inviting, calm and familiar. They shared that second with an infinite number of possibilities laid before them and the limitless potential that could have made them lovers, enemies, allies or leaders of some global reform.
All of this flashed through Leslie's mind in an instant and she clutched him tightly as Isira laid Her hands down across her shoulders. She had choices, she had power. She wasn't just a paladin, she was a human being, a thinking mind and an open heart. . . She laughed as the tears welled up in her eyes. “I always thought it'd be a blinding flash of light or something. You know?”
“Hm?”
“Nothing-- I. . .” Leslie sighed. “I've never been happier, and that scares the hell out of me.”
“Why?” The two immortals asked at once.
“I'm scared someone's going to take it away from me again. . . Or I'm going to take it from someone else.”
Isira nuzzled against her cheek, kissed her ear. “Never. Not intentionally, you won't.”
“But-- but.” She looked to Aee. “But why do we need the gods to make us happy, huh? Do we? I mean, if Elisandra came to you right now, would you be any happier than you are now?”
“Sometimes,” he said simply. “The wrapping isn't what makes the gift.” Slowly he turned his head to nuzzle into her thigh, watching her out of the corner of his vision. “Maybe you're asking yourself the wrong questions, maybe you need another perspective.”
“But that's boring!” Isira chuckled playfully. “Sometimes the gift is looking you right in the face, sometimes it doesn't even have a face.” She planted Her lips to Leslie's throat once more causing the older woman to sigh out.
Maybe She was right.
Yes, that sounded right. The gift she'd been given was still being built,
it came moment by moment with every choice she made and while she didn't know what final form it would take, she was starting to see how things were shaping up. . .
She smiled to herself, brushing Aee's hair back with her nails. The future was bright with Isira beside her, but it was blinding when she was in control of it. “Is that offer still available?”
“Mrrr? Which one?” Aee sat up a little, curious and attentive.
“You promised to answer any question I had--”
He groaned. “The recipe? Of all things, you would ask me for--”
“No. No, I thought it over. I know what I want now. . .” There was no hesitation in her voice this time. No doubt or fear. This was right. “Ready? Okay, I want you to tell me what the answer to that riddle is. The one you asked me.”
“Well, if you insist. The answer is E.” He said in a flippant tone as he sat fully upright.
When nothing immediately happened Leslie tried to keep herself calm. Could she have screwed up somehow? Was the magic in it maligned? Had she somehow failed to make it work? “E? As in the letter?”
“Yes! Think of it: it was around for eternity, it's always in queen, never in kings and spelling joker, you'll get it there too!”
“E.”
“E!”
Leslie tensed, but then she remembered what Isira had said earlier. “So your name is E?”
“Close!”
Isira giggled in her ear, uproariously tittering at Her paladin's failure. Of course She knew there were other ways of getting the word from his lips, but the idea. . . .Leslie blushed and glanced away. It wasn't exactly unappealing, but something about it seemed vulgar-- the idea of a mortal and a divine creature. . .
“Wait, so. . .” She leaned in so they were almost nose to nose. His eyes never left hers even as she shamelessly drank in his visage. She used her best sultry purr, reaching for his chin. “What voice should I be moaning in your ear, hm?”
He shivered. “Tempting vixen though you are, your words will only take you so far--”
Leslie kissed him. Deeply and without reservation. He drew back and she pushed forward, further and further. He started to arch back to keep from falling flat and still she pushed until she was practically crawling over him. His massive paw touched her shoulder to halt her but there was no stopping a determined paladin; Leslie knew what was expected of her and she reveled in it.
She broke the kiss panting humid air into his sensitive ears. “Tell me. . . Tell me what name I want falling from my lips.” As an after thought, she murmured. “Please?”
Aee chuffed a hot breath of his own drunken with the lust building inside and slurred by the forbidden fruit offered to him. He nuzzled against her cheek. “My name-- my name is Aee.”
“Aee.” Leslie cooed.
“Aee--. . .” She felt the magic swell around. Within. The bright, fluffy mire of dizzying power soaked into the clothing Aee wore pulled his consciousness in, slowly and deliberately pulling his mind in to its hazy folds as sleep gradually begin to overtake the immortal sphinx. He looked at her.
And he smiled. A wry, knowing grin. “Clever girl. . .”
Leslie wrapped her arms around him to brace his landing while the sleep finally dragged him into unconsciousness. He lay still except for his breathing, which was slow and rhythmic. For a moment she didn't think to get up, but stayed at his side for a few moments, running her hand through his hair and enjoying the closeness of his warm fur.
This poor creature had been there forever, possibly before that, and the first person to enter his life-- however unwillingly-- had tricked him. Leslie stroked his face. “We're not so different, huh?” She said to Isira. “I mean, I loved David but I loved him for what I thought he was and not what he actually was.”
When Isira didn't reply she continued. “Maybe in another world, another time, we could've been something more. But that's past tense, huh? That's done. . .”
Leslie stood up, already swearing she'd leave the sleeping creature a note or something. When she turned to where Isira had been, expecting to see her patron smiling, she only saw emptiness. Confused, she looked around to find herself alone save for Aee.
She must have been waiting outside or in the casino itself. Odd, so close to the prize She'd just disappear, but maybe Leslie had taken enough of Her time as it was. Leslie stripped the bed of its comforter and laid it across Aee's sleeping form, tucking it in with a soft smile. “Sleep well. . .”
The magic wouldn't last forever if she'd understood it's nature correctly, she could already feel it unraveling and it wouldn't be long before Aee would awake groggy and hopefully not vengeful. The last thing she needed was an immortal out to kill her.
As she approached the display case she opened her and extra senses at the same time, as easily as if she'd reached out to touch it, she could feel the weak but compact nature of the glass's internal structure standing unperturbed by her presence. It was the tight weave of good silk combined with the nature of glass itself but for its practical value it was completely mundane. “If you're still with me, I hope the warranty you took out on my body covers fingers, too.” Leslie wiggled her fingers and touched the case.
Nothing happened.
She reached out with both hands and briefly considered pushing it over. Instead she slipped into her new senses and felt around the 'weave' of the material's weak points. She found a tiny dent in the thinnest part of the case where the nature of glass's weave was loose enough she could wiggle a finger into between the strands and, with some work, unravel a couple strands and unbind them-- the rest of it came unraveled even easier. When she was done she had a space big enough that she could have crawled in.
The armor's distinct sense was divine. Unquestionably powerful, but off somehow. It didn't feel like anything Isira would have made, it had no trace of Her power. It felt cool, compassionate and ready for a fight. Beyond the physical protection it offered the magic itself was bound to protect and attack. This was armor built for war.
By a different god.
Leslie blinked. Isira had lied to her. . .
She'd come too far to turn back, she'd already committed herself, she couldn't just let it go-- No. It was too late to question herself. She reached for the armor and was promptly blown off her feet to crash spectacularly into the bookcase near the door, splashing into the abyss of unconsciousness.
#
Leslie awoke some time later amongst a bunch of books and splintered wood with a crushing headache biting into the back of her skull. Reaching for what was surely going to be one hell of a knot she noticed she was clad in a new dress with a considerable amount of frill and lace. All practical but extravigantly beautiful with its quasi-leather bodice and lacey chest and modest knee length skirt. The high heel boots only capped off the strange mix of fashion. The armor in the case was gone.
Surely she wasn't wearing it.
But the feeling was there. Everything about her person said Elisandra's touch was pressed to her skin as surely as Isira's was to her soul. Painfully she rose and nearly faceplanted when she tried to take a step on the heels. She flailed on her way down to her knees but when she slammed into the stone she barely felt it. The cloth under her knees had taken the impact; as strong as steel, as smooth as silk.
Leslie got to her feet once more and stumbled, half tripped and nearly went end over end as she made her way into the main chamber. The thought of lower heels morphed the boot around the bottom of her foot to accommodate her 'request' allowing her an easier step.
Hesitantly she made her way past the dangling magic objects, past the odd vehicle and the archaic, indecipherable billboards and up the arching steps to the casino's high stakes area. She poked her head through the veil of darkness to find it empty. Instant relief swept through her-- she snatched a drink of cherry water from the bar and crept up the spiral stairs to the main pit.
Dragon (S)Layers: The Paladin Gambit Page 12
