-David Gemmel

The drive to the Abyssal Market in downtown Springfield was surprisingly quiet. Not that Sophia was all that much for small talk to begin with, but there was usually enough going on for something to come up. But, ever since John had emerged from the forge…

"This is masterful engraving. I have imprinted memories of things like this, blades and weapons affixed to claws with magical enhancements, but actually seeing something in person… I can feel the energy radiating from it."

That was all Sophia had said after she finally worked up the nerve to ask John to see the blade herself. From then on, John practically had to escort her out of the Moon Clan's barrier. Thankfully, exiting it was as easy as stepping outside of its boundaries - they didn't seem as interested in keeping people in as out. Sophia even rode with the blade in her lap, eyes flickering between John and the sword, still idly running her fingers across its flat sides, occasionally turning it over or lifting it to inspect one side or the other. Remembering her reaction to John in armor, the Gamer couldn't miss the slight twitching of her legs and the way her thighs grinded together slightly as she pored over the craftsmanship of the mana and the steel alike.

It wasn't until they had parked in one of the garages close to the edge of the market's barrier that John reluctantly took the blade back, stowing it away in his inventory so that the mundanes would not question a woman openly carrying a sword and so as not to anger the Springfield Charter later on. Upon entering the Barrier, John did his best to recall his last time at the market and regain his orientation. The place was slightly less busy than when John had last visited, whether due to time of day or something else. It was still slammed, of course, but at least John could comfortably walk around now without constantly squeezing himself past crowds and stalls.

"This place is quite active. I see many faces that I do not recognize from our fights. Does Springfield really host so many mages from outside the factions we know?"

Sophia's question was innocent enough, but even among the hustle and bustle of those going about their business, those close enough to eavesdrop were quick to focus their attention on John. The Gamer hurried Sophia away, careful to avoid too much attention from the crowd himself, while waiting until they had crossed a large distance before leaning in to speak more softly to the harpy.

"Apparently so. According to Moira this is a pretty big hub for trading among mages - that's why the Springfield Charter gathered enough powerful mages to dissuade anyone from attacking and looting the place. But they don't know us on sight from what I've seen… so keep the fact that we were fighting in the war between us. The less people that know my abilities and our connection to the Order, the better for now."

"I am… unfamiliar with this stealth of yours," Sophia admitted. "Wing markings and territory boundaries were enough to declare allegiances for my ancestors. I have no imprints to guide me on hiding my heritage, but I will try very hard."

Sophia must have taken that to mostly mean remaining quiet, for that is what she did. Fortunately, despite John's bad memory for places and directions, it wasn't difficult to find a store selling ammunition. The hard part was finding one with prices in his range. Numerous weapon stores they passed sold various ammunition. Very few sold the particular caliber that he was looking for, and it wasn't until the fifth store that John entered that he finally found one selling unenchanted ammunition. John did end up purchasing one box of enchanted .308 - a box of 30 rounds that according to his Observe penetrated 50 points worth of Endurance shielding, whatever that meant - but it cost him $15,000 and he had only a few thousand left. Given Seras' penchant for rapid firing thanks to her vampiric speed on the bolt-action, John knew that much ammo would not last long.

So when John eventually found a store selling the mundane version of the ammo for only a few hundred per box, he bought everything they had in stock. He walked away with only a little over a thousand in his pocket but several hundred rounds of .308, enough to last Seras for quite a while now that she had her weapon sighted in.

With his primary objectives for their trip complete, John wanted to check up on Seras and the Nekos at Moira's home, but he couldn't justify calling them after lecturing Sophia on keeping their identities and abilities secret. Not with so many people listening. John ended up wandering for a bit, knowing fully well that with Tricia's penchant for lengthy and exhaustive testing, Mithra would likely be kept in her clutches for at least another hour, far longer than they needed to drive down to the Brighton Manor.

"Anything you'd like to visit? We don't have to meet Seras and the others for a while yet," John asked Sophia, glancing around. They were in an area pretty familiar to John - it was near the jewelry store he'd seen toward the end of their trip, as well as the tea shop that Seras had fallen in love with, but it was several blocks from anything John had a real interest in. Now that he'd fully armored and armed himself, there actually wasn't much he could say he wanted to see… especially since it was all well outside of his price range.

"This place is so new and foreign to me, yet you already seem to enjoy it, and it holds many useful items. Might we walk around for a while yet?"

John was more than happy to oblige Sophia. It gave him a chance to really memorize the area around them, to learn the market's layout. He doubted there would ever come a time when he needed to know the place store-by-store, but it was still helpful to know where he was going. Sadly even Tricia's upgrades had not installed a proper Abyssal GPS…

After crawling around the place for nearly half an hour, John realized that they had now passed the same store for the third time, and he was having a hard time remembering what twists and turns they had taken in Sophia's wandering curiosity.

"Alright, I think we can handle the rest of Tricia's testing," John noted, pointing back toward where he hoped he remembered parking their car. "Let's head home. Perhaps we can talk her out of some of her scans."

Sophia nodded, proceeding along with John quite happily.

"Father, may I speak of something that has drawn my attention?"

"Do you mean the sword? I can let you inspect it on the way back, yes," John said with a light chuckle.

"No. It isn't that; there is someone following us."

"Someone following us? Around the market?" John asked, suddenly on edge. Was it one of the Albidians? Or something only slightly less sinister?

"Yes. A woman. She is following us subtly, attempting to avoid detection, but while observing our surroundings I could not help but to notice her constant presence in the background. Have you-"

"Oh, pardon me. I did not see you there."

The words that interrupted Sophia caught John off-guard as he walked into someone almost directly, meeting his shoulder against a very giving midsection. Before he could recover from the contact, a hand wrapped around his forearm and pulled him forward. John braced himself to pry the hand away and try to put some distance between himself and his assailant, but as John aligned himself with his grappler, he realized with a start that he recognized the eyes across from him.

Though the name did not immediately come to mind, the raven hair, lithe figure, and intense eyes of the woman grabbing him all rang an all-too-familiar bell within John's mind. The voice that followed before he could mount a response only furthered that feeling.

"John Newman, wasn't it?" the woman said, her breath coming in haggard gasps despite only having just bumped into him. She spoke quietly but quickly, leaning in and almost whispering in his ear. Even her touch was gentle, caressing, as if a lover who had not felt his soft skin against their own for some time. "I am sorry to approach you so abruptly, but I felt it necessary to warn you… there is a woman following you. Blonde hair, muscular build, an aura that absolutely resonates with mana. I can't say what she wants… but she is trying very hard not to be noticed."

John lowered his arm, already halfway to calling his newly forged blade out of his inventory. Uncertain whether to take his gaze off her or not, John eyed Sophia restlessly. The harpy appeared uncomfortable, but nodded when she saw John's eyes on her.

"It's true, Father. Her description matches the woman I noticed following us. I was about to warn you before she interrupted…"

John nodded, grabbing the woman who had approached him by the forearm, leading her along as he continued his walk as if her interruption was a mere inconvenience.

"I appreciate the notice… Layla, was it?"

The woman who John now had a soft grip upon gasped audibly, her body shivering ever so slightly. John felt something shift in the air, as if an aura around them had transitioned merely by contact. The woman never glanced away, never let her gaze waver. Her raven locks sat stoically upon her back as she met John's eyes with an excited fervor.

"Yes, it's Layla. Layla Viorica, actually. I apologize for my abruptness… I noticed this woman following you before, when I ran into you at the Teajuvenation store, but I had assumed she was your bodyguard. It was only after I- after I noticed her this time that I realized she was trailing you without your consent. I'm sorry if you were already aware, but I cannot disable my abilities. To sense her trailing you so repeatedly without you seeming to notice was-"

"You have no reason to apologize. Please, come with me," John assured the woman, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her along as if their meeting were intentional. "Can you really read auras with that much accuracy to know that she's following us?"

"As if she were in lock-step behind us," Layla assured John, nodding furiously. "Since I felt her presence the last time we spoke as well, I can determine her position within three decimeters, if you need precision."

"That sounds wonderful," John noted, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder.

"Now… let me know when we're separated from the rest of the market. I want to confront my shadow."

Layla's trips to Teajuvenation had never been so boring as they had lately. How could they be? The entire point of her visits to the shop were based around the idea of occupying her ever-wandering thoughts, the idea of relaxation assuring her that being there would grant her the peace and sanctity to focus on her latest task, whether that be a personal one or such as directed by the ever-present Firesmith instructors.

Yet ever since she had encountered the young mage known as John Newman, she had been unable to focus, even in the once solemn halls of her favorite tea shop. That night when she had gone to Tess, felt the warm arms of her lover wrapped around her waist, all that Layla could imagine were how much different those arms would feel if they were wrapped in that overpowering aura. How much she would miss even the fantasy of that mana smothering her, covering her body and slowly tucking her in as she faded into the realm of dreams and lost memories.

When Layla had awoken the following morning, she wasn't entirely sure what she was more ashamed of. Her reaction to a stranger's aura or the fact that she had allowed such a delectable feeling to fade away from her without a proper fight. Layla had been a student at Firesmith Academy for years, and prior to that she had been a proper mage for several more. In all her time of tutelage and tutoring, in and out of classes, both in and out of her now quite lengthy relationship with Tess… Layla had never felt such a strong stimulation from any other mage. Never had she tasted such a delectable aura. Never had she dreamed that she could attain such pleasure from the mere presence of…

Layla let her thoughts wander off again as her legs began to quake, trying to dull and distract herself from the urges of her own body. The cup in her hands shivered with her desires, threatening to spill over as each moment subjected her mind and form to another wave of overwhelming lust. Through her time at the Academy and on the front lines of a supposed "independent" within Springfield's chaotic Abyss, Layla had been subjected to many forms of alleged **** and interrogation, mostly in the name of building stronger and more resilient forces. But nothing had ever worn on Layla's mental well-being so much as having willingly let that man go.

Perhaps that was one of the main factors - or even the entire reason - that Layla felt such an immediate pressure in her lower abdomen when that familiar, delicious aura wormed its way into her senses.

Although Layla had only tasted such a succulent source of mana once before, the feeling of it was imprinted on her memory forever. She sensed it coming from far beyond the range she had felt it the first time. So far away, at first, that she thought she might have imagined it. Layla had awoken in a cold sweat often in the past week and a half, her body out of sync with her mind and certain that the source of her lusty dreams was far nearer than he truly was. In spite of having accepted that she would likely never feel that innate resonance to her lusts again, Layla's mind was clinging desperately to the feeling of that succulent aura rubbing and grasping against her own.

So when Layla felt a sensation not unlike a warm and firm hand passing over her abdomen, she immediately assumed her mind was wandering and playing tricks on her again. She shook her head violently, resting her chin on the table in front of her. Layla's eyes glazed over, staring blankly at the electronic tablet in her hand as she tried to tune out both the outer world and her inner desires all at once.

The initial suppression was more than successful. Layla's eyes passed dully over the research information in front of her on the countering of holy incantations and the bypassing of celestial barriers, slowly beginning to mentally regurgitate the information. But the further she read, the more the information seemed to pass before her gaze without any proper recognition. A lesser student would have simply assumed the exceedingly boring text was taking its toll on her mental state.

But Layla, a fully graduated Firesmith student, one who had excelled in every class she did not outright bypass, was no lesser student. She was familiar with her own studying habits as well as her mental limitations, and she had reached neither. What she had very apparently reached were the limits of her body, and she didn't have to ponder long on why. The shortness of her own breath despite sitting idly at a desk in a relaxed café, the sweat drops beading on her forehead, the tapping of her foot growing more and more insistent despite her normally calm demeanor… something had disturbed Layla.

Something that was growing closer by the moment..

By Gaia," Layla whispered, the words escaping her before she could consider who might be around her, "he's back."

Layla turned toward the approaching aura with such speed that her neck cracked in mid-swing. Caught so off-guard by the presence, she embraced the exquisite feelings coursing through her body without a second thought. Now that Layla was actively attuning herself, it was no longer possible for her to ignore the more subtle signals her body had been pulsing through her for the past several minutes. The aura approaching her was too distinct to miss - never had Layla faced such a satisfactory pulsing of mana, never had she desired so wholly to pull an aura tightly to her, to welcome it inside of her, to smother it with her love and affection and tear apart anything that ever threatened it, including her foolish masters and-

Layla only just had enough conscious will to shake herself free of destructive lines of thought. The fact that the aura had already passed by the tea shop and was slowly beginning to fade into the distance again had something to do with it as well. Layla was halfway to the door before she realized she was moving, her body reacting unconsciously to the fading aura that had ignited the embers still blazing since the last time she'd felt its irreplaceable throbbing.

"John…" the name echoed in her mind as she paused in the middle of the café, trying to will herself back towards her private table, "how do you do this to me?"

Layla edged herself slowly back toward her table over the next several minutes, only to find herself drifting toward the door again when the aura came back by on a second pass. Layla nearly crossed the threshold this time, only a few feet from the doorway when that familiar aura started to creep away once more. When John's delectable mana began to seep through the Teajuvenation shop's doorways for the third time, Layla ceased all attempts to resist the calling of her body and strode confidently through the glass doors.

But although her body may have won out in her battle for self-control, Layla had never been a foolish mage, nor a poor student. With her mind so utterly focused on the uniquely decadent aura of one John Newman, she still could not possibly miss the flavors and styles of aura that followed behind it. No matter how often John passed by the tea shop, and no matter at what speed, two auras had always accompanied him. One by his side, ever present and never hesitating, and another further behind. The second one lagged at various distances, always close but never at hand.

So as Layla stepped free from the store, her mind was alight with possibilities. Given what she had witnessed during her last approach, it seemed unlikely that this succulently gifted man was aware of his stalker, but even if he were, Layla could always ingratiate herself to him by showing how much she was looking out for him.

Layla's plans were only mildly altered - mostly due to her own annoyance - upon seeing that John was accompanied by yet another woman, this one a dark-haired beauty with a particularly muscular figure. The taller woman was well beyond even most smiths at the Academy in terms of her sculpted figure and the way she carried herself, oozing confidence and awareness. More than once as Layla positioned herself in the path of John, she wondered if she had been spotted, but the young man never seemed to alter his path because of anything the taller woman said to him. That only made Layla's task easier as she positioned herself further and further ahead of John, putting just enough distance between them to provide plausible deniability before she moved in to gain John's trust and establish her worth. It proved to be not a moment too soon, and perhaps only a moment too late, as the first words Layla heard on approach were almost identical to how she had imagined her own approach.

"Yes. A woman. She is following us subtly, attempting to avoid detection, but while observing our surroundings I could not help but to notice her constant presence in the background. Have you-"

Layla thrust her shoulder into the source of her focus only a bit harder than necessary, causing the black-haired woman speaking so intently to John to pause as he stumbled a bit from the impact. Layla's arm shot out and grabbed John's both by desire and by polite instinct, steadying him and drawing him ever closer. Her breath hitched in her chest at the feeling of the toned muscles underneath his shirt, the rippling bicep that flowed with mana and blood that both pulsed in Layla’s body. Her mind began to wander, and for just the briefest instant as her eyes met his, Layla began to forget why she had approached the man in the first place except to bask in the glow of his perfect being for just an instant longer.

But though their eyes met with some form of recognition, upon looking deeper Layla realized that John was as lost as she was for how to continue their meeting. Clearing her throat, Layla tried to salvage the moment, hoping she had not come off as **** or as lost as during their first encounter where he had caught her entirely by surprise. Maintaining such a level head was not easy with every fiber of her being throbbing with the need to pin John and proclaim him as her own to the world.

"John, wasn't it?"

As if she could forget the name, as if she could forget the feeling deep in her chest that the man awoke merely by being present. All the same, Layla played their encounter off as calmly as she could. Hoping to encourage him to trust her by exposing herself a little more, Layla leaned in and started to whisper without raising her guard.

"I am sorry to approach you so abruptly, but I felt it necessary to warn you… there is a woman following you. Blonde hair, muscular build, an aura that absolutely resonates with mana. I can't say what she wants… but she is trying very hard not to be noticed."

In addition to what she had seen before, Layla could not possibly mistake the aura following John from what she had sensed before. Nor could such a well trained tracker and aura reader mistake the flash of blonde hair that disappeared behind a nearby stall, even as her eyes passed over the busy streets behind John. The woman with John, the one who Layla had not met before, began to slowly nod as both sets of eyes slowly met her own.

"It's true, Father. Her description matches the woman I noticed following us. I was about to warn you before she interrupted…"

Layla slowly let out the breath she had been holding, trying not to let her nerves be too obvious. Whoever this woman was, she did not appear to oppose Layla's presence, or at least had not noticed the flushed desire running across Layla's face. If she did not claim John as her own, perhaps she would not be an obstacle. If she would not oppose Layla, she could even be useful, were she to…

"I appreciate the notice… Layla, was it?"

Layla's body throbbed, in her chest and somewhere lower, more vulgar, as her name fell across those sweet lips. Her amber eyes locked onto John's mouth as if it were speaking the passphrase to heaven itself, which it may well have been for all the pleasure that coursed through Layla's body at the barest whispering of her name.

"Yes, it's Layla. Layla Viorica, actually. I apologize for my abruptness… I noticed this woman following you before, when I ran into you at the Teajuvenation store, but I had assumed she was your bodyguard. It was only after I- after I noticed her this time that I realized she was trailing you without your consent, or so it seemed. I'm sorry if you were already aware, but I cannot disable my abilities. To sense her trailing you so repeatedly without you seeming to notice was-"

"You have no reason to apologize. Please, come with me," John said quickly, laying his hand upon Layla's shoulder. The first time he had touched her, the first time Layla felt his skin willingly brushing upon her own… between lost moments of ecstasy and disbelief, Layla took the time to thank Gaia that she remained conscious and on her own two feet, which were shaking only slightly as they walked.

Such profound joy passed through her at the barest touch of skin that Layla imagined for a moment that John had imparted some piece of himself unto her. If he had not, the mind was a truly amazing thing, for it seemed to Layla as if her shoulder had been lit with a flame that could not be extinguished, a small part of the light within the man now smoldering within her for all eternity.

"Can you really read auras with that much accuracy to know that she's following us?"

Layla bit her lip slightly, trying to suppress the moan in her voice that nearly arose at John's intense gaze, aware he was focused on their situation but unable to fully convince her mind of such trivial things as necessity.

"As if she were in lock-step behind us," Layla said, praying that somehow John was unaware of how closely she had been following herself the last time she had felt him at the market. "Since I felt her presence the last time we spoke, I can determine her position within three decimeters, if you need precision."

"That sounds wonderful."

Layla wasn't quite sure how it sounded, but she knew it felt wonderful. Knew it felt so because, as John wrapped his arm around her own, she struggled to think of how it could possibly feel more splendid.

"Now… let me know when we're separated from the rest of the market. I want to confront my shadow."

Through the haze of her own desires and the luxurious pleasures she felt at such proximity to her focus, Layla wasn't entirely unaware of the menace behind that statement. For the briefest of moments, Layla reconsidered the original purpose of her approach, of why she had exposed herself to the man. A primal part of her, one that another part of her hated, had done it simply to be closer to him and to feel pleasures that no one else could bestow upon her.

But a deeper part, one that grew louder by the minute, had done it not for pleasure, but for trust. So that John Newman could count on her, could depend on her abilities. That way… that way he could rely on her.

And that way, Layla hummed with an unstable glee, John would eventually seek her out. After all, if she was so useful to such a wonderful man, he couldn't help but to find her when he was most in need, could he? And if John sought her out, how could Layla deny him? And if John were to seek her aid, it wasn't her fault if she should find herself growing closer, was it?

No, Layla thought, it couldn't be. John was too amazing to be denied whatever it was that he wanted.

Especially if that was Layla.