“Stop. I don't like this.” He felt uncomfortable being touched, not just because it was her, but because of all he'd been through. When was the last time he'd been touch affectionately? Besides the overdone back slaps by Iscari, which he didn't count, it had been four years since he'd had so much as a proper hug. Longer, even. Kissing a woman made it even worse. His gut felt like it was burning up on the inside of him and his heart was beating with uncomfortable rapidity. That heart he could only feel sometimes...

Tyr tried though, as Alex asked. They shared their first kiss, his first, and... It was complex. The romantics did not describe it half as well as how it felt. It was hot and burning. Tyr wasn't so lost as to miss the point. He felt warm. Her lips were soft and rosy, but she was patient too, which made denying the urge even worse. It would have been preferable if she'd just thrown him away, all it did was confuse him.

“Why? Am I doing something wrong?”

“Nope. Judging by the way I feel, I'd think you a real talent for this.” He sighed. Both were bare of clothing except for undergarments, and she was violently blushing. Alex had asked him directly for it, and he had tried to oblige, but he couldn't. Even if she claimed otherwise despite knowing of what was assuredly to become his fate, she denied it. Said that she didn't care about it. That she wanted to know how 'it' felt before he passed, but he couldn't do it. It wasn't time yet, something in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, and it wasn't fear of the unknown or dislike for her specifically. Something he needed to wait for, that she couldn't be his first. Why?

Alex sighed, red in the face and frustrated. “Listen, Tyr. I've been patient, but I have needs. I've never lusted after, touched, or fancied another man. I swear it. I'll be patient, I won't behave as Sigi does, but eventually...”

“Needs?” Tyr asked.

“Yes!” She was exasperated. Alex was well aware of what she looked like and how many other men fancied her. Yet this blockhead remained the same even after all of their developments. “To be loved, and touched, and... I want to feel... Wanted...”

She couldn't put her finger on it. They'd grown close, in her opinion. Tyr was more complex than she'd originally thought. Even broken into pieces, his pieces were honest and he showed and told her everything that made him. If she had a question, he answered it. A task, he completed it. Frankly, he was oddly docile.

“I see.” Tyr exhaled hard from the nose, lifting the covers upon his bed up just enough to obscure his lower half. “I've never been with a woman before. I am well aware of what sex is, sorry for being so obtuse, but I am massive virgin.”

“Really?” She asked, astonished. Tyr had made the claim, but she'd always felt like he was joking. Primus was a title few had and many coveted, for obvious reasons. Tyr was friendly with whores and rogues and drunkards – exposed to the life from an early age. “I always thought...” She let the words hang, unable to articulate them.

“No.” He understood her meaning. Every emotion coming from her had a scent. “I'm a virgin, and I'm just confused.” She had been clear, after he'd told her of his assumption that his father would kill him. Alex claimed she didn't care, that many women her age were bedded before their wedding consummation, so it didn't matter either way. But that was not why he was confused. “In a lot of ways, you were right. Do you remember when you called me violent and I tried to turn it around on you? I think you were right.”

He explained what had happened with Nala. An incredibly powerful being in her own right, it was power enough to begin to set him straight. He'd expected a fight. Had always expected to fight over every little thing, but he hadn't. Examples abounded. Kikibon, the various goblin tribes, Nala, the adventurers... Tyr was considering the fact that his outlook on the world was flawed. Perhaps not everything was out to get him.

Trying to emulate real human behavior via the wishes of others was flawed. Not a mindset that would help him become real. Or feel the way he wanted to.

“This isn't what I expected.” She sighed. “I don't know. I'm not a philosopher. I'm just trying to get laid, I'm so tired of this. Like, I'm listening to you. Believe me, I hear you and I'm happy that you're reflecting on what I said. It shows some appreciation. But... You know what.” Alex sighed again, speaking in an animated way with her hands. She was clearly very frustrated, but not so willing to compromise. “If you need me, I'll be at the pool. Or something... I don't know. I'm not mad, I'm just... Disappointed.”

She left Tyr alone and naked on the bed. Nothing had happened, for now. An experiment of sorts, and he was sickened by his lack of committal to it. To that which any man should want for and desire. That stung, he rather she stabbed him than say that word. Disappointed. It hurt him in a way he couldn't possibly describe.

Why am I so different...? A question nobody but he could answer, incensing him further. He opened the door and departed, shirtless and wearing naught but a pair of black leather breeches. His body as rigid as steel, muscles standing out and laying shadows against his pale flesh.

“So...? How was it?” Micah spoke, but Brenn and Tythas were just behind him. All three of them had been 'observing', waiting for him to leave the room.

“I swear to all the gods, I'll beat you to death if you don't wise up on of these days. It's incredibly disturbing for you to sit there in expectation that I would bed my wife. Especially you, Brenn? Seriously?”

“Bro! We're virgins. Like, c'mon. Help us out!” Micah crowed, leaving Brenn and Tythas flushed in the cheeks. “Aren't we friends?”

“Yes.” Tyr replied. “But I'm pretty sure friends don't brag about their conquests.” Or... Maybe they did, the men of the blackguard were always talking about theirs. It was hard to say. “I'm no less a virgin than you. I've told you that. That didn't change.”

“Oh....” Micah was skeptical, his voice conspiratorial. “So what did you do? Why don't you have a shirt on? Why did she leave in such a huff, all blushing like? You can't hide the truth from ole Micah, and that's a fact. Erectile dysfunction? Listen man, I know some ladies who brew some top flight potions for that sort of thing. There's no shame in it!”

“She was shaving my ass. I have very hairy ass cheeks. It's a primus thing, believe me – ask Iscari if you don't.” He replied, disappearing into the depths of the estate.

–

“What about school...?”

“I don't care about it. Kikibon said the institution of higher education is distilled classism and therefore unjust. They can fail me if they want to, and I'll do what I want to do.”

“Who in the twelve hells is Kikibon!? What kind of half-assed name is that!?” Alex was incensed. One moment, she was enjoying a nice long soak after a day of training, and the next – Tyr declared that he was going to hunt down Hastur himself. Nala had found him, and was waiting for his arrival. It hadn't taken more than two weeks, she was incredibly efficient. “Whatever...” She sighed. “Is this because of what happened the other day? Listen, I'm sorry it was so awkward, but we can always give it another shot.”

“It's not about that.”

“Well, whatever the case may be, I'm coming, and so are the others.”

“Why would you do that?” Tyr asked, confused. “I was explicitly clear that you were not to come.”

“...And? That's what friends do, and I am at the very least your friend. We show up when you need us. We help you with your goals and support you. We'll go kill that roach and be done by the time school starts.” She said it like it was such a simple thing. Firstly, killing a man. Secondly, killing Hastur, who for all intents and purposes might have surpassed all known archmages and stepped into the realm beyond.

“No. You won't.” Tyr was determined, and there was a reason for that. “You have no idea what he's capable of.”

“And you do?”

“Not really, but I've a better idea than you. He could turn you inside out... Enslave you. Regardless – you would die. Even Iscari could die, I've seen that kind of magic can do.”

“So have all of us.” Was Astrid's rebuttal. “What do you think I've been doing all of this time? Lazing about? My grades are the best in the class! Show us the respect we deserve. We're coming.”

“You're not.” Sigi refuted her sister completely for the first time since they'd known each other, leaving Alex and Astrid alike shocked. “Look at him. He's a what? A primus. I'm not so meek as to insist we serve and obey him, but he's obviously right. Us fight an archmage? Give me the manticore he was talking about, at least she'll make it fast.”

“You're not coming.” Tyr added. “Never. I will finish this and return, I am only telling you that and not the others because I owe my wives that kind of respect. Okay?”

“Alright.” Agreement didn't come easy, but it did come, thankfully. Okami and Tyr departed that day, traversing the land with lightning speed. Horses needed rest, to be given the chance to sleep – but like Tyr, Okami needed no consistent rest. His vitality was far beyond that of a typical beast. All he did was run, eat, and run again. Crossing two successor states and reaching Baccia in less than a day in a half. The speed was incredible.

If not for Okami's insistence, Tyr would have rode a horse. He'd always felt like riding the wolf was disrespectful, but it was his life and his decision. With permission, as with Micah, Tyr would assent to it. It was comfortable too, bizarrely so. Horses would bob one up and down, scabbing the legs and leaving one sore in the waist.

The wolf was different. His every moment had magic in it, a sort of passive grace. Not so spectacular as shooting beams of energy from his eyes or lightning from his mouth, but just as amazing. He cushioned Tyr with air, cut through any kind of atmospheric friction with air magic, and ensured no hunters could follow their trail. It wasn't the shrouding of darkness magic that kept his footsteps soft, Okami's was making the earth elastic and almost bouncy instead. Modulating the shock and stress on his lower body so as not to effect him, near perfectly silent when he wanted to be.

It was incredible. Magic beasts were on another level entirely in their connection with mana than humans were.

“This is?” Tyr stared out at a bleak looking city. Baccia was scrub land so thin as to be almost desert. Almost. It was dry and sandy, and most of all hot. Further away from water, the climate became unpleasant. The city itself was nothing more than vast slabs of limestone and all of the buildings were long and squat. No far reaching towers here, but he could feel the tunnels running below the city through his feet. Labyrinthine stretches of sand and stone that cooled their houses and acted as a natural climate control and storage facility alike.

“Taur. The capital city of Baccia and where our quarry resides.” Nala replied. She had returned to her human form once again, hooded in a voluminous robe, but no less voluptuous for it. Her long golden hair sparkled in the bright sunlight, spilling out from the folds of the robe in a torrent that stretched all the way down to her waist. Her visible features were high boned and elegant, strong and regal. There was an energy to her that pleased the eye beyond aesthetics, something magnificent as the mountain or the trees.

A predatory sense to her every move and facial expression. Her teeth were pearly white and her eyes were clear and full of purpose.

“Do you have a plan?” Tyr asked.

Nala snorted. “Plans are for men. The inability to improvise in the heat of things is the great weakness of mortals. I never plan, I hunt. You?”

“Honestly? Pretty much the same. I haven't planned much of anything in my entire life.”

He just chased, and in it he found that the quarry calmed his heart.

“We are one, then. Watch my back – and I'll watch yours. But first, we should rest. To be at peak condition when the time comes. We will strike in the night. Is this agreeable?”

Tyr nodded. It was good enough for him. That justice be done was all that mattered, the screams of the child that had changed in his arms were calling to him. In what Hastur had done, he could see everything. His mother dying while he wailed over her cooling corpse, so many things. It didn't matter if he was responsible or not. But Tyr replayed this event in his head as he had so many times in the past.

“So...” It was morning when they had found the city. Now, they had made their way into the interior and found the nearest inn. Baccia a successor state, and its capital of Taur was massive, an oasis in the desert. Nala appeared human enough, and Tyr's appearance was obvious. As long as you were human, you were welcome, but no other race but theirs. This place was segregated. Non-human races were not permitted to enter the city proper. A rare beastkin could be seen, but beyond that... Nothing. “How old are you?” He asked.

“Three hundred cycles or so. You stop counting after a while, you'll understand.”

“Good gods, I never would've thought you were so... So...”

“So old?” She furrowed her brow in offense. “I'm not some crone. I am well within the young adult span of a manticores life cycle, I'll have you know.”

“Seriously? How long do you live?”

“A millennia exactly is the cut off point where we will die. Otherwise, we'd be immortal. Solomon shaped us to live forever if we needed to.” Nala replied.

“That's a shame.” Tyr mused.

“How? To be immortal is to be timeless. I, nor any of my kin, wish for immortality. Nobody should. Your 'gift', how I assume you consider it, is none such. Immortality is a curse, and I pity you for it. If you wish for me to live forever, just ask, it might work.”

“I'll die, the same as you.” Tyr chuckled. “Eventually.”

“No.” Nala spoke softly. “You won't. You don't understand, but you will. I hope that you do not lose yourself in your everlasting life. I like who you are in the present and hope that we'll be allies for the many seasons to come.”

“Well... Okay.” Tyr cringed. He was so awkward. Nala was easier to speak with than most people, but the conversation didn't exactly come easy. She was old and impossibly wise because of it, and this was a barrier between them. “Do you like the food?”

She smiled softly. “Yes. Humans have few talents, but the making of food and drink are some of them. Music, too. Your music pleases me a great deal, and most of my kin share the same opinion. Your short lives breed an insecurity that lends itself well to the arts, all told. The Alfen are too fickle and random, the dwarves too eccentric. Humanity have gotten it just right, in my opinion, one shared by our creator. Do you like music?”

“I've never really thought about it. It's okay.” Tyr shrugged at the question. He never had been a big proponent of the arts in general, let alone music. If it were up to him, everything would be square and bland, but he could appreciate their influence on things. The world was made beautiful by the creativity of others, and seeing such an ugly city would show him that even if he hadn't realized it.

“You are high strung.” Nala chuckled. “You should learn to relax. To enjoy the little things in life. Otherwise, whether you're immortal or not – the centuries will weigh heavy on your shoulders. Our minds were not made to exist for so long. Only through our ability to enjoy can we appreciate all that is around us. Otherwise, we'd grow cold with age.”

She connected with him again, sharing everything she'd experienced while they'd been together. The pleasant heat of the sun beating down on her skin, the sting of salted liquor in her mouth. The sound of lutes and the sights and smells of life in the city. All things had meaning. Nala didn't particularly like humans, but they were a part of the world and she accepted them because of that. Everywhere she looked had color, compared to the gray film that lie over everything Tyr looked at.

It was enough to bring him to tears. To see what she saw, with all the violence of senses that hadn't been embittered. Her thoughts were his, and he hers. She pursed her lips, replying faintly. “I'm sorry, I didn't know.”

“Don't be. I've got a ways to go, I think, but I'll get there. One day. Thank you.”

“It's good that you can see these gifts as they are. Gifts. Life is meaningless unless you've the mind to look around you. You're trapped in a cycle and I wish I could help you flee from it. A cruel one. Your father is a... Forgive me.”

“No forgiveness needed.” Tyr leaned back in the chair he sat in. An uncomfortable thing. Everything in Baccia seemed to be made of limestone, even the furniture. “My father is a real piece of shit, and I know it. But I don't hate him.”

“To be a parent is a great challenge, you shouldn't be so hasty to judge. I am a mother to many, and it has never been easy. Even for my kind and our self sufficiency that far outstrips mankind.”

“Well.” Tyr replied. “I loved my mother, so there's that. Maybe motherhood is hard, but fatherhood is easy. Regardless – based on what I know – he didn't do a good job tending to his only task. Or maybe he did. Maybe he made me strong.”

“Not strong.” Nala shook her head sadly. She reminded Tyr of his own mother, that which he could remember. Her hard eyes grew soft, no distinct color to them. Ever time he blinked it was another shade, a unique hue. “Brittle. If I had to say. There's something in you that'll break before it'll ever bends. I'm sorry that I cannot help. You've a beautiful soul, I yearn to hold it, but there are many scars. Humans are shaped in a way that most beings are not, your experiences define you and for one so young you've had many of those.”

“...Hold it?” Those were the only words that Tyr could focus on. Overly romantic and ridiculous.

“Of course.” Nala replied. “We were designed to be your companions. Perhaps not your lovers, necessarily, but I will not deny that I've felt a great compulsion to pounce on you since the day that we've met. It's a strange thing. The feelings he left us with.”

“That will is not your own.” Tyr felt disgusted yet again. To create life and force it into a pre-scripted series of behavior was tantamount to evil. Maybe that was evil. Every second he spent with Samson made him realize how cruel men could be even to their own kind. Other races had existed for thousands more years and had never engaged in such a foul practice. Dwarves did not take slaves. Elves didn't either based on what Tyr had heard. Only men, by the looks of it.

Nala laughed. Condescendingly, this time. “Do not think me some doe trapped in the light of a lantern. I know what I feel. It is a communion, a sense of spirit. I have never soul bonded with anyone but you, nor do any of the elders among my kind. You are special.”

“How?”

“I am not certain why. Does it matter? It's instinct, considered and measured. You look like food to me, and I'd very much like to take the proverbial bite.” She winked, disturbing Tyr a great deal.

“If you want of my flesh, just ask – but I doubt that's what you're talking about. This is unexpected, and unnecessary. ”

“Maybe.” She replied. “Chimera like me are half things. We possess pseudo-souls, thought and feelings, but no gift of eternal life beyond existence. When I am dead and gone, that's it. You, and your lesser kin, will live on for all time. Measured by your deeds. For me, the lights go out and nothing else. Is it wrong to want for things? To see the light that comprises you and want to taste it? I know you feel it vulgar, but it isn't. It is nature. My nature. If it makes you uncomfortable, I'd apologize. But in all actuality, I don't feel any need to. I don't care how you feel, how I feel is not inferior nor is it wrong.”

The atmosphere in the inn was quiet. Baccian's didn't seem like the rowdy sort. Those that grew loud or violent were removed, and their beer was far too light an affair to effect either of them. Nala was completely sober while she told him these things, and Tyr was the same. To think that there was no afterlife awaiting the chimera was a fel thing. Men lived and died with the promise that there'd be more after. To live without that was to live without faith. To live without faith was to live not at all, faith in something even if not the gods.

“It's not like I'm offended.” Tyr shook his head, still confused. “It's more like... Why me? Why at all? I am not the one you want. I am a lot of things, most of them bad. Any other primus would be far more eligible for that kind of attention.”

Nala chuckled. “No. You have a light in you but you've not realized it yet. You will. As for me, I – we – were designed to protect. Maybe to guide and nurture, I'm not sure. I've never met the creator, but we are half things. Cursed things. Whereas you were whole. Maybe I yearn for that... Completeness of soul?”

She sighed, savoring the taste of her honeyed mead. It was a pleasant draft. A good vintage, as far as things made by humans went.

“I can smell your insecurities and see them for what they are. I am a mother, and I love you because you are a child. Don't look at me like that. You're not my child. Whatever you decide, it is okay. But to be clear, I will have you. Eventually. I am determined and your refusal will not sway me. Since you won't command, as expected, I will take. Don't blame me when it happens, you had the power to stop it.”