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Chapter Text

Blythe, the Black Witch of the Southern Isles, was feared and shunned by many thanks to rumors of her affiliation with the Dark Brother and her affinity for the blackest magics, as well as her purported search for immortality, which the Light Orthodoxy declared heresy for all life created by the Life Brother must in time be snuffed out by the Dark Brother.

The fact that so many of the upper orthodoxy had found ways to extend their own lifetimes and were secretly searching for their own ways to live forever, and the Light Brother turning a blind eye to it ("So long as they don't ask me to extend their lives or bring anyone back, whatever.") only highlighted the hypocrisy in the gods and those who served them.

Blythe saw no reason to support such a two-faced religion and their deities and further demonstrated her heresy by altering her own Brothers-created human body. She'd always liked cats anyway.

And as to her allegiance with the Dark Brother...preposterous. He only ended things and unleashed horrors that his brother did nothing to stop, leaving it to mortals to deal with. She wanted to STOP endings, and felt a study of the divine dichotomy - which she was growing more and more convinced was a false dichotomy at that - would grant her that knowledge. The 'Black' part came from her color scheme. Black goes with everything after all.

She ruled over her small island chain, having inherited some of it from her late parents (Damn the Dark Brother for his accursed plagues) and claimed or conquered the rest. Her subjects she left mostly to themselves, but was never short of willing volunteers for her work. Most of them had lost far too much to the plague as well, after all, and never wanted to suffer its like again. Even if it did mean getting a bit beastly.

Her constant companion was the gold dragon Fanglon, whom she had created to be her slave, her lover, and her bodyguard, a superior replacement to her previous attempt that resulted in a monstrous minotaur she'd been forced to trap in a labyrinth beneath her castle until Fanglon went down and killed him.

In hindsight, she should have realized she wasn't that into males sooner.

She eventually found herself not the only own growing dissatisfied with the Divine Fraternity and sought out her expertise, but was surprised when such esteemed individuals as the second-born daughter of the Jedais house and the heir apparent of the Roses both expressed interest in her work, since both families were thought to be blessed by the Light Brother, especially the Roses. She became friends with them very swiftly, with Fanglon and the Rose heir forming a pseudo-sibling relationship. It started feeling like her goal might be in reach.

And then Salem came to her island, telling her tale and requesting aid in the impending war. After hearing Salem's story and how cruelly she was rejected and toyed with by the gods, she immediately agreed her aid in exchange for some of her blood, in hopes it might be the missing piece she needed to complete her work. After all, the gods could probably wipe out the planet if they wished...but would it be so easy if the whole world were immortal?

Alas, it was not to be. Time ran out and the battle began before she could complete her research. She was forced to fight with what she had and hope it would be enough.

It wasn't.

Despairing that it had all been for nothing and cursing Salem and the rest of the world for not waiting just a little longer, she used her last breath to strengthen her bond to Fanglon in hopes that they would find each other again in every lifetime and, perhaps, fulfill her ambitions.

And that one of the many, many contingencies and failsafes she'd created beforehand would take effect, and make sure that humanity - as well as her own, more beastly kin - might one day walk the world once again.

Designs:

Blythe is about the same height as her reincarnation, Blake. Dusky skin. Flowing thick curly waist-length black hair. Amber slitted cat's eyes. Tattoo of the royal crest of the Southern Isles over the left side of her face. Small but sharp fangs. Wears a very form-hugging black dress emphasizing her rear and breasts. VERY low-cut, down to navel, with stitching across the cleavage window. Lots and lots of runes sewn into top. Skirt made of treated leather and fur and covered in chains, pouches, pockets, compartments, feathers, charms, gems, and runes. Several extremely thick books chained to waist, and while most assume they're spellbooks the majority of them are actually incredibly filthy smut; all her real spellbooks are kept in her library at home and she can read any of them using a single deceptively small book linked to the whole collection. (Like a magic Kindle, sorta)

Floor-length black cloak with furry mantle, edges trail into shadow, and cat eyes can occasionally be seen glistening in the interior. Claw-like nails. Barefoot with claw-like nails. Cat tail. Several rings, including her signet ring and a special gold and amethyst one used to command Fanglon which might as well be a wedding ring. Enchanted bracers granting her superhuman strength. Black witch hat with holes for her ears, charms dangling from brim. Wears three necklaces; one a severely mangled holy icon to denote her embracing the title of heretic, one which belonged to her mother, and one indicating her as a member of the Four Colors, the black segment highlighted. Also has an ever-blooming silver rose on her hat to denote her loyalty to the House of Rose, whom she seeks to elevate to the throne of godhood once the Brothers have been deposed, believing them the only ones worthy. "One who sees themselves as above humans should not endeavor to rule them."

Fanglon is at least a head taller than her mistress. Gorgeous, ridiculously busty, voluptuous, and well-muscled body covered in gleaming golden scales. Refuses to wear clothes, claiming she's too hot (as in too sexy, and also her body temperature) to need them. Blythe is completely onboard with this. Every scale has the royal crest of the Southern Isles etched into it to indicate Blythe owns every single part of her. Spikes growing from her shoulders, knees, and elbows. Can manifest gauntlets of burning golden magma over her firsts. Long tail ending in gold thagomizer. Doesn't have wings, so flies by firing jets from her hands and feet. (Yes, she could manifest wings of fire but thinks this is cooler.) Reptilian face with sharp fangs and eyes which shift between purple and red depending on her mood. Purple pearl set into collar with Blythe's emblem, which also turns red when she's really mad. Antler-like horns. Magnificent floor-length mane like living fire, which can burn when she wants it to. Ever-blooming silver roses bloom on her horns. Gold shackles on wrists and ankles. Nipple rings. Pointy ears with earrings, one of which is proof of membership of the Four Colors, the yellow segment highlighted.

Can also assume the form of a golden eastern dragon, but usually remains humanoid unless she needs to provide transport or when fighting a really big monster or army and doesn't have to worry about burning others with friendly fire.

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Eis was second-born to the noble lineage of Jedais, loyal vassals to the Frozen Throne of the Auroral Empire in the north. Since her elder sister Sharna, Mistress of the Northern Lights, was heir and thus had to prepare to take over the province, Eis was free to spend more time studying and practicing with her spellblade. She had a relatively happy childhood and was beloved by her subjects and servants, especially the seven dwarf brothers. The only real flaw in her life was that her mother was dying.

Her father, the Lord Consort, had turned out to be a cad who sought to marry into the noble line and steal the secrets of the Winter Constellations for himself. While he had been found out and executed for his treason, they discovered too late he'd inflicted his wife with a deadly curse which was turning her own magic against her, slowly turning her into ice which would melt to nothing.

There was no known cure. The Frozen Throne, who had long been friends and more with her mother, tried to cure her and even brought in healers and great mages from outside the Empire, even reaching out to the Black Witch of the Southern Isles. They even reached out to the Light Brother, but he fed them some BS about how it was 'her time' and he could not intervene, and the Orthodoxy took that to mean it would be blasphemous to keep trying to heal her and not only stopped trying but strongly implied everyone else should as well.

In her heart, Eis lost all faith in the gods at this.

The Black Witch "accidentally" forgot a few books when she left. While once Eis would have burned them, now she read them eagerly. In their pages she found a solution, but it would mean venturing into forbidden lands where the Grimm and other beasts dwelled.

Sharna could not come because she needed to be ready to take her mother's seat, and because she was too public a figure. Eis would have to go herself, but couldn't take any of her housecarls with her because the forbidden lands were, well, forbidden. Fortunately, one of the Black Witch's book was a detailed history of the Order of the Holy Rose, a group of paladins blessed by the Light Brother. While Eis had assumed they were dogmatic followers of his, she was surprised to discover that they had broken ties with the Orthodoxy long ago and did not consider the Light Brother to be their patron or lord any longer, and for whatever reason he did not or could not rescind his blessings. Desperate, she sent a message begging for aid.

She was outraged when they only sent one knight, a girl younger than her, and her homunculus squire/slave/lover/toy/best friend/weapon, feeling like she wasn't being taken seriously.

She would soon learn the error of her ways when the knight, heir to the Rose Throne and world's greatest warrior, and her companion saved her mother...and won her heart.

Design:

Eis is shorter than her lovers, much to her consternation, so she wears 'lady stilts' to look taller...and it still doesn't work. She also doesn't have nearly as big a chest as either of them, which she's also irritated about.

Like the rest of her family and most of the Aurorus Empire, Eis is a snow fey, particularly an elf with ice dragon ancestry. Skin as white as snow with very pale blue scales on her cheeks, hands, and other parts of her body. Hair a slightly lighter shade in a floor-length ponytail bound in rings of ice resembling frozen starbursts. Ice tiara with the Northern Lights seemingly contained within and a pair of icy horns curving over the top of her head. Ever-blooming silver rose set into side of hair. Ice-blue slitted eyes with eyeshadow and lipstick to match. Small sharp fangs. Snowflake mark over left eye. Pointy ears, with a snowflake earring hanging from right ear and the earring on her other side is her proof of her membership of the Four Colors, with the white segment highlighted. White and blue kimono depicting the snowy grounds of the family palace with the Northern Lights shimmering overhead in a draconic shape. Numerous rings of ice on her fingers with magical ice crystals as well as one resembling a flower stem with a ruby rose and a ceramic one with a green jewel resembling the command seal of a homunculus. White dragon tail emerging from the back of her kimono. Has wings, but they're absolutely tiny and she hides them out of embarrassment even though her wives think they're soooo cute.

High heels resembling glass slippers, but made of ice. Choker with family crest on it. Ice necklace with a frozen starburst containing a fragment of the Northern Lights. She's cool to the touch, but when she's really upset or angry can become cold enough to freeze on contact.

Has a sword hilt in her obi that she can use as a base to generate a blade made of ice, usually a katana, but she's versatile enough - thanks to the young Rose heir - to manifest different kinds of swords as needed. Has a tiny book tucked away inside her dress that is linked to the family library, allowing her to call up any spell from it, as well as write messages home. It only works for her and turns to snow and reappears in her hand if it's stolen and attempted to be read by anyone else.

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The Order of the Holy Rose started out as paladins in service to the God of Light, blessed with incredible power and skill. As these things always go, though, eventually the Orthodoxy started trying to use them as their personal attack dogs to serve their interests and slaughter 'heretics' who conveniently enough stood in the way of their political aims or happened to live on top of land and resources they coveted. The Grandmaster caught on pretty quick and went over their heads to the God of Light, who, predictably, did nothing, basically saying, "They may speak for me but I don't speak to them unless they come all the way up here to see me. This is your mess, settle it yourselves."

Faith destroyed, the Grandmaster severed all ties with the Orthodoxy and the Light Brother, and they would have been deemed heretics and hunted down by their successors except for one problem: they STILL had their blessings and holy powers, even though they no longer prayed to or believed in the God of Light, meaning they by definition couldn't be heretics since their god clearly hadn't forsaken them (or more likely couldn't be bothered) and any attempt to paint them as such would have people asking rather pointed questions of the higher-ups.

The Order went on to carve out a country of their own, and thanks to their powers and blessings it quickly became one of the most prosperous and safest in all the world, so much so quite a lot of people emigrated to live there, further pissing off the Orthodoxy and its affiliated nations. Eventually less clever heads took power and tried to declare holy war - or other nations tried to invade, seeking the riches for themselves - and were so thoroughly bested only fools would dare to try again.

The world, sadly, is always full of fools, and many nations - and the Orthodoxy on more than one occasion - bankrupted themselves trying to conquer the Roses before finally giving up or, more often, being overthrown.

While it was common for especially powerful mages to live very long lives in this age, the paladins and those in their charge seemed to stop aging altogether after a certain point, even if they weren't especially talented sorcerers. There was much debate in the outside world if the Roses were really immortal or they just trained up replacements to inherit their armor or title, though the fact the Grandmaster seemed to be aware of customs, traditions, and even the personal lives of the ancestors of those she met when called to foreign courts and international conferences seemed to point to the former.

And then, shockingly, the Grandmaster had a child, Briar, driving all the oracles crazy because they foresaw she'd not only be her mother's successor but her SUPERIOR.

Indeed, Briar was extraordinarily gifted, though she also worked and trained very hard to keep her skills sharp so as not to fall into the trap so many sorcerers did of overrelying on their magic. She was beloved by all, not simply because of her position, but because she was just a kind, thoughtful, caring individual who loved them all. It was little surprise she wound up with multiple suitors genuinely interested in her and quite a few concubines.

Nobody was particularly surprised when she completed her Trials at a younger age than anyone before, and was awarded a title and the right to forge her own armor and weapon. The master smith Vulko, having viewed her almost like a daughter due to all the time she'd spent in the forge learning from and working with him, also gave her his own daughter, Briar's childhood friend the homunculus Denari, to be her squire/slave/lover/toy/best friend/weapon.

Together, the two embarked on many adventures and quests, one of which would eventually take them to the far north and a desperate lady.

Design:

As a consequence of being the only daughter of the Grandmaster, the world's arguably strongest and most beautiful woman - yes, more than the Amazons - Briar herself is quite a lovely thing herself who will no doubt surpass her mother one day. (Or would, if, you know...)

Very toned muscles, well-defined abs, sun-kissed skin. Very firm, sizable breasts and tight rear. Magical tattoos of briars wrapped around her limbs and chest. Usually wears a black sleeveless midriff-exposing top, black shorts, and combat boots. Roses sewn over her breasts, ass, and crotch. Long flowing red and black cloak that's constantly coming apart in rose petals at the end. Metal pauldron with rose emblem on her left shoulder, which causes her armor to materialize on her when smacked. Combat bracers on her arms and legs that look like ironwood plates held together by metal thorns. Hair is red and black and styled to look like a rose, and also sheds petals. Very long tail in back like a rose stem. Rose growing from right eye, with all the magical tattoos flowing from it. Symbol of the Four Colors set in the rose, with the red segment highlighted.

Armor covers entire body and is form-fitting, lightweight, super-strong, and kind of sexy, accentuating her figure without losing any protectiveness. Armor is largely red plates over black undersuit with overlapping 'petals'. Black thorn patterns covering armor corresponding to her tattoos, and can manifest as actual iron thorns. Her cloak is even longer now, and when she puts up the hood her head is completely invisible save for a single glowing silver eye, a rose, and a gruesome smile. Her helmet is styled with overlapping petal plates to make it look like a rose is blooming from the back of her head, with a rose-shaped eyepatch over her right eye while her silver eye burns brightly from the left. Small horns resembling the points of a crown. Armor is covered in runes known only to the Order of the Holy Rose. Roses on her shoulders, knees, hips, and breasts. Rose-shaped bootprints.

Wields a massive holy sword about as big as she is, holy silver covered in runes styled like briars. Rose-shaped ruby set in hilt the runes are flowing from. Grooves on the edges. Blade can split down the length to form a magical railgun, and has a second, smaller sword inside that can either be used as a secondary weapon or become the blade for a giant scythe.

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The status and legality of homunculi varies from country to country for a variety of reasons. For one thing, they are far more sophisticated and intelligent than golem labor, and more resilient than the majority of human or other magical being laborers. On the other hand, they are far more difficult and costly to make than golems (or human labor), so can't easily be mass-produced, which is something Big Clay and Stone lobbyists constantly use to claim they aren't economically feasible. Plus, homunculi are smart, so there's more of a chance of them turning on their masters!

(The fact that golems are far more likely to be stolen, hijacked, and used to build armies is conveniently overlooked, as is the fact that golems are more likely to misinterpret commands and cause a considerable amount of property damage, which their owners rarely take responsibility for. The fact that it never seems to occur to most folk that maybe homunculi might not have a reason to rebel if they were treated nicely says a thing or two about humanity.)

There's also the question of whether or not they're alive or people. Unlike golems, they have souls and Aura, but then again so do animals. The more orthodoxical or industrialized nations claim they aren't people since it's more economically beneficial for them not to be and also means they don't have rights, and use faith as a justification since when asked, the God of Light claimed creation is the sole provenance of himself, and therefore anything not made by him isn't real.

(They usually leave out the part where the interviewer points out the God of Darkness created the Grimm despite allegedly being incapable of anything but destroying things, and what about mothers who give birth or wizards who create/conjure creatures like magidragons to serve them, to which the Light Brother yelled at them to get out of his garden.)

The plain facts of the matter are that homunculi are artificial lifeforms created by skilled artificers and alchemists with souls of their own designed to serve a master or mistress. Despite the fear-mongering of Big Clay and Stone, it's impossible for a homunculi to rise up against humanity due to their master possessing their command seal, which controls them. They are also programmed to serve, obey, and love whoever holds their command seal. Giving the command seal to the homunculi doesn't do anything, they don't work that way, there's no such thing as a 'free' or independent homunculus, they would either give it back, take it to someone else or hold onto it until it's safe to return it or give it away. While this can and has been abused by less than scrupulous masters, homunculi can't feel pain or destroy themselves, and can magically warp their command seals away if their master attempts to destroy them or violates certain Laws all makers imprint into them. There are, of course, crafters who have found ways around this, but are considered criminals by the Guild, not that it stops some people from doing it anyway or selling to sadists or elite who don't care about the law. (Or are in countries where they just don't give a shit about treating property like people.)

When or if they're asked how they feel, the homunculi don't see what the big deal is. They love their makers and they love their owners and love being of service and don't require or want anything else. No matter what anyone says, they know they're real and nobody can take that away.

Denari was created by Vulko, forgemaster of the Order of the Holy Rose because he wanted to give being a father a try. She loved him as a master and a father, and they lived very happily together, with the other children in the Rose kingdom treating her like she was a kid just like them. Her very bestest friend in all the world was the heir of the Grandmaster, Briar Rose, and begged her father to give her command seal to Briar so she could serve and love her forever and forever. When Briar became a knight, he granted her request, making her the happiest homunculus in the kingdom if not the world. Everyone was very happy for them, because they'd been shipping them for years and quite a few people who'd placed bets collected a sizable amount.

They went on many quests and adventures together, and whenever they ran into anyone who treated Denari like she wasn't a person Briar would beat the shit out of them, which Denari considered unnecessary but loved her all the more for it. Eventually they were tasked by the Grandmaster to aid Eis Jedais in the dangerous journey to save her mother, and both fell in love with her and they decided they'd marry her after they got back, making their triumphant return that much sweeter.

They went on many more adventures after that, and soon befriended Blythe and her pet Fanglon and suddenly it felt like their party was complete. The Grandmaster revealed there was an old prophecy, older than the world, older than the Brothers, that one day the world would be changed forever by red, white, black, and yellow and believed they fit the criteria. (She apologetically told Denari there was no mention of green but that didn't mean she still couldn't help, not having a destiny could be just as good as having one. Denari was fine with that.)

When Salem raised a call to arms, they answered, believing this was their destiny.

They all died. Sure would've been nice if the prophecy mentioned a DATE.

Denari survived, as did many homunculi. While most of them chose to go dormant until a new master could find them and magic levels had risen again, Denari decided to stay awake until her loves came back to her.

Eventually Salem found her, nearly immobile and inoperable from centuries of exposure to the elements without maintenance and magic fading from Remnant. Believing only one of them should have to suffer alone like this for all eternity and regretting dooming her mistress and so many others in her pointless crusade against the gods, Salem killed her.

Even longer after that her command seal was found by a caravan. Since they didn't get attacked by Grimm, it was considered a lucky charm and passed down for many generations until one Pietro Polendina, struck by a strange urge to make a daughter, installed it into her reactor, figuring a little luck couldn't hurt.

And so a new sort of homunculus was born, one made of science rather than magic, but still possessing a soul...with the potential for magic still within her.

And when she was inevitably guided by destiny to the modern incarnations of her past life's mistresses, slowly the last echoes of Denari within her began to stir...

Design:

Denari has white ceramic skin that can be as soft as real skin or harder than orichalcum depending on the situation. Started out with a child body but due to repeated upgrades from her father - and a few she designed herself - she now has a mature and VERY sexy body, having shaped her figure to be the kind of form that Briar would find irresistible. Hourglass figure, great curves and smooth lines, perfectly proportioned and very grabbable squeezable assets. Green lines follow body's curves, with runes carved into each joint and on her palms. Glowing green eyes made of runes. Has numerous compartments all over her body she can use to store things a lot larger than you'd expect to fit, but also enjoys pulling things out from between her breasts because of the look on Briar's face when she does it. Compartments all lead to the same storage space so she doesn't NEED to pull them out from there, but see above.

Philosopher's Stone power core/soulstone allows her to alter her body as needed, but only with permission from whoever holds her command seal.

The Laws she was programmed with are carved into her back, though usually it's covered by her clothes, a low-cut green doublet under a darker green jerkin with a flowing knee-length green skirt with lots of little ribbons shaped like roses - and later, snowflakes - all over them. Skirt can be shortened or parted to increase mobility or when Briar wants to see her legs, which is quite often. Green shoes with rose and snowflake-shaped emblems. Fingerless gloves with the same. Collar with a rose emblem on the front and snowflake on back. Waist-length very curly very red flowing hair with a large green hairbow and a cute little off-center top hat and goggles. For weapons she can transmute her body, turn HERSELF into a weapon for Briar, or deploy half a dozen magically-controlled swords. Hairbow is also a weapon and her goggles can shoot lasers.

Command seal is a disk with a rune looking suspiciously like a power button.

Chapter Text

Ever since he was a boy, Jon dreamt of being a knight, a hero, maybe even a paladin of the Holy Rose!

His father repeatedly pointed out that was impossible since Jon was a serf like himself - and not even a very good one with his heads constantly in the clouds - and if he didn't get back to work they wouldn't have enough harvest to feed themselves for the winter so might have to sell/eat another one of his sisters and the lord might burn their house down again for being skimpy on taxes. Jon argued that there were lots of stories of heroes rising from humble origins and his father said, "Yes son, but those are stories, this is real life, now go back to picking those berries that turn people blue and cause them to hiccup bubbles which foretell the future. Oh no, it's a giant dwarf fairy basilisk! Run!"

Jon was forced to become man of the house very quickly, but on the plus side the lord accepted the new statue in lieu of most of their crops that season and his mother remarried very fast. Oddly fast, actually...and he quickly discovered being man of the house didn't really mean much considering how most of his sisters were older and stronger than him.

Still, he didn't give up his dream, practicing with sticks when he thought nobody was looking, then getting a thumping from his older sisters for slacking off on work.

And then, to his astonishment, the legendary Briar Rose and Eis Jedais passed through! (Oh and their homunculus slave Denari but nobody really cared about it.) Learning they were staying briefly at the castle before heading elsewhere, he convinced his sister, who worked at the castle, to switch with him so he could go to the castle instead in hopes of interacting with the great heroes. This was very easy, since he looked much more like a girl in her dress than she did.

Passing as a serving wench, he bribed, cheated, and tricked his way into serving the heroic duo themselves (Denari, as a homunculus, didn't need to eat so had been forced to stand in a corner because the lord thought its lack of breath and unblinking gaze was creepy), and managed to overhear some of their exploits right from the source, which sounded way cooler and up to date than the drunken off-key ballads the local bard failed to sing! He learned that they were heading to the land of Amazonia, where everyone was a beautiful and super-strong woman and they'd long figured out how to get around that pesky need for men to reproduce, which sounded like a dream come true for a not-too bright uneducated virgin like himself. Forgetting he was supposed to be pretending to be a woman, he told them of his dreams of being a hero. Eis was dismissive but Briar was encouraging...until he told her he wanted to join her order and she very politely tried to tell him they only accepted the reaaaaaaaaaally good ones and he might do better setting his sights a little lower. Much, much lower. Maybe a little lower than that.

He begged them to take him along as a squire (they pointed out Denari was already their squire, which he dismissed since it was just a homunculus, and was confused when they got angry at him), and Eis, whom he was (wrongfully) convinced was into him pointed out that as a serf he'd need permission from the lord to leave these lands since serfs were basically slaves with extra steps. Realizing she was right, he excitedly dumped all his food on the ground and rushed over to the lord to ask for permission, only for the lord to declare he was heading for bed and ordered 'her' to attend him.

After that night, Jon discovered he was bi. And no longer a virgin.

The next morning he discovered the duo (and homunculus) were already on their way. Realizing he couldn't miss his chance, he swiped some armor and a sword from the armory, and was surprised when he was immediately caught and forced to run for his life, which was pretty hard since he'd never worn armor before and it was a lot heavier than he'd thought. He made it to the stables, jumped (re: pulled himself with embarrassing effort) onto a horse, and ordered it to go.

The horse threw him off and stomped him to death. (Or so it seemed, he miraculously survived, but wished he was dead.)

On the road, Briar wondered if they'd ever see that nice young girl from last night again. Eis said it was doubtful and added that she'd spent the whole evening staring at her breasts and called Denari a 'thing,' and Briar decided yeah, it would probably be better if they never ran into each other again as she might kill her for besmirching her ladies' honor.

A lovestruck Denari insisted they take a break for some...'maintenance,' which her mistresses were more than eager to accommodate.

Chapter Text

While it is not uncommon for dragons or similar creatures to be created by especially powerful mages as slaves and pets, that does not mean they don't exist elsewhere. There are quite a few dragons existing out in the world and nobody's sure where they came from. When asked, the Light Brother said, "Dragons? I didn't make those...I think? Wait, there are dragons? When did this happen? Why does nobody tell me these things?"

Dragons tend to be of differing moralities and temperaments, just as people are. In some lands they're hunted and killed. In others, they are worshiped and revered. In still others, they're tamed or subjugated.

And there are also places where dragons are left alone. Or even rarer, treated just like everyone else.

Fa'ren was a guardian dragon for a certain province in a country far to the east. While he was treated with respect and reverence, he was also regarded as one of them, having been a part of everyone's lives for so long they couldn't imagine life without him. He watched over them and they him, and were content.

And then one day a woman fell from the sky and shattered a mountain and changed everything.

The woman, Thrud the Thunderer, was a valkyrie, a fearsome nigh-invincible warrior woman from the north. She'd never been this far from home, and Fa'ren and the locals had never met anyone like her before, so there was surprise and unease on both sides. Fa'ren decided to be the bigger dragon and offer her hospitality, which she happily accepted.

She was...different from everyone he'd ever met. Loud. Fearless. Boisterous. Always itching for a brawl or a meal, and could outeat and outfight anyone for miles around. She was disruptive and wild and a little frightening.

He thought she was AMAZING. The stories she told enthralled him. He'd never left his little corner of the world, never really wondered what might be out there...but now he wanted to see it all...at her side.

But of course that could never happen. It was his duty to stay here and protect this land, and he knew Thrud would never be satisfied staying here forever.

Then she startled him by asking if she could stay forever. Much to her surprise, she'd discovered she LIKED the change of pace in this quiet tranquil region. She liked the people here.

And she liked Fa'ren most of all.

Unfortunately, there was one thing Thrud had forgotten: the reason she'd crashed into that mountain in the first place. She'd mortally wounded the king of the ice giants in an epic duel, and his vengeful kin finally managed to track her down seeking payback. Realizing she'd put so many wonderful people in danger, Thrud volunteered to lead them away.

Fa'ren refused to let her go by herself.

It was the hardest battle he'd ever fought. He and Thrud both nearly died several times, and saved each other every time. Eventually, they prevailed...

But the dying leader of the warband warned her they'd just keep coming until either she or all of them were dead. They would never stop.

Thrud told Fa'ren she knew a way to end this for good, but she'd need to go back to her homeland. She tearfully said goodbye...

Only to find he'd already packed his bags and was ready to go with her, having asked one of his cousins to watch over his territory in his absence. Thrud protested that there was no guarantee when or even if they'd come back home.

He didn't care. Wherever she was, WAS home.

They set off for the north, having many grand adventures along the way. And one day they did return...

To be wed.

Designs:

Fa'ren's human-ish form is shirtless (Thrud's insistence) with light green skin and dragon tats going up his arms and back. Mystic tats on chest. Lean and muscled. Black martial artist pants. Belt sash resembling a dragon. Cloth covered in runes wrapped around hands and wrists. Black slippers. Waist-length black ponytail with strip of pink in hair. Pink slitted eyes. Small fangs, slitted nose. Pink dragon pearls set in palms, stomach, and throat. Long, lithe tail ending in three pearls of diminishing size. Antlers growing from head. True form is a mid-sized Eastern dragon with similar colors and pearl placements, whiskers, bigger horns and teeth. About the same size or smaller than Fanglon's dragon form, since even though he's a 'true' dragon he's not one of the really strong ones. Mythril ring engraved with runes of love, which grows or shrinks to fit whatever size or form he is.

Thrud is a little short and stocky on account of having some dwarf blood in her. Busty shortstack with conical breast armor over chain mail shirt. Arms exposed and covered in tats of all the monsters she's vanquished. Mythril gauntlets covered in runes, same as her breast armor. Mythril pauldrons made to look like frost giant skulls, more runes on them. Mythril boots of monster stomping with wings on the heels. Short sword sheathed on belt resembling a serpent biting its own tail. (The belt, not the sword.) Round shield strapped to back, very ornate map depicting the route to her homeland, but it's something only a dwarf or valkyrie could read. Primary weapon is a long-handled hammer with a stone and mythril head bigger than her own head covered in runes pertaining to lightning. Red hair with braided pigtails. Clan tattoos on face, including one of Fa'ren's dragon form. Lightning scar over one eye. Helmet with little wings. Can grow wings of her own. Jade ring resembling Fa'ren's dragon form around one finger.

Chapter Text

Amazonia was the homeland of the Amazons, as surprising as it might sound. The Amazons are a race of nigh-immortal, virtually invincible, extremely beautiful super strong women, and while they're stereotyped as all being warriors, they also have plenty of amazing scientists, mages, craftswomen, and ladies who excel at pretty much every profession. They're also all very good at fighting, but that's just incidental.

Ever since their nation's inception, countless kingdoms, countries, wizards, and warlords have tried to conquer them to 'put them in their place' or harness their incredible strength for world domination and/or have a massive harem. This always ends in abysmal failure and winds up with Amazonia absorbing their lands into their own and turning all the women into new amazons and the men...either into amazons as well or let them stay so long as they understand they will never ever be as powerful as their wives, sisters, mothers, and daughters. Since their female population far outnumbers the men, to prevent males from being turned into mass breeders they whipped up a way for women to reproduce either asexually or homosexually, but this always results in more Amazons, so 'native' men tend to disappear in a generation or two. Those Amazons with a taste for men often have to either range far afield to find prospective mates/boytoys, or participate in raids or buy new ones at the market.

Lyta, the Queen of Amazonia, was possibly the strongest and most beautiful women in a nation full of them, as well as a master of metal and magnetism, making her almost indomitable in most fields of battle, and she's skilled enough to win even when up against opponents that use nonmetal weapons or magic. Loved and respected by all her subjects - even those who challenge her for the throne don't really expect to win and get off on losing - she had almost anything she could ever want except for a man. It wasn't as if she especially NEEDED one, but it was one of the few things in her long life she'd never experienced, and she'd never really found a male that appealed to her.

That changed one day when her guards brought her a particularly battered, beaten, and pungent knight in a cage, explaining they'd found him trying to sneak across the border...very badly...and had almost gotten himself killed over a dozen times, so they decided to catch him and bring him to Lyta for his own good and to decide his fate. Should they keep him or release him back into the wild, where he was probably likely to die horribly? Personally they leaned towards the former, feeling the latter would be much too cruel.

Lyta was enthralled. Surrounded by so many strong, indomitable figures, she'd always had a soft spot for small, frail, weak creatures, and had established a menagerie full of them. The male - Jon, apparently - was possibly the cutest and most pathetic being she'd ever met, and immediately decided to keep him and love him forever since it was obvious he couldn't possibly survive on his own, and after she listened to his life story - including how he'd only survived being stomped to death by a horse due to a very thick skull and his armor, which wound up stuck to his body in the process, and he'd nearly died like fifty times on the way here - was convinced of this, promising she would take care of him forever and he'd never have to be scared of the big bad world ever again. For some reason Jon was not immediately on board with this and seemed very persistent about seeing Eis, and seemed very disappointed when she learned she'd already left...with her wives.

She wondered why he started crying. She held him to her breast until he stopped.

Jon found himself completely okay with staying here forever after that. It was a lot like being back at home, complete with being used as a clothes doll, except he was never hungry, never had to fear for his life, and he got his pelvis completely destroyed several times a day.

Lyta's other consorts were upset that she'd gotten a man at first, but quickly determined he wasn't even remotely a threat, and figured Lyta'd probably break him in half by accident eventually. It's probably how he wanted to go. (They were right.)

So while Jon settled into a very comfortable life of luxury and pelvis-destroying, there was still a small part of him that longed to be a hero, but he accepted it would never be...

Until a dragon and valkyrie crashed into the palace, nearly crushing him, immediately preceded by the kingdom getting attacked by frost giants. They apologized for the trouble and asked for help.

After Lyta and the Amazonians crushed the giants with ease, Thrud and Fa'ren again apologized for the trouble and explained their quest. Lyta, who hadn't been on one in a while, offered to help, especially since her own kingdom had been used as collateral by the giants. She insisted they take Jon with them because she was afraid someone might overfeed him while she was gone or he might get lonely and die of sadness. Thrud thought that was a fine idea, they could use a team mascot.

And so a new adventuring party was formed, the Amazon Quadrant (so named because Lyta was the leader and because most people assumed Fa'ren was a girl - to be fair he was somewhat effeminate and as a dragon could be whatever gender he wanted - and Jon almost exclusively found himself in women's clothing), and Jon discovered, to everyone's surprise, even though he was hopeless at fighting, incredibly frail, and had no magical ability whatsoever, he wasn't a half-bad tactician, and many battles might have been lost...or at least, harder to win, without him. In time, he would be remembered as more than the team mascot and acknowledged as one of the luckiest men in the world.

Designs:

Most Amazons are taller than the typical human male, but Lyta is even bigger on account of her royal blood and incredible strength, large enough to comfortably squeeze Jon between her breasts, though that might be less due to her size and more because he's a shrimp. A weak, skinny, shrimp. Bronzed skin, very muscular, absolutely perfect figure, abs that she could use to grind rocks on, a stellar bust (Jon has no complaints) and thighs that can and have crushed skulls. Arouses feelings of lust and envy in both sexes. One of world's top ten beauties.

Skin is virtually unbreakable due to her mothers bathing her in a magic fountain when she was a babe. There's a persistent rumor that her heel's her weak spot but that's untrue, her heel is as impervious as the rest of her. (It wasn't a very deep fountain, no need to dip her.) Even so, still wears armor due to tradition and it's considered unsporting if she can just walk into a conflict completely naked and unarmed and win. Red and bronze battle skirt. Sandals that lace up to her knees. Sculpted breastplate perfectly encapsulating her chest, armor with emblem of the Amazons over her stomach. Long flowing red cape. Retractable round shield on left arm containing the face and spirit of a gorgon she's subjugated who is one of her lovers and can manifest to serve and pleasure her. (And yes, that means she can fire petrifying beams with her shield.) Wields magic javelin in right arm that she can throw with the force of a rocket-powered ballista that returns to her hand instantly. Arm band on left arm. Has short sword strapped to belt for close-quarters combat, though bear in mind 'short' for her is still the size of a greatsword or larger for the average human.

Choker with orichalcum stone bearing the Amazonian crest. Vivid green eyes, a flawless face, and knee-length hair in a vibrant red ponytail. In battle wears a Spartan-style helmet which has a visor to protect her face.

Jon, despite the best efforts of his friends, seems to look perpetually scrawny, and underfed, which Lyta's fine with because she thinks it makes him look cuter. Scruffy blond hair and a few pathetic wisps on his chin that are the totality of his efforts to grow a beard. Lots of scars and sores from a life of poverty and hard labor, though they've been able to grow back most of his missing digits and some of his teeth, but they just can't fix this one limp, whenever they try something screws up his leg again. Lyta makes all his clothes herself, but only knows how to make dresses, and refuses to let Fa'ren make any or just buy some because Jon's her responsibility and she should be the one to care for him.

(And also whenever they get him guy clothes something rather unfortunate quickly happens to turn it to rags. He's come to accept this, and at least he feels kind of pretty when in a skirt, even if people keep mistaking him for an ugly woman.)

Has a collar on it with a nametag and address, a bell, and a spell that lets them track him down whenever he gets abducted, which happens far more often than he'd like. Almost zero combat ability and even less magic skill, but seems to have a fairly good sense for tactics to compensate, so they make sure they leave him somewhere safe during a fight with plenty of snacks, a spyglass, and a spell to let him communicate with them long-distance. Of course, this isn't always an option in combat so Lyta stuffs him between her breasts whenever a fight starts and assumes from his screams of joy he's having a good time.

Chapter Text

Carrion was a shadow harpy, a dark creature who thrived on carnage and decay, haunting battlefields and eating the dying and the dead and drawn to violence and bloodshed. She'd chosen to 'shadow' - literally and figuratively - an especially nasty warband who carved a bloody swath across the countryside, pillaging and plundering and raping, while she eagerly fed off the suffering and death in their wake.

And then they found their path blocked by a single woman in a white cloak and armor, bearing the mark of a rose. Carrion emerged from the shadows, her instincts telling her she was about to witness violence beyond anything she'd ever seen before.

She was right.

The lone woman...MASSACRED the warband. The sheer brutality and agony she inflicted on them was EXQUISITE. Every blow lethal, every strike shattering armor and weapons and sending limbs flying...the blood that spattered her white armor was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

When the woman was the last one standing, Carrion attempted to hide in her shadow, planning to follow her everywhere and feast on her victims...

And found a sword at her throat.

She was not afraid. To be slain by this monster would be the most wondrous end imaginable. She told her as such, begging her to make her demise as horrific as possible.

Instead, the woman spared her, recognizing her as not a monster, but a scavenger, an intelligent animal that was part of the circle of life who fed off the leavings of real monsters. Carrion, dismayed, pleaded with the woman to kill her, or let her follow and feed off the death in her wake.

The woman considered this, admitting that, as a holy warrior, there were no shortage of foes for her to slay...and agreed, on the condition that Carrion be her slave for all her days, protecting her and those she cared for from the shadows, using her skills to identify those who meant her harm, and, if necessary...to eliminate them in ways that she, as a paladin, was forbidden from doing with her own hands.

Carrion happily agreed. In the centuries that followed, she would be her mistress's spy, her tool, her assassin, her lover, jealously watching over her mistress's flock to ensure they came to no harm, and feeding off the harm that was inflicted on those foolish enough to try it.

And then her mistress gave birth, and Carrion immediately fell in love with the child, caring for her as if she were her own chick. Briar did not fear her for even a second, calling her 'Bird Mom,' which made Carrion's black heart feel things she never dreamt of.

She just knew her little mistress would be the greatest killer the world had ever known.

Design:

Carrion is a man-sized avian, pitch-black and blood-red feathers on a pair of massive wings covering a voluptuous humanoid torso with very sizable "pectorals." Shapely thighs leading down to scaly legs ending in huge bloodstained talons. Pale feminine face with black eyes and a mouth full of serrated fangs, with a huge mane of black feathers hanging down to the ground. Wears holy shackles and a collar marked with a rose which will kill her instantly and painlessly should she ever harm an innocent, disincentivizing her to do so since she wants her death to be long and agonizing.

Chapter Text

In a high-end inn that catered to wealthy patrons and dealt in the most decadent luxuries, there was a slave.

She had no name. Her owners never bothered giving her one.

She had no memories beyond being bought as a very little girl beyond darkness, terror, and pain. LOTS of pain. Pain was her constant companion as her mistress and her daughters absolutely loved abusing her for real or imagined slights or just for the fun of it and whoring her out to the guests or using her themselves. She had no concept of a future beyond this. Hope did not exist for her.

And then, one day, after a dropped plate due to exhaustion from days without sleep resulted in a beating that came a hair's breadth from killing her, something broke. A fire awakened within her, quite literally, and she burned down the inn.

And the city.

And the kingdom.

A mindless, screaming avatar of flame, she wandered aimlessly, destroying everything in her path. Whole armies were reduced to ash by her power and plains of volcanic glass were left in her wake until finally, she met her match in the Amazons, who finally brought her down and extinguished her fire.

The healers examined her and determined her mind was completely empty, having burned itself out along with everything else. She still lived, and it was put to the Queen whether or not they should let her die or implant a new personality and memories to fill the void. Lyta, smitten by the woman's strength and beauty, and pitying her for what she must have gone through, chose the latter.

And so the nameless wretch was reborn as Pyra, the most obedient and adoring of all Her Majesty's concubines. She used her flames to entertain and perform, and the thought of using them to harm another living soul filled her with horror and revulsion, not that she could have anyway due to her enchanted restraints. She loved her life, and her sisters, and her home, and the nation, and especially her queen, who gave her everything when she was nothing. She felt zero jealousy whenever Lyta found a new haremette or even Jon, for of course someone as wonderful as the queen deserved as many lovers as she could get. She would happily serve her all her days, and never ever dreamed of killing her, that would be unthinkable.

Design:

Chapter Text

While the noble line of Jedais are known for their strength, honor, loyalty, and virtue, there is a darker side to their family. Deep beneath their estate lies Cocytus, a frozen hell in which are interred the foulest, vilest, wickedest creatures, traitors, monsters, and criminals the Empire has ever seen, bound by the Jedais bloodline's mastery of ice. And the worst of them all, trapped in the coldest, darkest, deepest torture chamber was Nu, a thing that could not, WOULD not die, who had the blood of kings and nations on her claws, was one of the only beings in the world to almost DEFEAT the Grandmaster, and was the subject of many horror stories and cautionary tales by the Orthodoxy on the folly of seeking immortality.

This glosses over the fact it's their fault she's like this in the first place.

She was the thirteenth of a group of orphans they bought to perform some truly horrific experiments on involving blood stolen from the Grandmaster and several of the strongest and oldest beings in the world. She was the only one to survive, if you can call it living. They tried to turn her into an immortal assassin capable of killing any target, including the Grandmaster, in hopes that without her they'd finally be able to bring the Rose paladins back to heel and any other nation that defied them.

They succeeded far too well.

After killing her so-called masters, she slaughtered everyone that had a hand in what happened to her. Then she started killing all the targets she'd been indoctrinated to. Then she just killed for fun, and she might have kept killing if her only friend and mentor Lampent the Red hadn't been tortured to death by her enemies to try and get at her, and she let herself be captured after killing them because she had nothing left.

Throughout the ages, sometimes a member of the Jedais House would release her, using the blood seal to command her to assassinate a certain target before putting her back in the deep freeze. She came to dread those, since when she was frozen she didn't think or even dream. It was the closest to death she could experience.

So she was resigned when yet another Jedais thawed her out...and was surprised when the woman, a desperate girl named Sheva, begged her for help. She was the heir to the house, but her greedy uncle Betrayus had killed her father and was trying to kill her now. She pleaded with Nu to protect her, promising that if she did, she'd free her. For good. No more hit jobs, no more deep sleep. She could even kill her if she wanted, so long as her uncle died first.

Nu killed the uncle and his men easily enough. It was disappointing. She'd hoped for something more challenging as her 'last job.' Sheva fully expected to be killed next...

And Nu bent the knee, thanking her for being the second person in her life to treat her as a person, swearing to serve and protect her and her family for all time as gratitude.

And that's how Eis's mom got a hot immortal vampire bodyguard/bedwarmer.

Design:

When she's working, Nu wears an incredibly skimpy maid outfit. Blue and white top with frills, EXTREMELY low-cut to the point it might as well not even be there, sleeveless, and exposes midriff. Incredibly frilly skirt so short that she barely needs to bend over to reveal she's got nothing on underneath it. Number XIII tattooed into one shoulder. Dainty stiletto heels. Very pale, almost white skin, but a lot of people in Aurorus are like that so it doesn't stand out. White gloves. Broken shackles on wrists. Lustrous flowing waist-length red and black hair. One eye red, the other black. Very red lips. Choker with snowflake emblem, similar emblems embroidered into her clothes. Latin Nu character tattooed over one eye. Always wears her late mentor's wizard hat (which he stole).

When she's REALLY at work her body is clad in an incredibly form-fitting suit of skintight red armor made of crystallized blood with skulls on her shoulders, knees, breasts, and boots. Curved serrated blades grow from the sides of her limbs. Names of everyone she's killed is inscribed into the armor and there's always room for more. Bladed heels. Knives for fingers. Broken shackles now have blood-red whips trailing from them. Skulls of the other test subjects she had to kill to survive cover her midriff. Rest of armor has a skeletal motif. Lower half of face covered by red fanged skull mask. Eyes and hair now full red, and the Nu mark is red as well.

Chapter Text

Very little is known about who Grandmaster Freyla Rose was before she became known as the world's greatest warriors, and the strongest and most beautiful woman in history. Much of her life before being adopted into the Church and infused with the power of Light is unknown, and when inquired about the subject Freyla is fairly dismissive of the subject, claiming she was just a 'normal girl with normal knees' and 'nobody important,' since after all the Orthodoxy wouldn't test a ritual as powerful as what was done to her and her peers on someone important. (Her words.)

She almost immediately stood out from the other first-generation paladins. She very quickly outstripped them in strength, speed, skill, and every other quality. The Light was stronger in her than all the others, and her eyes had changed to silver, an alteration none of the others had experienced. In addition, while all the others claimed they had a vision from the God of Light upon their transformation, Freyla saw a Tree, though she sometimes remembers it as a blacksmith. She instinctively knew not to tell anyone about this, at least nobody she couldn't trust.

While all the other first-gen paladins died for one reason or another, Freyla survived. Her blood was used to create the next generation, who also inherited silver eyes and great power, though none came even close to matching Freyla, who just seemed to grow stronger and more beautiful by the day. They also had visions...not of the Light Brother or of a Tree, but of her. Attempts to indoctrinate them, and those who came after them, failed just like it had with Freyla, but they, like her, were good at pretending. As such, when Freyla voiced her misgivings about what they were being used for and the church and god they served, not a single one of them turned her down when she asked if they would leave with her to seek a new path.

It is still a mystery as to why the Order of the Holy Rose retained the power of Light even after forsaking the Orthodoxys and their god. While the Light Brother doesn't seem to know or care, and the church claims it's because it's a sign of their god's forgiveness and mercy, when they aren't cursing Freyla and her followers for turning their backs on them and experiencing their frustrations at how all attempts to create more paladins failed horribly - as Nu would happily attest to - Freyla believes the answer is faith. When pointed out she's an apostate by definition, she said there were more than one kinds of faith. Her paladins had faith in her, and she had faith in them.

It should come as little surprise that there are no small number of people, even outside her kingdom, who view the Grandmaster as a saint or even a god in her own right, though she would be the first to deny such claims.

Freyla's oracles started telling her that her child would be one of four who would change the world.

Freyla's dreams started telling her that her child would be one of four who would change the world.

Ancient prophecies started telling her that her child would be one of four who would change the world.

Which was all well and good except she COULDN'T GET PREGNANT.

(And not for lack of trying.)

As arguably the strongest woman in the world, no man or woman could penetrate her womb. Similarly, nobody else's was strong enough to handle her seed, even when she took tons of power-dampening potions and wore magic nullifiers and everything beforehand. No remedies for infertility worked, and she was slowly losing it as she got more and more visions of her future child, but nothing that told her how to GET HER.

Out of desperation, she created her own dragon, the mighty Tailong, one of the world's strongest and fiercest conjured beasts, in desperate hopes that he could finally grant her what she needed...

And he couldn't, though to his credit, he lasted longer than any of her previous partners.

Falling into despair as Tailong finally passed out from exhaustion, she stumbled naked into her garden and collapsed at the foot of a magical tree she'd grown from her own blood and magic, the Rosewood, which, as the name implied, grew roses instead of leaves. Convinced this torment would never end, she cried herself to sleep.

In her sleep, she dreamed of the tree cradling her in its many branches.

When she woke up the next morning, a hollow had opened inside the Rosewood's trunk, and inside it, lying on a bed of roses, was a perfect baby, with a rose growing from one eye.

And Freyla knew her daughter had been born.

Design:

Freyla is a tall, strong, beautiful woman without an ounce of fat. She is strong and long of limb, her figure curvy and voluptuous, her bust almost the size of her head. Her proportions are perfect, her beauty so dazzling that many fall irrevocably in love with her the instant they see her flawless features. Entire kingdoms have fallen at her smile, and her silver eyes offer a glimpse of a future so beautiful it is beyond belief, and nothing evil can bear her gaze for long. Her fluffy hair is red turning to black at the edges and falls in soft waves past her shoulders. Silver rose earrings in each ear. Choker with silver rose emblem.

Form-fitting red blouse which hugs and emphasizes her figure even more. Very soft, high thread count, embroidered with roses. Pauldron with rose emblem on left shoulder. Short white skirt over black leggings which hug her hips and rear. Comfortable boots with rose buckles. Silver rose buckle on belt hanging crosswise over hips with lots of pouches for seeds and candy. Never seen without her iconic white red-lined cloak and hood, the fabric warm and soft and stronger than most metals.

Smacking the emblem on her pauldron summons her armor, a massive suit practically the size of a mini-mecha, white and gold and silver and covered in red roses. EXTREMELY feminine and considered in some parts of the world to be a god in its own right. Cloak grows to scale with its size. Despite Freyla's claims that she's not a god or queen, her helm manifests a crown. Legs are basically swords. Wields a huge holy sword and and axe, which are her favored weapons in her normal form as well.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Emeraude. She was the princess of the magical kingdom of Veridis, a land where nothing bad happened. Everrrrrr. She had a pretty darn perfect life. She had parents that loved her, her subjects adored her, she had lots of friends who liked her for more than just her title, and she'd even become friends with legendary heroes like the Warriors of the Four Colors (and Denari) and the Amazon Quadrant! (Most people believed Fa'ren and Jon were girls at first glance. Fa'ren, as a dragon, looked rather androgynous to begin with and could change sexes if he wanted. Jon...well, he does look nice in a dress.) She'd gone on a few adventures with them and used her powers to help them and protect her kingdom, powers granted by the Green Emerald of Aporia, an artifact that had been implanted in her when she was a baby to keep her from dying. It gave her the ability to make illusions with real mass, ones so strong they not only continued to endure after she stopped focusing on them, but could even have life of their own. She could literally make her dreams a reality, and she made sure they'd always be good ones.

Once upon a time there was a nameless slave. She'd been sold to an incredibly cruel mage by her parents so they wouldn't have another mouth to feed, and daily made to suffer abuses so horrid she quickly grew to envy the dead. The only sliver of light in her unending torment were the stories she'd heard of great heroes such as the Warriors of the Four Colors and the Amazon Quadrant. A childish, desperate part of her believed that one day they would strike down her master and save her, and she'd concocted numerous stories of the adventures they'd go on together, and of a land where everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. And then one day her master decided it was time to actually make herself useful and sacrificed her in an attempt to activate the power of the Green Emerald of Aporia, an artifact that had the ability to make illusions with real mass, ones so strong they not only continued to endure after she stopped focusing on them, but could even have life of their own. She could literally make her dreams, no, her NIGHTMARES a reality, and she fully intended to unleash them upon the world. As nobody came to save her, the slave's last thought was the lament that none of her own dreams would ever come true.

Both of these stories are true. Both of these stories are false.

What, then, is the reality?

Design:

Emeraude is a difficult person to describe, because no two people perceive her or even remember her the same way. The fact that she can change shape, color, age, size, form, and even species as easy as breathing thanks to her mastery of illusion doesn't help matters. 'Generally,' though, there's some things most everyone can agree on:

She (usually) has brown skin, bright red eyes, a radiant smile, and mint-green hair in two long ponytails to her knees held by clips that are either butterflies or fairies or a mix of both. She is also extremely beautiful, as ugliness does not exist in her domain and she cannot fathom being less than gorgeous or not having a reason to smile.

Her clothes, products of her will, also change from thought to thought but are typically in bright colors, extravagant, stylish, made of impossible materials and designs, and enhance her beauty. (Yes, this also means she's basically naked since her clothes are illusions, but her illusions are real, so whatevs)

The Green Emerald of Aporia is embedded in her chest, and no matter the illusion it's always visible in some fashion.

There's an everblooming rose in her hair, a nevermelt ice crystal earring in one ear, an everburning dragonscale earring in the other, and a charm bracelet with a black belladonna flower, power icon, and mark of the Four Colors to prove she's BFFs with the Warriors of the Four Colors (and Denari.)

And finally, there's always a rusty bloodstained shackle on one ankle. Whenever someone points it out to her, she gets confused, insists she has no idea what they're talking about, gets increasingly upset and scared if they don't drop it, and then the world starts collapsing and nightmares begin bleeding through the sky until the questioner wisely shuts up, at which point everything goes back to normal and she immediately forgets what they were talking about.

Chapter Text

Bodies lay strewn across the pass.

They had been crushed. Dismembered. Eviscerated. Disemboweled. Burned. Shredded. Completely and utterly slaughtered.

Roses were already growing from the corpses, the blood sinking into the ground proving fertile soil for them to blossom. In a matter of days, if not hours, there would be nothing left but a beautiful field of blood-red and bone-white flowers, their sweet scent already beginning to overtake the stench of rotting flesh, blood, and spilled bowels.

A towering, colossal figure loomed over the dead, its pristine white armor stained red with blood. The armor shimmered, and then dissolved into white flower petals, blowing away in the wind and leaving a much smaller figure behind.

One who was no less a colossus.

Regarding the growing flowers and dead bodies with a dispassionate look, not a shred of pity or remorse in her silver eyes. Flicking the blood off her blade, she sheathed it and turned away, her cloak billowing behind her as she turned and walked away.

Carrion, staring at her from a nearby shadow, knew she would follow her anywhere. No, she MUST.

Was this what love was?

Chapter Text

"MAMA! MAMA!"

There was a thunderclap, and Freyla was at Briar's side, a sonic boom blasting everything away as white petals billowed around her, several holes having been smashed through every wall in her path in her hurry. "I'm here, my little blossom! What is it?"

Tears in her eyes, Briar held up an injured crow. "Mama, I founded this birdy an' he's hurt an' he can't fly an'an'an' I don' wan' him to dieeeeee!"

"There, there, petal," Freyla said soothingly, rubbing her daughter's head and causing rose petals to flake off. "I'll make sure he gets better and go off into the skies once more. He's really lucky to have been found by someone as caring as you-"

Carrion abruptly leapt out of her shadow, snatched the crow from Briar's hands, and messily devoured it, getting blood and feathers everywhere. "I only bird in Briar's life! ME! Nobird else can take place!"

Freyla and Briar stared at her, shocked.

Then Briar burst into tears and Freyla rose to her feet, silver eyes blazing.

Carrion gulped, feeling terror and excitement. "...I did bad, didn't I?"

Several days of brutal and unceasing torture by an outraged mother later, Carrion promised never to eat any of Briar's animal friends or make her cry ever again.

Chapter Text

"Wow! Your kingdom is so amazing, Emeraude!" Briar gushed as she zipped all over the place, gawking at all the pretty shiny buildings and pretty shiny people and pretty shiny everything of Veridis. As the name of the kingdom and its princess implied, most things were some shade of green, and it all dazzled and shone in the bright sunlight. The architecture was almost literally fluid, buildings seeming to shift design from one second to the next, resembling structures from an artist's fever dreams more than something that could possibly exist in reality. There were bright smiles on everyone's faces, and songs filled the air, and there were so many amazing smells and sights and sounds she started to get overwhelmed, finally collapsing into Eis and Denari's arms, giggling and shedding rose petals everywhere.

"I mean...not to sound petty or jealous or anything," the very jealous Eis said as she absent-mindedly stroked Briar's hair to help calm her down while Denari helped by pushing her mistress's face into her ample chest. "But...I think this may almost rival the Rose Kingdom for prosperity and happiness." She frowned. "And possibly Jedais."

Fanglon grinned, noticing how many bystanders were admiring her, and flexed her muscles. "Yeah, it's almost too good to be true!"

"...Or rather, EXACTLY too good to be true..." Blythe murmured, trying and failing not to stare and blush at her beloved slave's gorgeous physique.

Briar reluctantly lifted her face from the homunculus's bosom. "Oh come on girls, not EVERY place that's really super amazingly good has to have a dark horrifying secret! My home doesn't!"

"That we know of," Blythe said but the ghost of a smile on her face showed she meant no insult.

Briar pouted. "Hey!"

Emeraude, the most beautiful creature in this kingdom of fantasy, hesitated, biting a lip. "Wellll...there is ONE thing..." she admitted.

"Called it," Blythe said.

"Nooooo!" Briar wailed, giving Denari an opportunity to push her face back down to comfort her. Not for the first time, Eis felt a sliver of envy for the homunculus.

Emeraude glanced up at the dazzling emerald palace which dominated the skyline. "No door in Viridis has a lock except for one in the very heart of the palace. Ever since I was a kid, my parents told me that so long as that door stays closed, Viridis will be safe forever, but if it opened, everything and everyone would be gone in an instant."

The Warriors of the Four Colors (and Denari) immediately stood at attention at this. Eis sighed. "Of course."

Blythe crossed her arms. "And naturally, you've tried multiple times throughout your life to find out what's in there."

Emeraude gave her a confused look. "No, because I'm a good girl and always do what my parents tell me."

"Oh," Blythe, who had done no such thing, replied.

"And also because whenever I get close to that door I feel absolutely terrified. I don't think I even knew what fear WAS before I saw that thing," Emeraude continued, staring off into the distance. The sky darkened, the dazzle on everything faded, and all the colors became more muted and grim as the smiles on all the townspeople's faces dropped, looks of discomfort and dread replacing them. "I've lost count of the times I've woken up to find I've sleepwalked to the door. Sometimes I think I can hear something from the other side. Someone trying to tell me something important, about the kingdom, about myself, about the nature of reality and my place in it. Something I don't want to know but must learn anyway." She paused. "It sounds like myself."

Everyone stared in dismay. "Ooh," Briar murmured.

Fanglon grimaced. "Well that's ominous."

Eis sighed. "All right, let's go see it."

"What?!" Emeraude cried.

Blythe gave the elf an incredulous look. "Did you NOT just hear her?!"

Eis rolled her eyes. "Come on, we all know how this story goes. Spooky door that's never supposed to be opened gets opened and reveals horrible truth. Utopian civilization falls. Everyone dies. The end. Something something lesson about hubris or how paradise can't exist or nothing lasts forever or the dangers of curiosity or always listen to your parents or whatever."

Denari nodded. "That is a common tale, yes."

"So why don't we try and head this off at the pass and use our combined magic to make sure it is almost completely impossible for that door to EVER open. Speaking of, does this door happen to have a key?" Eis asked.

Emeraude nodded hesitantly. "Yes, it's in my father's possession and the only thing that can open the door-"

"Great, let's destroy it," Eis said.

Emeraude gave her an astonished look. "It CANNOT be destroyed-"

"I'll eat it," Fanglon volunteered.

Blythe nodded. "Even if it withstands her fire, it's unlikely it'll ever come out. And if it does I'll banish it to the void or something."

Emeraude gave them an astonished, hopeful look. "...You're even more amazing than I imagined."

Briar smiled radiantly. "We get that a lot."

Chapter Text

Katrina and her husband Cole were both musicians, meaning they specialized in bardic magic, which is a lot more versatile than most people give them credit for. They lived a decently comfortable life, she a music teacher for the elite, while he used his magic to motivate workers in the local mines to be more efficient and productive. They even had a kid on the way.

Then Cole admitted he was growing increasingly uncomfortable with his work. The miners were already forced to work long hours for little to no pay in inhumane conditions, he was starting to doubt most of the non-paid employees were actually guilty of whatever crime got them thrown down there, and he was slowly realizing he was driving them closer and closer to death by pushing them harder than they could handle. She encouraged him to try and do something about it, and he added his voice and song to the growing protests.

Shortly after, Katrina got deathly ill and her unborn child followed suit. They couldn't afford the really good doctors or healers, and nothing seemed to be working, and the clergy claimed this must be punishment for their sins, strongly implying the Light Brother might bestow his blessing if Cole went back to work.

He had to struggle not to kill the bastard.

Katrina, meanwhile, was visited by a strange black cat that left her a pamphlet about the Southern Isles and their ruler, the Black Witch, painting a very different picture than the Orthodoxy. She showed it to Cole when he stormed home, and he decided they'd leave immediately.

When they were arrived, they immediately found the isles to be far from the dark hell full of ungodly abominations they'd been told of, but a near-utopia inhabited by happy, healthy, gorgeous animal folk. They were greeted personally by Blythe, who not only immediately confirmed that Katrina and the baby were, in fact, cursed to try and make Cole resume buffing the miners, but promised she could fix it for free. She also offered to make Katrina into a catwoman to make her body strong enough so this could never happen again, and husband and wife enthusiastically accepted.

The couple moved to the island permanently, the child was born as a healthy kitten, and Cole's former employers were mauled to death by what looked like some kind of cat monster from the state of the bodies and the miners all disappeared. The Black Witch was - rightfully, as it turns out - blamed.

Design:

Chapter Text

Silk grew up in the Southern Isles idolizing her mother, a royal knight serving the Belladonna family, and possibly the strongest warrior in the isles. Silk believed her mother was unbeatable, and aspired to be as strong as she was someday.

And then the plague struck and her mother's strength did nothing to protect her from dying an agonizing, drawn-out death, a shriveled husk in constant pain screaming so much hatred at everyone and everything that when she finally passed it was practically a relief, forever tainting Silk's memory of her hero. She'd believed she wouldn't fear death, but now knew she never, EVER wanted to die like that, not a broken diseased shell.

When Blythe declared herself a heretic, Silk, like most of the population, still swore loyalty to her, and she was among the first to volunteer for her experiments, becoming a human-rabbit hybrid with not just strength beyond her mother had ever dreamed, but a powerful, beautiful body that would be untouched by illness or age, especially after she volunteered for another experiment using some of the Roseblood given to them after her lady forged ties with the Order of the Holy Rose.

Blythe tasked Silk and the super soldiers like her to travel to the mainland and right wrongs, explaining that when people saw that the 'beastfolk' the Orthodoxy decried as condemned monsters were people like them if not better, it might change minds and sway others to their cause. Understanding the propagandist nature of this mission but believing in her lady's cause wholeheartedly, Silk was more than happy to go forth to the outside world.

And she did indeed face a great deal of fear and prejudice, but she heeded it not, confident in her strength, her transformed body, and in her lady. She helped many people and vanquished many evils before coming upon a parish presided over by the wicked Cardinal Winchester, who was abusing his authority to overtax and extort his flock, forcing the womenfolk to submit to him should they wish to keep from being branded heretics and their families allowed to continue running their business/living. Taking great issue with this, Silk stormed his cathedral and smote him dead, ignoring his protests that she couldn't do this and she would be making an enemy of the whole Orthodoxy.

While many rejoiced, others lamented that she'd only made things worse for them. One of the girls she'd rescued, whom Winchester had been about to force himself on, a comely lass named Prada, called them cowards for letting things get this far, and Silk offered them safe passage to the Southern Isles and sanctuary. Prada, whom she'd quickly taken a liking to, Silk offered to let accompany her as her squire, an offer which Prada, who'd longed to leave the parish and debut her own line of clothing elsewhere, was more than happy to accept, especially if it meant staying in the company of such a kind and beautiful mistress like herself.

Their adventures and romance would be the stuff of legends.

Designs:

Silk is a tall, tanned, well-muscled, gorgeous woman with extra-thick thighs, tight ass, and sizable breasts. Brown eyes with silver flecks in them. Cute fluffy rabbit tail and tall rabbit ears. Floor-length brown hair in two plaits with silver streak in it as well as one of her bangs. Brown vest over a low-cut black form-hugging top with a very tight brown skirt over black leggings stitched with belladonna and rose flowers, wrappings around forearms and rabbit feet. Choker with family crest. Necklace with defaced holy icon to indicate her commitment to heresy.

Black and brown pauldron on left shoulder bearing the Belladonna emblem. When she strikes it, she's instantly clothed in black and brown armor, very form-fitting and sexy as well as lightweight and durable, covered in embossed belladonna plants intertwined with a rose, her family crest emblazoned over her heart. Flowing black cape with brown interior. Flexible metal covering her feet and ears, face covered by grill visor, hair flowing out behind in ponytail. Due to her photographic memory she can use every fighting style she's ever seen, and so was granted a synthetic Mimic weapon by her liege that can turn into every weapon she's ever seen to match with whichever style she's using.

Her squire, Prada, is a pale-skinned halfling with short brown hair and immaculately curated feet. Very curvy shortstack, can ride on her mistress's shoulder. Wears shades, a beret, and a very stylish mocha top and black pants made herself. (She makes all their clothes, which translates surprisingly well to magic armor maintenance.) Effortlessly carries a bag almost half as big as she is that's much bigger on the inside carrying all their supplies and gear, and can easily be used as a bludgeon even without pulling out the instruments within. (Sewing needles and scissors can KILL, people.) Is extremely loyal and EXTREMELY gay, which is good because Silk has an almost inexhaustible libido. They've had half-hearted talks about her eventually being a knight someday but they both know she'll probably remain in Silk's service for the rest of her life and they see no problem with that.

Chapter Text

Illua was raised from childhood to be an assassin for the Orthodoxy. Utterly remorseless and devoid of empathy, she would slaughter any target her masters gave her, sending a message to all the price of defying the will of the gods, or rather those who spoke for them. However, when she attempted to kill a powerful sorceress, not only did she fail, but the enchantress cursed her with something she had lacked her entire life: a conscience.

Driven to the brink of madness by guilt for all the lives she'd taken, including a LOT of children, she fled into the night. Knowing she would soon find herself a target by her own 'family' and no longer possessing the will or stomach to fight and kill, even in self-defense, out of desperation she went to the only place she was sure they'd never follow, the den of heresy itself, the Southern Isles. There, she threw herself upon the mercy of Blythe, pleading for sanctuary.

Fanglon wanted to throw her into the labyrinth the minotaur used to be trapped in, considering how many innocents, including her mistress's kind, had been slaughtered by the assassin. Blythe, understanding well the power regret has to change a person, decided to give her a chance, and remodeled her into a chameleon, so she could shapeshift and the agents of the Orthodoxy would never be able to find her again. However, Blythe assured her she would be safe here on the isles, and encouraged her to try and make a life for itself.

And she tried. She really did. She unlearned everything the Orthodoxy had taught her, dedicated herself to her new liege and her allies, made friends, tried to make amends for her past...

But her guilt never abated. Confused and discomfited, she asked Blythe what was wrong with her, and Blythe said she'd given her the power to change her appearance, but at the end of the day deep down she was still herself, and that was something she could never escape. With time and therapy, yes, she could might be able to find some measure of peace...or not. Not everyone did. Distraught at the thought of years, decades, even CENTURIES of feeling like this, Illua begged her for a faster way. Blythe said there usually weren't shortcuts for this kind of thing...but if she REALLY wanted to become someone else, to cut ties with her past forever, to truly be reborn and bury Illua and her sins, there was one option, but only if she was REALLY sure.

Illua didn't care about the cost. This supernaturally-induced guilt got worse every day. One way or another, she couldn't live like this anymore.

Blythe sent her to Veridis with an invitation to meet Princess Emeraude. She instructed Illua to lie to Emeraude and introduce herself not as Illua, the former assassin, but as someone else entirely. Someone she wanted to be more than anyone else. Illua didn't really get it, but Blythe seemed so certain she could not help but believe her. When she met Emeraude, she was smitten as just about everyone who meets her was, and almost forgot to tell her the story she'd made up for herself: that she was Amica, a childhood friend of Blythe's from the Southern Isles, whose parents had been servants in the Belladonna home and had miraculously been spared the worst of the plague. After a failed confession to Blythe - for of course she'd been in love with her because she was a sad pathetic lesbian, that much wasn't a lie - she'd agreed to be an ambassador to Veridis until things felt less awkward between them and she didn't need to be afraid Fanglon would burn her alive. Emeraude completely bought this, graciously offered her a place in the castle, and spent the rest of the day showing her around, entertaining her, treating her, and being just the best friend she could possibly be. Feeling warm and comfortable and happy, she went to bed, for the first time in ages not afraid of her nightmares.

Illua died in her sleep. The next morning, Amica woke up in her place, looking forward to another day spent in Emeraude's presence. She sent a letter home assuring her folks that she was enjoying it here and thanking Blythe for the chance at a fresh start. When she proposed to Emeraude a few days later, she made sure they were invited to the wedding. She never did figure out why Blythe's smile had been tinged with sadness.

"Couldn't you have just given her a memory erasure potion?" Fanglon asked her mistress during the reception.

"That would have felt too much like killing her," Blythe mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

"So you just let Emeraude do it instead," Fanglon accused.

"Even if I had done it, there's a chance the Orthodoxy might have found her someday and sent her own replacement to kill her," Blythe said. "But now she's free of them for good. The woman once known as Illua no longer exists. She's safe, and with a woman who'll love her the way she deserves."

Fanglon considered this. "Is this because I got jealous of how much time you were spending with her and how much she was ogling you when she thought you weren't looking and you were worried she or I might become just like A-"

Blythe kissed her to shut her up.

Then Eis interrupted them to tell them that Briar had taken a single sip of wine and gotten stuck in the chandelier again, and the conversation, much like Illua, was forgotten.

Design:

Illua - or rather, Amica, there's no such person as Illua - is a dark-skinned chameleon beastwoman with dark eyes, a pair of yellow horns growing from her forehead, colorful scales resembling freckles on her cheeks, hands, arms, legs, and other parts of her body, and a long curled-up tail. While she isn't covered in visible scales, she can still change her entire body's color and even become invisible - or, rather, blend into her surroundings so as to seem invisible. Very long brown hair in a ponytail curled up like her tail which would fall past her shins when straightened. Mark of the Belladonna house under left eye in green ink. Emerald earrings resembling chameleon eyes.

She also possesses a very long tongue which has quite a few potential uses.

Wears a circlet dotted with emeralds and a choker collar with an emerald shaped like the Belladonna emblem. Flowing dress looking like it's made from iridescent lizard scales, with matching detached sleeves on her arms. Exposed shoulders and a breast window which reveals a really cute birthmark Emeraude wants to see all the time. Emerald wedding ring which she never takes off. Belt resembling intertwined chameleon tails with a loose green skirt of the same iridescent scale-like material. Is somehow able to make her clothes change color and disappear like the rest of her and is unclear as to how. Legs are mostly bare but she has an emerald-studded ankle cuff to match the rusty shackle Emeraude has which she strangely seems to be unaware of and acts oddly whenever it's brought up. Emerald slippers, which are much more comfortable than they sound.

Chapter Text

Blythe was not in a good place.

Her population had been devastated by plague. Her parents were dead, and she'd been thrust into a position of power she'd thought she'd be ready for but wasn't. She'd essentially declared war on much of the world by declaring herself a heretic and leading her nation down the road of blasphemy, a road she feared would lead in the deaths of everyone who followed her. She'd vowed to conquer death and overthrow the gods and had only the slimmest of ideas on how to do either.

So, safe to say she was kind of stressed.

As this stress built up, so did her self-loathing. Desperate to alleviate her doubts and fears, she started indulging in certain vices in an attempt to take the edge off. And when that proved insufficient, she turned to...darker options. Things that she would never inflict on her people for she was certain they'd hate her for it and see her for the fraud she really was. Eventually, as her self-destructive urges warred with her attempts to maintain her duties and responsibilities, she decided to take a lover, one who could give her what she wanted. But since she would never put any of her people in such a position, to see her as anything other than the confident, indomitable sorceress they'd pledged their loyalty to, she decided to make her own.

And so Aurox the minotaur came into being.

To say their relationship was unhealthy would be an understatement. Conjured creatures are a reflection of their summoners, and since Blythe was not in a good headspace when she created him Aurox was a monster. And that was fine with her, because she felt a monster was all she deserved. And besides, so long as he was focused on her, hurting her, nobody else was at risk. Nobody else had to know. It was enough.

She was wrong.

Aurox was dissatisfied living in secret. He wanted more. He wanted to see the sun, to leave the palace. To take what he wanted, hurt who he wanted, do as he pleased. He grew to resent Blythe, consumed with envy as he convinced himself that she was cheating on him, that she was ashamed of him. So he decided to remind her of who she really loved, and who was the only person that would ever love her.

She barely stopped him before he did something unspeakable.

She knew this had gone too far. That she'd let her stress relief dominate her life, made her into someone she hated. She should kill him. It would be so easy. But out of lingering, misguided sentiment, cowardice, or embarrassment, she instead condemned him to a labyrinth beneath the palace, the old dungeon, and tried to put him out of mind, hoping he'd die down there and she wouldn't have to do anything. After all, like her future reincarnation, Blythe had a bad habit of trying to run away from her problems.

He did not die.

Time passed. She matured and grew wiser and more responsible. She began to believe in herself the way others did. She made progress in her research and started forming allies on the mainland. At last, she learned to love and take pride in herself.

But Aurox did not die.

Blythe knew so long as he lived, she could never move on. Before, she couldn't kill him due to weakness. Now, she couldn't kill him out of guilt, for making him like this. But die he must, and so...

She created Fanglon.

A much healthier person now, her conjured dragon was GORGEOUS. Strong, loyal, invincible, and loved her the real way.

She sent her into the labyrinth to kill Aurox, closing that dark chapter of her life forever.

Design:

Aurox was a monster, plain and simple. A minotaur, huge, muscular, and brutal, embodying all the worst stereotypes of his kind and then some. A mane of shaggy red hair, a ring in his nose, massive horns, broken shackles on his wrists, with powerful limbs and hands that broke and hooves that crushed. When Fanglon found him in the depths, he was starving, half-mad, and the left side of his face was a mess from where Blythe had clawed out one of his eyes, the filth and infection causing his flesh to rot and putrefy and making him even more a monster.

When Fanglon killed him, it was not a battle, but a mercy, though she did lose an arm to him. She never told Blythe the condition she'd found him in, knowing it would only hurt her.

Chapter Text

Sharna, eldest daughter of Great Lady Sheva of Jedais, seemed to have a perfect life. Incredibly beautiful, an incredibly skilled mage knight, heir to one of the most powerful and influential Houses in the Aurorus Empire, with a sister who idolized her and a mother who loved her dearly, she had won many campaigns and commanded her own elite unit of warrior maids who were also her battle harem, each named after a particular gemstone, including a fire dragon named Ruby (my, wouldn't THAT be confusing) whom she conjured and enslaved to prove that her ice magic was so strong even the mightiest of flames couldn't melt it. Yes, she did indeed have a wonderful life... Except for one thing.

Her father, Jackady, a half-elf - who, despite all evidence to the contrary, insisted he was a full elf - who had somehow managed to seduce her mother and gain a position of power in the house. Sharna DESPISED the man, who was constantly trying to find ways to gain more power and money, sullying the House's reputation, and constantly trying to take credit for the accomplishments of others, as if they were incapable of achieving anything without his 'help.' Sharna KNEW he was no good, but had no solid evidence that would convince her mother to cut him off, and Nu, who would happily have murdered him for the unforgivable crime of convincing her mistress to banish her from her bedchamber at Jackady's behest, was unable to act due to Sheva ordering her not to harm her husband. Sharna was forced to settle for using a bloodline spell to remove all traces of his DNA from her body and using the same spell on Eis when she was old enough to realize her father's perfidy and to ask, while waiting for the opportunity to remove him permanently from the family.

One day, without warning, the Northern Lights disappeared. This was VERY bad news, since they were sacred in the Empire, the source of the Frozen Throne's power and the method by which their oracles could divine the future. Without them, the path forward was unclear and the Frozen Throne began to die, and if that happened, then due to complicated political reasons Sheva would be named the next holder of the Throne.

Naturally, quite a lot of other high-ranking nobles were quick to accuse Sheva of having something to do with this, especially since the last time the Northern Lights had disappeared, it had been her father, the legendary frost giant "Big Nick" who'd brought them back. Sharna knew this was preposterous, of course. Sheva had been a dear friend - and more - of the Frozen Throne for over a thousand years. She would never betray her.

There was, however, another who stood to profit from Sheva taking the throne...

Sharna, with help from the seven dwarf brothers, checked the family archives and determined that the last time the Northern Lights had vanished, they'd been taken by a powerful ancient Grimm called the Devourer of Light. "Big Nick" defeated it by pounding it so hard it got stuck deep beneath the ice, and then he built a town over it where he employed elves to produce toys for children all around the world for free, the joy this generated not only strengthening the Northern Lights but also keeping the Devourer dormant. However, Jackady had attempted to restructure it into a for-profit business that mass produced toys for wealthy paying customers. When the elves refused, he fired them all and shut the town down out of spite, which must have weakened the seal on the Devourer and let it escape.

Unfortunately, there was no way Sharna could prove he'd done it deliberately as part of a scheme to place his wife on the throne so he could have the ear of the most powerful woman in the empire - and not even she was sure that's what he'd planned for - but this would get him strictly reprimanded and restrict his actions in the future, which was still a win.

With the military in disarray with the impending death and succession of the Frozen Throne, Sharna was forced to head to the lair of the Devourer with naught but her battle harem and the Four Aces of Aurorus, leaving the housecarls behind to make sure Jedais would be in good hands and Nu with orders to protect her family and if something should "happen" to Jackady, well...

Sharna and her party departed for the northernmost point of the empire in search of the Northern Lights. It was a long, grueling trek, and they faced many obstacles, including wendigos, frost giants, rogue ice fey, and plenty of Grimm. Their greatest struggle of all came when they faced the Devourer in its lair, however. It was an epic battle, the stuff of legends, that lasted for what felt like days. They all nearly died countless times, and might have perished had Sharna not tapped into the full power of her bloodline, purified when she'd removed all of Jackady's genes from her own all those years ago, and transformed into a full ice dragon, freezing and destroying the Grimm once and for all.

With the Devourer vanquished, the Northern Lights returned to the firmament, saving the Frozen Throne's life and snuffing out any chances of a civil war - one of the factions vying for the throne wanted Tin-Ton the Clown to be the next ruler, of all things! - or Jackady becoming the most powerful man in the empire. For her valor, Sharna was granted the title of Mistress of the Northern Lights, and brought much honor to her house. The proud smiles on her mother, sister, lovers, comrades, and Nu's faces were almost as sweet as the forced smile Jackady had to put on and the restrained, impotent fury in his eyes when he was informed toy production would resume as soon as possible, exactly as it had been, without profit.

Design:

Chapter Text

Sheva had genuinely believed she was going to die.

Oh, she knew how strong her daughter was, and that she was traveling alongside the Rose heir, but she was convinced she was going to die. She was even starting to welcome the prospect as an end to her pain, and she had made the extremely reluctant Nu promise to kill her if it became unbearable, though the vampire had made her promise to let her bite and try to turn her if she survived to keep this from ever happening again.

It came dangerously down to the wire in the end. Eis and her companions made it home moments before Nu would have carried out her final order, and even then it was because the vampire had delayed as long as possible. Sheva was cured and restored to full health, though they never were able to regrow the eye she'd lost from her late husband's curse.

(Briar had said she should wear an eyepatch to look like a pirate. Sheva immediately knew she was perfect for her daughter.)

After recovering from Nu dragging her off to bed, turning her, and vigorously making love to her for at least a week straight, she was elated to learn that Eis had fallen head-over-heels in love with Briar and Denari, warmly welcoming both of them to the family, and was even MORE overjoyed when they announced they would be wed, which was hardly a surprise to anyone who'd been around the three of them for any amount of time. She was a little sad when Eis decided to leave home to travel with her new fiances, and in time joined Blythe Belladonna and her dragon to form the Four Colors, since she'd hoped that maybe they could make up for all the lost time she wasted mooning after her husband. At least she still had Nu, the dwarf brothers, and the rest of her beloved staff for companionship, and Sharna lived close to home, and she got to vicariously experience Eis's adventures through her frequent messages.

However, when Eis at last met Briar's mother, Grandmaster Freyla Rose, Sheva found herself feeling more than a little out of sorts. Eis's messages RAVED about how amazing the Grandmaster was and how beautiful and kind and wise and funny and strong she was and how she'd be an amazing stepmom and she was so so looking forward to being a part of her family and how she'd already started calling her 'Mom' and Sheva...

Was jealous.

VERY jealous.

Sure, she knew that she'd been perhaps a bit distant over the last few centuries thanks to Jackaday, but surely she wasn't such a terrible mother that she'd immediately accept another one, even if that other was as close to perfection as Freyla Rose...right?

Mu tried to entice her into bed to make her forget about this and told her it was all in her head, but predictably, Sheva didn't listen.

She started trying to make more time for Eis. Showing up out of the blue. Helping her on an adventure or two. Showering her and her fiances with gifts. Arranging for Eis to perform before the Frozen Throne. Helping her hook up with some of her longtime heroes and crushes.

She was baffled as to why Eis started to look as if she dreaded seeing her or why Nu started banging her head on the wall. Sharna delicately tried to tell her she was coming off as overbearing, which she dismissed out of hand.

And then Eis announced that they'd set a wedding date. Sheva immediately insisted that they should marry on the family estate, as was custom, pulling out the extremely extensive wedding plans Eis had made over the last several hundred years. Denari thought that sounded great, Eis looked embarrassed, and Briar...

Hesitantly admitted that she'd always assumed she'd get married back home.

Sheva insisted that no, it had to be here, and when Eis started to say she'd be okay with getting married in the Roselands, Sheva, fearing she was losing her daughter to the Other Mother, snapped, they had a big ugly row, with Eis yelling about how it was only NOW her mother could be bothered to care about her after all her time wasted with her father and she wasn't her baby anymore, and nobody left happy.

Briar decided to call her mother.

Shortly after, while a sobbing Sheva was wallowing in bed with Nu, the most incredible woman she'd ever met - even more than the Frozen Throne! - asked if they could talk. She also said neither of them needed to get dressed and Nu could stay if she wanted, which she did.

In the presence of the Grandmaster, Sheva's jealousy melted away, and she miserably admitted she'd made a fool of herself and driven her daughter away forever. Freyla assured her this wasn't the case, and she wasn't trying to replace her in Eis's eyes, nor was Eis trying to replace her. She still very much wanted and needed her mother in her life, but she needed to give her space to further grow into the amazing woman she was willing to call her daughter, and was more than happy to share her, just as she was fine with Briar calling Sheva 'mom.'

Also she'd brought her a special eyepatch because she thought it would make her look like a pirate.

Heart melting, Sheva apologized for everything, though she admitted she still wished Eis could get married at home. Freyla cheerfully said that was easy, she'd just use spatial magic to temporarily make their domains overlap so their daughters could be married at both their homes!

Sheva felt her jealousy rising again.

(On a side note, Carrion attempted to assert her dominance over Nu. The vampire crushed the harpy with such overwhelming gratuitous violence and brutality that she eagerly presented her throat and called her mistress.)

Design:

Ever since she was rescued by the Rose family, and got Nu as a bedwarmer/lover, her once unhealthy shade of pale has turned into a more beautiful, almost platinum shade of snow white, with hair looking like actual platinum snow tied into a braid over her left shoulder, a snowflake-flower eyepatch over her right eye given to her by the Grandmaster when the two first met, which has only shined brighter since they started courting, and may shine brighter if the rumors of the Grandmaster considering adding her to her harem are true. The eye patch provides magical protections, enhanced sight, helps improve focus for her magic, and allows her to see and contact her mistress and pet whenever she pleases. An additional red and black flower is in her hair from her stepdaughter, given to her to help further protect her and show her love for her as a second mother.

Her divine milf figure has also improved, with snow white nails with blue spell markings on them. Markings along her chest like raven wings activate whenever she's in trouble and can summon Carrion to defend her should Nu, for whatever reason, be indisposed. The one time a group of people were foolish enough to go after her, the following bloodbath carried out by Carrion was so ferocious and full of love Sheva proceeded to ravage the bird woman for several nights afterwards as thanks.

She has blue makeup on, with some slight fangs showing, a bite mark from her pet to further ensure she can be safe on her neck. Nu also gained a similar bite mark from her mistress.

Light blue kimono with purple sleeves, deep blue trimming and obi. Phylactery containing a drop of Nu's blood that can be used to summon or reconstitute her nestled between her breasts with a blood-red chain wrapped around her neck to keep it from ever leaving her. 

Thigh high light blue stockings, deep blue heels, purple gems on the tips.

Light blue scales on her cheeks, limbs, sides, breasts, hips, and spine. Pointy ears that vaguely look like fins. Two icy horns with branching glittering points. Long scaly dragon tail. A pair of blue-white dragon wings grow from her back, much larger than Sharna's.

Thanks to already being an elf/ice dragon hybrid, Nu's bite caused her to become a yuki-onna as well rather than 'just' a vampire, further elevating her power, prestige, and beauty.

Chapter Text

At one point, there was a demon spirit who wreaked destruction while screaming for a name.

While taking a walk out, Lyta and Pyra saw the spirit, who somehow recognized Pyra and tried to kill her. Lyta, of course, fought this spirit to protect her lover, who she ordered to escape. Unfortunately, while escaping, Pyra found herself captured by the spirit.

Lyta, after discovering this, went to the Four Colors for help, who were at a party celebrating Sheva's formal admission into the Grandmaster's harem. With their combined magical prowess, it didn't take long to open a portal to the realm the spirit had come from, Nu immediately leaping through before anyone else, having always found the smell of Pyra's blood intoxicating.

Meanwhile, Pyra learned her captor was an amalgamation of all her abusers from before she met Lyta, the ones she killed in her rage before becoming Pyra. She was being prepped for the most excruciating torture when Nu arrive like a shining vampire hero and epically did battle with and slayed the demon forever, looking quite sexy while doing it, too, and Pyra was in awe, a blushing gay mess when Nu winked at her.

It seemed like the demon was down for the count, when their master turned up. It turned out the demon had made a pact with a higher level one, the ruler of this realm, to get the power to travel to the mortal plane in order to exact vengeance. Out of amusement, the master decided to possess the demon, giving it a boost in power, and everyone had to team up in order to stop it.

It was a long, grueling, epic animesque battle which many books and adaptations would be written about, and the remnants of this battle echoed even into the reincarnations of humanity eons later, becoming a highly popular anime and manga series.

Afterwards, the demon king, delighted in the amusement this brought, promised he'd be taking a VERY special interest in their world from now on. For now, he would leave them alone, since if the the current generation was this strong, he couldn't wait to see what their successors would be like. As thanks for this battle and the entertainment it gave him, he granted them a stone that held a piece of his power. The price to be paid was simply that one of them, or their kids/students, or SOME successor of theirs, be able to give him a good death. They needn't pay the price until they call upon his power. He left after that, but warned he would not be the last threat they'd face.

After that, everyone checked on Pyra, who was a blushing gay mess at the sight of not only her mistress being a sexy amazon war goddess in battle, but also...Nu.

Nu giggled, suggesting a celebration. At said party, Nu, having gotten permission from Sheva and Lyta, with a sultry wink towards the latter that STRONGLY suggested to Lyta she only asked for permission out of fairness, went over to Pyra and talked with her, suggesting they meet up more often.

They of course ended up fucking that night. And for several nights afterwards.

After that, Pyra confessed to Lyta she thought she might have a second mistress, and Lyta was more than ok with that, but suggested she meet up with Nu to confirm she'd be a good mistress to her.

After that meeting, Lyta also had a collar on.

Chapter Text

"Mom, this is my friend Lyta, Queen of the Amazons! Lyta, this is my mom, Grandmaster Freyla of the Order of the Holy Rose!" Briar eagerly introduced her friend to her mother.

Lyta stared down at Freyla.

Freyla, the most beautiful woman she'd ever met - and she lived in a kingdom almost solely INHABITED by ridiculously beautiful women - looked back up and smiled, filling Lyta's heart with rapture and terror. Despite being much taller, Lyta instinctively felt positively dwarfed by this woman, older than most civilizations, including her own, and stronger than the mightiest Amazon, which was herself.

She felt an urge to prostrate herself before this living god, to bow her head low, to submit herself entirely to her power. If Freyla asked, she would happily forfeit everything, her throne, her friends, her loves, her power, her freedom, solely for the joy of spending the rest of her life in her presence at her feet.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

It took a moment before she realized not only was she already groveling before Freyla, but she'd said all that out loud. Freyla still had a kind smile and a twinkle of amusement in her gorgeous eyes, and Briar looked torn between amusement and embarrassment.

"Oh," Lyta croaked, turning as red as her hair.

"Still, if you're offering so willingly, I have no problem with Amazonia swearing fealty to the Order of the Holy Rose," Freyla said. "You need not forfeit a single piece of your sovereignty and authority, unless you truly wish to - and don't immediately say you will, I have no desire to rule the world, simply to establish ties of love and friendship between all nations, though it's plausible my daughter will wind up ruling the world someday."

"Moooom!" Briar complained, embarrassed.

"Come now Briar, we both know it's probably going to happen, so you can spend the rest of your potentially immortal life showering your wives and consorts in your boundless love," Freyla said fondly, ruffling her daughter's hair. "And it'll let me retire finally."

"But not for a reaaaaally long time, right?" Briar asked anxiously.

"Of course not, Briar," Freyla assured her. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." She glanced back at Lyta. "Now, Lyta, I believe you and my daughter slept together recently?"

"She ASKED me to top her!" Lyta insisted frantically. "Her wives said it was okay! They even watched!"

"That's perfectly all right, my daughter is more than comfortable enough in her power to let those she trusts and truly loves take the lead now and then, as am I," Freyla said, giving Lyta all sorts of interesting ideas that made her flush and sweat and tremble. "And I suppose she is following in my footsteps as well...I've slept with most of your immediate ancestors, you know, and a few of them still live lives of utter bliss and contentment in my harem."

"Wh-what?! But I thought they ventured off into the unknown to die gloriously rather than stand in the way of the younger generation or fade away into obscurity!" Lyta stammered.

"Mmm, yes, they WOULD say that," Freyla said in amusement. "And I suppose they do die a sort of glorious death quite regularly. Would you care to meet any of them? Your mother is still here. She's been following your adventures with interest. And if you're going to take after the rest of your ancestors and join my daughter's harem, well..." She smiled. "It might give you an idea of what to expect."

Lyta's heart was practically leaping into her throat. "I...I would like that very much," she said faintly.

"Wonderful!" Freyla said, putting a hand on her shoulder and filling her with bliss. "And along the way we can discuss the futures of our kingdoms. And what sorts of things I expect you to do for my daughter. And to her."

"MOOOOOOM!" Briar shrieked.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

When Briar was a little girl Denari was of course her bestest best friend but they had another bestest best friend named Marnie, another silver-eyed girl, like most of the elite of the Roselands. Due to their sheer power, resilience, and ability, they start training 'em young, and Marnie was already planning to be Briar's bodyguard/girlfriend when she grew up and then they'd get married with Denari too and go on all sorts of adventures and save the world and love each other forever and ever.

And then she died.

The silver-eyed people drew a great deal of power from the moon, and a total lunar eclipse left them at their weakest, allowing an assassin to infiltrate the Grandmaster's palace and attempt to slay Briar to prevent all the prophecies about her from coming to pass. Marnie took the blow meant for her princess, and Briar's screams roused her mother and Carrion, who slaughtered the interloper. The blade had been super poisoned and cursed, and since her immune system was at its weakest from the eclipse, Marnie died before any healer was recovered enough to help her.

This was Briar's first experience with loss and grief and death, and at Marnie's funeral she vowed that one day she would conquer death itself so that nobody should have to experience this tragedy ever again, a promise which stayed with her as she grew up and became the hero she was meant to be, and was part of the reason she became friends with Blythe and Salem.

However, there were times Briar felt a...presence. A familiar one. It felt stronger when she was in the middle of a fight or in a very dangerous situation, and the few times she was seriously injured she thought she saw a silver-eyed shadow by her side, but by the time she recovered it was gone.

And then one night, during another full eclipse, disaster struck. While at her weakest Briar was still stronger than most, she was still closer to mortal than she was used to, and so when they were ambushed by very powerful and well-prepared assassins she was mortally wounded and it seemed as if she would die...

And then the silver-eyed shadow manifested, slaughtered all the cutthroats, and embraced the dying Briar, telling her she was the only one who decided when she died.

And Briar realized that Marnie had never left her.

As her friends frantically healed her, Marnie - or rather, Muerte - explained that her devotion to Briar was so great that even in death she was still protecting her as an angel of death. Briar didn't quite understand how that worked but Muerte explained that she was bound to reap Briar's soul when her time came...but thanks to her oath of service she'd do that only when she damn well WANTED to, and since she didn't want to, she never would.

(Blythe thought this was super-romantic.)

Unfortunately, as a death elemental, that meant Muerte could only truly manifest when Briar was close to death, meaning she could only rarely interact with her, which both of them were very sad about...

Until Denari pointed out that sex was sometimes called the 'little death,' soooooo...

After an extremely vigorous and heartfelt 'reunion' between the trio, Blythe promised to begin working on a way for Muerte to be visible and corporeal in times other than when Briar was on the brink of death or the throes of passion or whatever other semantic loopholes they could come up with, to everyone's delight, except possibly a rather jealous Eis's.

Unfortunately, she never got the time to finish, and in the end, even Muerte's vows weren't enough to spare Briar from her fate.

Design:

Her face is a rather sexy-looking skull covered in Mexican-esque scrimshaw and patterns which make it more colorful, fearsome, and beautiful. She can take it off to reveal an equally beautiful dark-skinned human face, also covered in skull face paint like she's as the Day of the Dead or something. Gleaming silver eyes. Curly black ash hair with a black rose in it. One skull earring and one rose earring. Wears a hooded black cloak that swallows up all light and has swirly shadowy smoke wisps coming from the bottom with a rose-shaped clasp.

Under cloak is a rather voluptuous, well-toned body covered in/made of black matter similar to her cloak but more solid with glow-in-the dark bone armor mimicking a human skeleton clinging very flatteringly to her form, also colored in scrimshaw and colorful patterns. Rose blooming where her heart would be. Wields a badass scythe that can be split into a pair of kamas or converted into a double-ended blade. Most of the patterns resemble brambles and flowers and skulls and power icons as well as the names of all the souls she's reaped to protect Briar. There's a LOT of them and she has little intention of letting them pass on anytime soon. The sounds of their screams are very soothing to her.

(Denari once asked why there weren't nearly as many names of people who'd tried to kill her and Muerte pointed out that Denari's a homunculus so even harder in some ways to permanently put down than Briar so didn't need as much protection, and more people go after Briar anyway because she's more important than any of them, which Denari wholeheartedly agreed with. Eis also asked if Muerte had killed anyone for her and was incensed when Muerte bluntly said no.)

Chapter Text

Twin sisters Jasper and Lapis Rania were, like most citizens of the Southern Isles, both native or migrants, incredibly loyal to the Belladonna family, who'd ruled the archipelago for millennia with kindness and wisdom since the founding of their dynasty. They had an especially good reason to revere them, since without them they wouldn't even be alive.

Their mother had once been a notorious pirate known as 'Little Miss Murder,' who had pillaged the seas for ages before karma finally caught up to her and she found herself scuttled, betrayed, and drifting out to sea. She was picked up by a Southern naval patrol weeks later starving, dehydrated and on the bring of death, and brought before the Belladonna family after being revitalized and presented with an offer: she could work for them as a privateer, smuggler, and trafficker, using her talents for the good of the isles, or she could walk out the nearby door.

Said door opened onto a pit, which they informed her of beforehand, meaning that if she decided to die it would be her choice.

Naturally she chose life, and soon found herself genuinely coming to love her new home and the people in it, and thus was eternally grateful to the Belladonnas for granting her a second chance, and made sure her daughters never forgot to respect or be grateful to them for it.

Sadly, when the plague struck, their mother was one of the thousands who perished, and the twins might have joined her had not Blythe Belladonna, thrust onto the throne far too soon, concocted a cure using methods that were in defiance of the Orthodoxy's rules on 'allowed' magic. Owing her their lives twice over, the sisters quickly joined the growing and no longer unofficial royal cult, which had been building behind the scenes for many years now as dissatisfaction with the church and the Brothers grew.

Unsurprisingly, they were more than willing to volunteer for Blythe's experiments to try and become more than human, so that they would never need to fear any plague or illness ever again, among other benefits. It worked perfectly and they became even more gorgeous spider women, choosing to rename themselves Jasperania and Lapisilk.

They had always been great seamstresses, but now they were weavers of legend, creating fashions that took the isles by storms, stunning moving tapestries that detailed incredible tales, spun into life adorable little spider-dolls that were children and toys and assistants and lovers all in one, and even began to glimpse the fabric of the Tapestry of Fate itself. As such, it didn't take long before they became their queen's soothsayers and in charge of Blythe's wardrobe. It was they who suggested Blythe create a dragon when she was finally ready to deal with the minotaur in her dungeon, they who hinted Blythe might make a new ally if she offered her assistance to Eis Jedais, and they who encouraged her to reach out to the Order of the Holy Rose though she didn't need much encouragement for that one since she'd already been considering it.

Even so, it caught them completely by surprise when Blythe decided to make them her concubines.

More tragically, in the end, they also did not foresee how poorly their mistress's rebellion against the gods would turn out.

Design:

Jasperania Rania is a very beautiful young (or young-looking) spider woman. Very pale, almost white skin, most of which is covered in yellow chitin studded with green jewels and lines resembling malachite, with long, dainty claws and a slender, very curvy figure. Chitin covers the backs of her limbs, her shoulders, her sides, her back, and frames her face. Feet end in natural heels but can also split apart to form eight spider legs, cyan ribbons wrap around them. Four slender, graceful spider legs extend from her back linked by chains and long cyan streamers. Eight green eyes and lips with poisonous fangs. Lustrous straight waist-length black hair. Claw marks on left cheek to show she's been claimed by Blythe. Cyan feathers and malachite clip in hair.

Cyan and white dress hugging her body with flared knee-length skirt with scalloped ends with green piping to resemble a spider's web. Dress is made from her webbing, naturally. Elbow-length white gloves with scalloped ends. Webbing patterns over her breasts. Malachite set into belt with chains draping from it and attaching to bangles on her wrists and web wings growing from the back. White and cyan pauldron on left shoulder with malachite stone and spider mark on her right. Collar around neck with malachite stone engraved with Belladonna family emblem and thin chains clinging to the top of her dress. Malachite set into forehead like a ninth eye. Malachite tiara with white and cyan webbing veil hanging down the back of her head. Little legs with spinnerettes growing from the sides of her head can weave a web blindfold when she feels a vision coming on.

Lapisilk Rania is a very beautiful young (or young-looking) spider woman. Very pale, almost white skin, most of which is covered in blue chitin studded with green jewels and lines resembling malachite, with long, dainty claws and a slender, very curvy figure. Chitin covers the backs of her limbs, her shoulders, her sides, her back, and frames her face. Eight legs which can merge together to form a standard pair with natural heels with red ribbons wrapped around them. Four slender, graceful spider legs extend from her back linked by chains and red streamers. Eight green eyes and lips with poisonous fangs. Lustrous straight waist-length black hair. Claw marks on right cheek to show she's been claimed by Blythe. Red feathers and malachite clip in hair.

Red dress hugging her body with short multilayered fluffy frilly skirt with intricate black lace resembling a spider's web. Dress is made from her webbing, naturally. Elbow-length black gloves with frills at the ends. Webbing patterns over her breasts. Black sash around waist with large bow. Black and red pauldron on right shoulder with malachite stone and spider mark on her left. Beautiful malachite and lapis necklace with spider legs and cat claws and eye gems with fine chains dangling to connect to anklets. Collar around neck with malachite stone engraved with Belladonna family emblem. Malachite set into forehead like a ninth eye. Malachite tiara with red and black webbing veil hanging over her face. Little legs with spinnerettes growing from the sides of her head can weave a web mask when she feels a vision coming on.

Chapter Text

"Excuse me? Can you help me, please?"

Glinda turned around and smiled at the very beautiful blond walking towards her, seeming utterly lost. "Oh, certainly! How can I assist you?"

"I've been assigned quarters and a lab here in the palace, but I've gotten all turned around and have no idea where I should be going. Can you please help me?" the woman pleaded, holding out a slip of paper.

Glinda read the address on the slip and smiled. "Oh, I know where that is! It's actually just down the hall from my own quarters and lab."

"Oh, you're a sorceress here too?" the woman asked in surprise as Glinda started leading her through the halls of the Rose palace. "I mean, you certainly look the part, but I didn't want to assume."

Glinda chuckled. "Guilty! I'm known as the Good Witch Glinda-"

The blond gasped. "Hang on, the Good Witch-"

"Glinda, yes." Glinda smiled. "I take it you're a fan?"

"That's understating things! I was raised on the theorems you and your mentor Dani Promenade postulated!" she said excitedly.

Glinda blushed, sensing her mentor's amused pride through their familiar bond. "You give me too much credit, she did most of the work, I just showed up at the end."

"Showed up at the end? You completed her great work after she was no longer able to!" the blond insisted. "An inspiring story right out of the Good Witch Luzura!"

Glinda's eyes lit up. "You're a Luzura fan too?"

The blond nodded eagerly. "Oh, absolutely! My mother used to read them to me when I was younger, and...for a long time afterwards, they were one of my only comforts," she said wistfully. "Those books got me through some really dark times, you know."

Glinda smiled, gleeful to find a kindred spirit, especially one so pretty. "Do you have a favorite?"

The blond shook her head. "Oh no, how could I choose? I love them all so much! Not just the originals, but the later books you put out!"

"Really? There's quite a few fans who claim I've ruined the franchise," Glinda shyly admitted.

"Of course they are, they hate anything new," the blond said scornfully. "They hated every new book back when Promenade was writing, only to defend it vociferously whenever another one comes out. I LOVE the additions you've made to the canon, you really write as if you know the characters inside and out!"

"Well, they were some of my best friends growing up too," Glinda confessed. "Plus, you know, I did have a bit of experience with fanfiction."

"Fanfiction...I didn't even know what that was until I...left home," the blond said hesitantly. "I come from a...distant country, lacking many of the amenities of more advanced nations, or even the awareness of those amenities. I thought my...partner and I were the strongest around, but when I left to see the wider world I realized there was so much more out there than I had ever imagined, or thought to just be fairy tales."

"Oh, they are fairy tales," Glinda said. "Real ones. This is a world of magic, after all!"

The blond chuckled. "That it is! Wow, I can't believe I'm really getting to meet you...and we're going to be neighbors, and I guess colleagues!"

Glinda grinned. "I guess so! What did you seek the Grandmaster for patronage for?"

"I'm going to kill the gods."

Glinda almost missed a step. "I-I'm sorry, did you say-"

"I'm going to kill the gods," the woman repeated, completely serious. "They took my Ozma from me. Multiple times. And then cursed me with immortality, believing it to be a punishment. Well, if I can't die to be with him, then I'm going to make sure they pay."

"...You're Salem," Glinda realized in astonishment and awe. "You...I've heard about you! You're really immortal?! I mean, I've met a lot of people who could come close, due to agelessness or seemingly endless lifespans or regenerative power, but..."

"I'm the real deal," Salem said, not quite bragging. "I've tried every form of death I could think of, even total disintegration. I recover every time."

"...That's amazing," Glinda whispered in awe. "If we could replicate that...!"

"We would at last be free of the greatest cruelty the gods have inflicted on us," Salem confirmed. "I will be helping the Grandmaster's best mages try to figure out ways to duplicate my immortality, or at least devise weapons to use against the divine. They are incredibly mighty, but they are fallible. They aren't all-knowing. They can be tricked. And if that's the case..."

"Then they can be defeated," Glinda finished, amazed. "It's almost impossible to imagine. A world without gods, where we are all free to choose our own fates...that is a fantasy worth striving for!"

She smiled and extended a hand. "And I'll be happy to help you make it come true."

Salem smiled and shook her hand. "Quite a few other people have made that same offer, and I am grateful for all of you. I look forward to working with my favorite author."

Glinda started blushing. "And I look forward to working with a fan like you! And one so pretty at that..."

They both blushed.

"So, you probably get this a lot," Glinda said, changing the subject. "But did you ever try necromancy-"

"Not enough of his body left and they won't let me speak to his spirit."

"Bastards!"

"I know, right?"

Chapter Text

"What was freedom like?"

Carrion gave Fanglon a confused look from inside her large gilded cage. "Free? Carrion is not free. Carrion slave of Mistress! Happily so."

"Yes, so am I," Fanglon told the harpy. "But you weren't always. I was created to serve and love my mistress, which I do wholeheartedly, much like Denari. I neither desire nor can conceive of such a thing as freedom. For me, the only equivalent is death, since setting me 'free' would kill me. But you had a life before the cage. I have asked many who are bound what freedom was like, and few have the same answer. What did it mean to you?"

Carrion considered, her wide bloodshot eyes staring into the blue sky over her cage. "Freedom..." she murmured. "Carrion could fly wherever she wanted. Go anywhere. Kill anyone. Feast on the dead and dying."

"And do you miss it?" Fanglon asked curiously.

Carrion glanced at the chain locking her to her perch, at the walls of her cage. "...Could fly anywhere," Carrion admitted wistfully. "But nest was cold. Empty. Always hungry. Always..."

"Lonely?" Fanglon suggested.

Carrion scratched her hair with a talon. "Carrion didn't know what loneliness was until surrounded by others. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Fanglon said.

"Carrion miss skies," Carrion confessed. "But Carrion would miss Mistress more." She blushed. "So powerful...so beautiful...so ruthless and unstoppable! Carrion loves things Mistress does to her! Pleasure, punishment, such exquisite torture, Carrion loves it! Hopes Mistress kills Carrion one day and makes it as agonizing as possible! Mistress promised!"

Fanglon considered this. "I don't think I'd mind if Mistress killed me," she admitted, blushing.

Carrion nodded rapidly. "Yes yes! Fanglon understands! Also...if free, Carrion never meet Briar. Briar call Carrion 'bird mom.' Nobody call Carrion mother before! Never be mother. Always ate eggs. So tasty!"

"...Right," Fanglon said after a moment. "A mother...that's something else I have no experience with. I was created by Mistress, which I suppose technically makes her my mother, but most mothers and daughters don't have the kind of relationship we do. Well, I suppose some demons, but..."

Carrion cackled, hacking up a bone. "Silly dragon! Dragon has mother. Mistress!"

Fanglon looked confused. "Mine or yours?"

"Mine!" Carrion said proudly. "Mistress is Briar's mother. Views you all as children too!"

"She does?" Fanglon asked in surprise.

Carrion huffed. "You not notice?"

"I told you, I've never had a mother, and don't know what that's like!" Fanglon said defensively, reviewing all of her interactions with Grandmaster Rose in a new light. Her as a mother? That thought was far from displeasing.

"And if Mistress is dragon's mother, so is Carrion!" Carrion said proudly.

Fanglon blinked. "Huh?"

"Mistress is Briar's mother. Mistress is YOUR mother. If Carrion is Briar's bird Mom, that makes her yours as well!" Carrion said eagerly.

Fanglon thought about this. She wasn't entirely sure that made sense, but then again, her mistress hadn't made her for her brains, so she decided not to question it too much. "You're my mother."

"Yes!" Carrion asserted.

"You're...my mother," Fanglon repeated.

"Yes yes!"

"You're my mother!" Fanglon exclaimed, reaching through the bars and hugging Carrion.

"Yesh!" the harpy grunted. "And Carrion love daughters forever! Never abandon or eat them! Mistress would never forgive! Carrion want to die at her hands, but not that badly!"

"Yeah," Fanglon croaked, starting to tear up. "Only a really shitty heartless bitch would do that, and you're not that! Probably."

Carrion preened at this, and then started literally preening Fanglon's hair. Fanglon usually only let her mistress touch her hair, but found she didn't mind this that much.

Thousands of years later, Fanglon and Carrion's reincarnations met for the first time. Both came away from it dissatisfied and feeling like something was missing.