The Afterglow of a Hellbat

The water in the fountain had boiled to steam. The room's walls were painted in the grit of what remained of the furniture, and gave a dark impression of the room as seen through the slowly cooling mists. Though it was surely illuminated, John felt he was lying in the dark alongside the burning form of his newest wife. The stones beneath them were hard, and the ash did little for the comfort of his body, but he wanted to stay as long as she would permit it, there on his side and hugging her to him. Flames cooled to skin underneath his grip. He struggled to make out her features, now that they had returned mostly to flesh, but he could see the whites of her eyes, almond-shaped and unreadable, and the faintest hint of a smirk. The face in the fire had become the face in the steam, and perhaps the absurdity of their union is what made her docile now.

Tara Newman / Shvoorrf Newman
Level 11 Evoker / Level 9 Hellfire Elemental
989/989hp
0/402mp
Status Effects: None
Relationship: +1

Docile, but not yet forgiving. He leaned in for a kiss. She saw no reason to forbid it. She tasted of cinnamon and smoke, and he managed to ignore his pop-ups for now.

Twenty minutes later...

Achievement unlocked! "Soul to Soul"!
You connected to someone spiritually, an act only ever made in complete confidence or complete accident. This is unnatural, beautiful, dangerous.
+3 WIS
+5,000XP

"So you will let me out, right?" From inside the dim lighting of the Forge, the sunlight of the courtyard let her cut a stern silhouette for John. Tara put her hands on her hips, and gave him as authoritative a pose as a gorgeous, naked woman could after sleeping with him.

That is to say, quite convincingly.

"Yes... but we have to set you up far and away from my home. I can't involve my house-"

"That's fine," she continued to lecture, checking her nails in disinterest. "I scoped out a second safehouse in case the first one became endangered... like if the Artificer who made that barrier was suddenly executed." She finally deigned to look at her master. "Y'know, just a random example."

John refused to take the bait, and continued to scroll through clothing options. "We'll go there together-"

"This didn't mean anything, you know."

A silence hung between them. John smiled. "You don't ever have to sleep with me if you don't want to, Tara. I won't you ever again."

"Of course not. I mean... you don't really have to when you want your way, do you?"

He yearned to know her thoughts... but the risk of being detected- Wait... I don't even know if that's how this works... This isn't the , god damn it, and it's not like she's got detect magic or anything like that! Quietly and motionlessly, as he always could, he shot off read mind and targeted her.

There's just no one left. Sensei is dead, the Cabal would sooner kill me, and I've got no way to get to the Kingdoms... but if I did... Mari? Would she take me into her court, or make me live in the pits? I could do her a favor...

There was shockingly little emotion inside the thoughts of John's firebrand wife, and certainly no outrage from his plucking of her thoughts. He pushed her stream of thoughts to the side when he finally found it.

"Sundiver's dress!"

"What?" She looked at him as he stared at the strange, virtual interface he had manifested.

He summarized as he read. "The dress itself has magical immunity to fire and heat... or at least it claims to, not sure it could literally dive in the sun. But besides that, it grants the user 50 points of the same damage resistance... not that you'd even need that... still! Point is, it won't disintegrate just because of your body." He omitted the cost as he read it, thinking it largely unimportant: 2,000 soul gems, most of them as replacements to all manner of fiery essences and lava monster parts that he knew he didn't have time to hunt for the sake of getting poor Tara some clothes.

"... What the Hell do you even mean, 'points'?"

"Ah... sorry, I'm... well, a Gamer. Eh, The Gamer, I guess. I see magic and fighting and all that as a kind of video game: everyone has HP, spells cost MP, they do damage-"

What kind of immature stupid ass did I get taken by? "You're making fun of me, now? Like this is one big game to you?"

"I'm not! Honest! I only just got this power four days ago... I didn't even know magic was real until then-"

Tara was silent... on the outside. Four... days? A four-day-trained mage took out Talon, killed Dell, and kidnapped me? The Extinction Kings hired a four-day mage? Maybe I'm not great at reading people, but if he really is telling the truth- no, he can't be telling the truth! This boy can use correspondence spells without me detecting them, and he wants me to believe that he's some kind of G.E.D.-having Merlin?! He can't be serious!

"... Hey... Tara." She shifted positions as she brooded. "I can make this dress look like anything, as long as it takes the full body slot."

"Slots, now?"

"N-Nevermind, just... how do you want this dress to look? It can be anything you can wear, and I'll make it!"

"I swear... how long will that take, then?"

John looked again at the description. "Doesn't say, so... maybe a few seconds?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I mean to make it, smartass, not to put it on. Besides, I need plain clothes too, unless you want me to have an Order breathing down my neck all day out there."

"That's..." John sighed, frustrated with her disbelief, here in his insane mind temple of all places. "Just picture a dress you've always wanted to wear into combat, and we'll get you some regular clothes later."

She tsked, but it was an effortless thought that leapt to the front of her mind: it was her favorite dress, one she had bought after pulling off her first string of thefts and petty burglaries... and one that got burned and ruined within a week. It was a knot of teenage angst and regret, and perhaps that's why the image of it blasted so clearly into John's mind worn not by her, but some stranger that must've modeled it. As a black cross-neck dress, the fabric was sheer enough to leave little to the imagination beyond the details of the model's nipples, leading down to cross again in the torso and create the illusion of an hourglass with the bare skin of the wearer's cleavage and midriff. The entire thing was a single piece, and it took a moment to realize that those huge ribbons blossomed towards the end to sow into the topmost hem of the split skirt below. In the right pose, it was beautiful and elegant with the tiny rubies that dotted its hems... and in a better pose, it was a lovely, slutty number. Mobile for combat, John corrected himself, trying to focus on utility.

"OK, now what-"

Craft successful! You've received 1 x sundiver's dress.
Craft is now level 11!

Achievement unlocked! "Soul Eater"!
You've consumed or used over 1,000 soul gems for something other than trade! You'd be in good company in the Republic of Chains.
+2 END
+1,000XP

John lifted the neatly folded dress from the tailor's table. Like with Fairy, he knew it would already be a perfect fit and would match the stated attributes. "There. Just put this on wherever you'd like and um... what?"

Tara slowly approached the dress in his arms with wide eyes, and she carefully plucked it by the shoulders to let it unfurl. "That's... this is..."

"I... I made it by the image in your mind- I mean, but it'll fit you perfectly, or at least it should-"

"How did you... do this?" She continued to eye the dress in awe. "It's... I mean I think it's enchanted, but the signature is so faint... I'm holding it and I can't be sure! So it's stealthy too... and you're sure this- well, what am I holding back for?" She seemed mostly engrossed in a one-sided conversation, and John was happy to stand by until she tossed the dress into the air and punched into it with a fiery fist.

Tara used plasma punch for 50mp, dealing 0 fire damage!

"Wh-" John caught himself. Of course she'd want to test his claim.

"Incredible..." She let the smoking dress fall back into her hands. "It's not even warm... and it..." Hastily she stepped into the veiled bottom half of the dress, finding that it was parted in places hidden by folds that would allow her to move comfortably in a hurry. Throwing the upper-half over her shoulders and tightening the straps behind her, she only had to lightly tug on its edges to get them covering her chest perfectly. If memory served, this version fit better than the one she had paid nearly five grand for less than a decade ago. "It's beautiful... and it's... impossible..."

"Yeah, well... if that's a thank you, then-"

"How did you do it?" She took a step towards him, eyes still wide with fascination. "You couldn't have crafted this in an instant, but it would be more absurd to think you could've plucked it out of time or my mind and made it physical... but you can't have guessed right ahead of time, right?"

"R-Right?"

"Well?"

"I can craft things instantly," John slowly explained, "provided I have the right materials, or else enough soul gems to replace them."

Her hands drifted over the fine detail of her veiled thighs, of the various flowers etched in black. But this level of detail... no, this level of enchantment, in an instant? Who the Hell is this kid?! "... Soul gems? Did you have to use any to make this?"

"Eh, yeah... about two-thousand."

"WHAT?!" Everyone in the temple turned at Tara's outburst; even poor Thumalk's sulk was interrupted. "Two thousand?! Two?! Thousand?!"

"Yeah... but I still have another eight thousand, so-"

"You have- what the..." Tara's mind raced, and John was treated to a bevy of facts that had not yet floated to the top. He had ten thousand soul gems? Yarrick's Extinction King bounty, then? That's insane, I didn't think that would even- wait, no, focus here, Tara. Two thousand! The gems still sell for about $8,000 apiece on the Auction, right? No one's crafting is that thirsty... or that fast, but what a price to pay- and eight thousand remaining?! He doesn't even know, does he? Why would he? Jesus motherfucking Christ, he really is a novice! He's spending millions to make me a fucking dress- I could buy one of these today for one damn gem, get it enchanted for maybe a hundred more-

"... Eight thous-?!" The word had slipped out of him the moment he realized her estimate.

Tara's eyes narrowed, and John swallowed. "Excuse me?"

"That's..."

"You did pluck this from my mind..." ... and even now, you're still plucking things from me, aren't you? John almost denied it, and she inhaled deeply. It's f_ne, __u c__'_ ___p _p___g __ __ _h_____s __ _ _______ ____ ____...

Read mind has failed.
Read mind is now level 6!

"How... How'd you do that?!"

"I let my guard down before now, that's all... it's a pretty easy trick to keep your thoughts guarded, if you've had years of training. But don't worry, Master: reading my mind is hardly the worst you've done." She looked down at her dress. "Besides, it is a nice dress, and I will be keeping it... as part of how you'll be making it up to me, just until right's right, right?"

"R-Right..." John felt unsure of what to say, and decided on nothing more. I have to be careful with my debts... but this is fine. "I... need to check on the new rooms in the temple before we go back to the real world, if you'll be alright until then?"

"It's alright," Tara yawned, stretching as she walked out of the Forge. "I haven't had a chance to sleep in days... and a bit more time in here won't kill me, now that we've... come to our agreement." John followed her on foot, still unsure of that agreement. She raised her hand of fire and let it uncoil and enflame, until it became nothing but a pillar of light. The black threads of her dress shimmered, but nothing more. "I want to consider how you might help me from here... and, maybe, how I can help you... but I'd rather talk about that once I'm well-rested, and without worrying about the Cabal finding me after all."

"That's fine. Feel free to use the Sanctuary... erm, once they fix it..."

"John." She put no sarcastic emphasis on it. She turned as her arm reformed and looked at him with a cold, impenetrable stare. Her right fingers tightened, smoothed into effigies of human flesh as perfectly as they could... and there, glowing like a band of blue light, was the ring tattooed onto the very energy of her to match the one on his left. "I remember this... and your fat elf confirmed it."

A scoff could be heard from the reflecting pools at the center of the chamber.

"R-Right... well-"

"I thought I knew what I was dealing with, then... or at least that you knew what you were doing, but now I know you don't have the slightest damn clue about what this or what you probably are. But you stick with me, and help me out...? I'll teach you whatever your mentor doesn't want you to know."

John weighed her offer. She presumed he had a mentor... and perhaps, albeit not yet met, he did thanks to the promise from Lord Brighton. He looked to the collection of rings on his left hand, which seemed to do nothing but give him charisma bonuses and, by the power of his hive tyrant's ring on the ring finger of the same, some control of their opinions of him. If she knows more... I could just order it out of her... "We'll make that deal after you've caught some shut-eye," he finally declared. She nodded, and the two departed in opposite directions: her to the recovering bedroom, and him to the hallway of mysteries he hadn't had the time to look through.