Waking up, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. I fondly remember my first night at the inn, how comfortable the bed was, and how sore my muscles were. Unfortunately, it was the latter as my body rejected any modicum of movement. It was mid-afternoon when we started our… activities, and right now, it was early morning. How many of these hours were spent resting; I had no idea, but judging by my current state – not much. On the bright side, I did manage to actually sleep, and the recurring nightmares were nowhere to be seen.

My body’s mutiny ended as my throat, dry as sandpaper, cried out in indignation. A water pouch, taken out of my inventory and held by a shaking arm, was quickly downed. Sighting in satisfaction, I was finally able to notice the unfamiliar body next to me. However, before I could speak a word, a hand came and snatched the empty container from my hand, and finding it empty – a palm hovered above my chest, fingers making a grabbing motion.

A shriveled pouch later, a satisfied Valeriana was snuggling into my side. Last night’s aftermath plainly visible as we both laid buck naked, her head on my arm, thigh on top of my, and arm firmly gripping my torso. The bond between us relayed a clear sense of content as well as a growing form of embarrassment. Attempting to dissuade the second one, my hand plopped down on her head, my fingers moving, and almost instantly, a deep rumbling resounded – giving me pause.

The halting of my digits was met with a soft whine combined with a bundle of hair and fur being aggressively shoved into them. As the scratching returned, so did the purring. How such a sound was produced was a mystery, but the low vibrations massaging me were definitely pleasant. We sat in comfortable silence, no sound except for the melodic reverbs, but regrettably, it came to an end.

“So, do you wanna talk about what happened yesterday?”

A ting of shame was instantly rose. “It’s... umm… a ritual?” She hesitantly replied. “It’s done by two people who want to be… mated.” Doubts were steadily sprouting. I put more strength in my fingers, reassuring and encouraging her to carry on. “It was the only way to break the seal. I’m sorry if I tricked you. I know you just wanted to be free, but now you-”

My weary body cursed at me, but I paid it no mind, lowering my head, holding her chin, and putting an end to her rambling with a deep kiss. Whatever unease she was feeling vanished as her eyes widened and then closed. Flushed, she nuzzled into my neck, picking up my hand and placing it back on top of her head.

With two heavy patches of fur on my collarbone, she resumed her explanation, a light murmuring heard as she drew each breath – her throat excitedly reflecting her contentment. To summarize, it was an ancient custom, practiced less and less each passing year. Two parties, the mate and the soon-to-be mated. The former would present their neck to their potential partner, and the latter would either lick – affirming their desire to belong and submit or bite, in retaliation.

It was the first time I was consciously aware of how pointy Valeriana’s canines were or how sharp they must be. I wondered whether this was only practiced by the more carnivorous of Beastkin, but shot a confused and offended look, I didn’t press on.

The requirement to annul the seal was for the owner to completely yield to their slave, which, according to her, was only possible in this manner. Once she was done, I finally spoke, “You didn’t force me to do anything. I could have refused if I wanted, and I would still have been freed.”

“I know, and I’m not just a mate.” She replied in a feverish tone followed by a slightly unsettling laugh.

“Well, the relationships I’m used to only included a single partner.”

The purring got louder; I could still hear it as Valeriana spoke, “I don’t care if you want more mates, but I won’t stay silent if you get too many. I’m not ending up like my mom – always crying about how Mother was always busy with someone else.”

“You should rest assured then, I have no plans of getting any more women.” It was the honest truth. I really wasn’t intending on forming a harem. Pleasing one partner was hard enough, let alone multiple, and besides – a single night of romping left me thoroughly worn out, I couldn't imagine what it would be like with more.

My confession was met with a smirk which I duly ignored instead, focusing on the rest of her statement. “I’m confused,” I stated. “What do you mean by mom and Mother?”

For a brief instant, she shared my befuddlement, but understanding quickly dawned on her. “Oh, my mother is a Herma.” Valeriana fidgeted slightly. “She has, you know… one down there.”

The euphemism did not escape me. “How is that possible?” I questioned.

She shrugged. “Some are born with it. Some magic grows it for you, artifacts that grant you one as long as you wear them, so you could still revert back when you take them off. ”

“And why do you know all of this?” I asked, a disturbing suspension growing.

Valeriana blushed. “It’s because my sister always wanted one! She would tell me about anything she could find.”

“I see,” I said as my hand went past her head to her shoulders, back, and below. Yelping, Valeriana slapped it away. Unable to hold in my laughter, I chuckled, addressing the pouting cat. “I was just checking.”

Red-faced, She rolled her eyes and let out a hmph. We spoke about everything and nothing. Alas, the rosy atmosphere had to dissipate, the conversation derailing into Valeriana venting out her frustration of the last few weeks, from looking for healers to meeting her family again. The guilt she felt became more and more apparent the longer she spoke. The encounter with the Arachne, the mage, and her family’s– she blamed herself for it all; the Wyvern was the breaking point.

I waited for the exasperated grumbling to end before I spoke, “Let me say this first: I blame you for nothing; I’m sure you can already tell. The situation in the dungeon was a mistake on both our parts. All we can do is look back and figure out what went wrong.” I paused for a brief second. “And I don’t think I have said it yet so, thank you for saving me.”

A broad smile broke her face, no doubt sensing my sincerity. “I haven’t really lost anything. I still have all my skills, even the Mind Resistance. I understand why your mother wanted it gone, but it doesn’t make sense to go after my spells. I was your slave. Why would she weaken her own daughter?” A deep sigh escaped me. “I can understand why she did it, I would have probably done the same, but I cannot forgive her.” I shifted, anticipating the incoming outburst. “But I think you should.”

“What!” She yelled, rising up, her head turning and barely missing my chin.

“She had your best intentions in mind,” I calmly explained. “Your sister as well, too,” I added.

Valeriana held my gaze for a few seconds. I groaned as she dropped down on top of my chest. “You could have died,” She said. “You don’t how anything about them, especially my sister.”

“Maybe,” I stated. “You’ll have to tell me more about them. I can’t bring myself to forgive them, but I think you should at least talk. Family is important.”

She said nothing; instead buried her face into my abdomen and proceeded to placate herself by loudly sniffing me. The coloration between the two was lost to me but definitely effective. Somehow, the pain and anger were dimming.

“What about you?” Valeriana abruptly asked, her voice muffled.

“What do you mean?” I inquired.

“What about your family.” She asked, her eyes traveling upwards.

“Oh,” I spoke, “that reminds me, I met the Goddess.”

Well, that made her stop. The retail of the interaction went uninterrupted; however, out of all the possible questions, I thought she might ask, the following was not one of them.

“Don’t you want to go back?” She asked, her face half-hidden in my stomach.

“Not really. I have nothing back there,” I replied.

“What about your family?” She repeated.

“I have none, for all I care.” My answer was met with a deep frown, a blank stare urging me to explain. “My parents are alive, I think. We haven’t spoken in years. After my brother died, my mother hit the bottle, and my father barely came back from work.” I shrugged. “There wasn’t much left for me there. I worked a bunch of jobs, saved some money, and left.”

My words evoked feelings of sadness and a bit of self-loathing, but unexpectedly, they were washed away by a deep sense of commitment. She fluctuated between various emotions, too fast for me to keep up with. Despite having direct access to her heart, I had no idea what was on her mind. So, I focused inwardly, opening the shop and checking for a random item. I had done it so many times that it became second nature; however, right now, something was different –an unfamiliar prompt greeted me.

[ User_Name not found ]

[ Calibrating… ]

[ Calibrating… ]

[

Please choose an option to register your identity (visible to other users) :

Alias

Birth given name.

]

Well, the Goddess did mention change. And now that I think about it, real or not, each user had a designated name. The decision before me was not difficult to make. Anonymity was the obvious choice. I mentally picked Alias and was only given another prompt.

[ A random alias has been generated ]

[ Welcome to the Lugardana’s blessing, Mr. Green ]

It seems I was getting the full experience. I wanted to make my own nickname, but oh well. Two new ‘tabs’ were now available; History and The Heroes’ guide. I chose the more interesting option and was quickly disappointed. The Heroes’ guide was underwhelming, to say the least – a FAQ form and a couple of empty instructions.

The heroes were the chosen ones, summoned to defeat unspeakable evil. The reward to such heroism was a single wish restricted by a bunch of abstract limitations. The biggest no-no was fiddling with the world’s development: giving away advanced technologies and inventions, crippling its progression, but I was almost certain it was breached long ago.

History was self-explanatory; a collection of every item I had bought with date, price, and seller listed. What came as a surprise was the price of the Mind Resist skill at a total of 100,000 points. The skill was fairly rare, the lowest rank around 20,000, which I figured I had bought. Nevertheless, I had Lugardana’s word that everything I got when I first arrived was mine to keep, but this amount of money was simply ludicrous. And without a doubt, it would sell for even more now, considering it leveled up a couple of times. However, I abandoned the thought of parting with the only mental defense I had.

Another shock was the presence of an item I had not purchased, a strand of life which, according to its description, was a tiny thread capable of raising someone from the dead. It was a gift, and the name of my benefactor was blank. Not finding it within my store’s inventory, I came up with two theories: one, I had died by extreme mana consumption; two, the condition to meet the Lady above was to pass on. Either way, I had almost certainly bit the dust.

A couple of hours ago, I would have shrugged it off and moved on, but now it was different. I was… married. I had someone who cared for me, and I cared for, I think. I wasn’t sure yet.

A finger poked my side, breaking me out of my thoughts. Glancing up at me, Valeriana asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing much,” I replied.

She pouted and untangled herself from me. Standing up and turning her back to me, she stretched – arching her back and presenting me with quite the view. The redness to her face was quite evident as she slowly bent down all the way and touched her toes. Lying on my back, hands behind my head, I enjoyed the show to the fullest. Each piece of clothing was leisurely donned. Her attempts at seduction were briefly halted by almost tripping on her own tail, but it did manage to evoke a reaction from my abused soldier.

With a smirk, Valeriana was quick to put out the fire, completely ignoring her mishap. “Come on,” She said, tapping on the dirt door and leaving the tiny house. Naked and alone, I came to the realization that the only clothes turned tatters yesterday were mine. A short and expensive shopping later, I was wearing a simple linen-cotton outfit with a very distinct grey cloak on my back.

Walking alongside Valeriana, I was surprised with how eerily quiet the village was, given it was still morning, but there was usually some sort of noise. Valeriana led the way, guiding us closer and closer towards the edge of the forest. Noticing my questioning glance, she hooked her arms with mine, grinning.

“We’re getting breakfast,” She joyfully stated.

Releasing an exaggerated sigh, I pulled her a bit closer and took in the fresh air. Reaching the forest’s entrance, we encountered a peculiar sight; the Wyvern limping towards us more hurt than yesterday.

Our eyes met, and her head instantly lowered. Hands folded in front, she bowed and her voice grave. “I apologize for this unsightly appearance, my Lord.”

“It is to be expected.” Came my reply, much harsher than intended; Draconic again proving to be more overbearing than necessary. Ignoring her flinch, I repeated, “It’s fine.” Pulling out a health potion, I asked, “Would this be of any help?”

Shaking her head, she replied, following my course of changing languages, “No, my Lord. I require a creature’s flesh to mend my own.”

“Is that why you have more injuries?” I questioned. “You were hunting?”

“Yes, my Lord,” She affirmed, shame lacing her voice. “I healed what was damaged on the inside, but victory came at a cost.”

“How about you accompany us then?” Valeriana asked to my side.

The Wyvern’s eyes did not leave the ground, yet her gaze was on me. I nodded approvingly at the offer, only for her to apologize again. “I’m afraid I will only hinder you.”

“Can you transform?” I asked.

In a heartbeat, the winged serpent was standing before us, body much smaller than I recall, wings torn and ripped – it held no resemblance to the majestic beast that once was.

“Come here,” I commanded, and she obliged, dragging a hind leg behind. The sight of the proud dragon looking so pitiful brought me no joy. Towering over the Wyvern, I extended my free arm and ordered, “Climb.”

Two slit eyes widened at me; however, any objections were silenced with a firm look. It was a first for me, seeing a mortified lizard. Folding her wings with a wince, she caught onto my forearm and slithered upwards – coiling herself around my waist and resting a long scaly snout above my shoulders. I pretended to fix my shirt, but honestly, I couldn’t resist but feel the cold, dry snake-like skin.

Valeriana coughed loudly, a spike of jealousy surfacing as her tail whipped and made circles around my biceps all the way to my wrist. With a wry smile, my unoccupied hand caressed the furry limb. A noticeable shiver ran through her body as the bindings on my arm wriggled and tightened.

So, I stepped into the forest, carrying a Wyvern and holding a purring panther.