Page 29 of Vines of the Underworld

I nod, snuggling in the fluffy towel, but my busy mind struggles with the word “half.”

The seeds of doubt are already sprouting in my mind. Why is the Underworld such a taboo? And why not unite forces with the most powerful sorcerer and at least try to liberate their whole world? What if the key to saving their home is somewhere there, among the vines that reach down to the magical core?

Tarcyll – The Spymaster

I have always been a sucker for female charms. I’m known for it at the golden court of Verdant. The pleasures were always shared, the ladies desiring me equally in my man and beast form. My favorite pastime was frolicking with nymphs and dryads in the perennial forests or savoring the exquisite charms of the Elven and Fae ladies in waiting of the king, sharing some of the willing ones with His Majesty himself. Yet I have never sought out a female again after receiving satisfaction. I have never craved her presence or hungered for her after the deed was done. Until now.

Is it the magic inside Celeste that hums to the beast inside me? Is it the throbbing, hypnotic pulse of the Crystal Serpent pulling me toward her, or is it her otherness, her human nature?

Since being inside Celeste for the first time, I find it hard to focus on something else. My other form threatens to come out, ravish her, force himself upon her, consume her. It’s getting harder to hold the beast back. I’m grateful for Diaphonus´ presence, not only for the mouth-watering sight of her being taken by the beautiful priest but also for his soothing nature. He senses when the beast starts distorting the constraints of my body and calms it with a spell.

With each release, I’m getting stronger. Diaphonus is getting mightier, too; a strange afterglow lingers in his gaze for hours after. An unsettling one. Is it hunger? Or greed? Something tells me that I need to be alert, and I follow him like the shadow I am, never leaving him alone with Celeste.

I should have known that the blissful Idyll we’ve lived in the last few days was doomed. I am a spy, a blade lurking in the shadows, an assassin whose survival depends on his gut feeling.

Yet my instincts were too busy getting high on her scent, seeing her break in my arms when I fuck her, drinking on the gentle magic she spills around her when she climaxes.

The disaster comes shortly just a few days after my arrival. Me and the priest watch helplessly how Celeste struggles to breathe, her delicate face distorted by panic and pain. I have never felt so helpless in my life.

She has mentioned her odd sickness before but never appeared ill to me. When her crisis strikes, the priest and I watch her terrified. The high elf shakes his head, explaining it is a sickness of the mind caused by anxiety and stress, and he can’t do much.

The woman explains that there s medicine for it in her realm; she just needs to buy it at a pharmacy. She adds that she is missing her sick mother and cat, which probably triggered the panic attack.

The priest and I exchange looks. The decision is quick. We will portal to her world and move away quickly.

Surely our arrival will draw the attention of the Dreadful One, so we have to be prepared.

Traveling between realms is easy now. The elf’s magic is fully restored, he announces, and all the chunks of his powers he has spent battling the Siphons and defending his home are replenished. I am relieved. He is the mightiest mage of Faëheim, second only to the Dark Prince, and the best ally to have.

Celeste suggests a spot close to her work, stating that the place is crowded in the day, and the chances of the Dreadful One risking an open attack are slim.

A simple in-and-out operation, she calls it.

Diaphonus opens the gate, and we step out into a narrow side alley littered with trash and discarded boxes. The smell of the human realm hits me like a fist. One week in the priest’s hideout, and I have almost forgotten the reek of garbage, the toxic vapors of their machinery, the odor of their otherness.

We leave the back street hastily, and Celeste leads us to the subway. The escalator takes us deep into the bowels of the city. It’s the fastest and safest route, she declares.

I cannot look away from her enticing lips as she explains that this is her daily route to work when her boss summons her to her working place. The late afternoon commute is full on, and we let Celeste lead the way to the train that will take us to her house. She navigates through the crowd, and we do our best to keep up. We reach the platform when the train halts and get carried away by the stream of people disembarking. Celeste goes to the last cart and gestures for us to get in. The crowd thins, almost everyone who wanted on is already aboard, and we hop on the train from the second to last door. Celeste moves as if to follow us, heading to the last entry, but hesitates. I rush toward the platform to drag her in, yet too late. The doors close in my face with a hiss, and the train accelerates.

My last glimpse of her is disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel behind, and I curse loudly while Diaphonus demands that someone stops the train.

Celeste – The Anchor

T ormenting flashbacks of how I almost died on these tracks invade my mind, but I focus on the task ahead.

“Cyrell!” my voice echoes into the tunnel, red light glowing like evil eyes. Squinting my eyes, I stare into the blackness ahead, trying to make out the tall frame of a certain white-haired dark elf and his metallic companion.

I do not debate if this is a good idea. My sanity has withdrawn to a quiet corner since this whole mess began. Or is this my messed-up sense of fighting injustice again?

I know that something is eluding me, that the charming duo who did everything they could to please and keep me happy in the last days is withholding information.

And I happen to know someone who might help me uncover it.

A chill runs down my spine when I take a hesitant step into the darkness, remembering the phantom who got me nearly drowned.

A couple of weeks ago, my biggest problem was an aggressive customer or Sandra’s request to work from the office.

Now I’m compromising my safety to uncover some—most likely imaginary—secret that could help me save a world I’m not even sure exists.

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