Chapter 46

The Boy With The Butterfly Tattoo

The next few weeks kind of went in a blur for me. Even with my forgoing sleep, my day was taken up with training, training, more training, and finally acting as a human translator. During this time, I shared with Rayquel my cheat method of removing all harmful conditions caused by over training the body, and how to avoid the negative effects of never sleeping by my judicious use of Cleanse. The only times we didn’t train together were when I was either teaching a class or acting as one of the translators for the humans in class. Even during these times Rayquel stayed close, often going around with me as I interacted with the other students. We found that I received a lot less confrontation from humans and Endarians alike when she was by my side.

In the end Rayquel and I trained from sunup through sundown and beyond. We did night drills, combat drills, and speed drills. I will say it again, fuck speed drills, but we did them anyways. Of course, they were a lot easier to do since I was already past the fifteen-attribute threshold. With my spells and Rayquel’s constant effort she too managed to break the fifteen-point threshold for Agility.

She still didn’t have the cheat of playing an instrument to help with her Dexterity training. As for me, this meant I had to effectively serenade Rayquel with violin music, while she worked on catching up to my speed with her own speed drills.

During this time, I felt what was the start of a rash on my back. Despite how many times I cast different versions of Heal on myself, I could not get the itching sensation to go away. I persisted, knowing that scratching such an offending area would only worsen the effect. I dealt with it. I applied ointments to soothe the area, they did nothing. Well, they did make my clothes smell odd and make my shirts extra clingy to my skin.

I began to seriously wonder if I was having some sort of severe allergic reaction to the Endarian planet, or maybe some of the non-indigenous fauna that were brought from the home world. At one point I even wondered if it was my violin made from parts of the world tree. In the end I ruled out the violin as being the culprit of so much frustration, mainly since I didn’t have a rash under my chin and on my hands. Those are the areas that were in near constant contact with the world tree wood violin, which if the wood was the culprit, those areas should also have the itchy rash.

Finally, one day when I had just about enough of the incessant itching, Rayquel asked. “Your back still itching?”

I had just spent the better part of a minute violently scratching at my back so hard that I knew I drew blood. I drew blood that I then healed.

Finally unable to take it anymore and knowing that Rayquel could feel the rising discomfort I was feeling through our bond, I finally decided to get her opinion on it.

“Yes, would you mind taking a look at it?” I asked.

Hearing this I felt several different emotions pass through our bond. The bond that despite being improperly made had seemed to stabilize quite nicely over the course of the last few weeks of training. Aside from us showering in different rooms, nearly every waking moment for the past three weeks had been spent together and it showed. We were much more formidable as a combat team, as an exfiltration team, and as a piloting team. Now that I was an official Endarian, it was acceptable for me to be a pilot with Rayquel as my support. This key point was also clarified in the media, as the military was just giving me a test flight to see if I was worthy of being a true Endarian pilot. I apparently passed, and the Endarian media-spin-team managed to get public opinion to change and accept what had happened. Of course, this made a few of the underground forums blow up with I told you so, but that was to be expected. There were always random people posting their thoughts and intentions on underground forums.

Bashful discomfort.

I was so lost in my own musings that I nearly missed the emotions that were coming through our bond. Then when I realized what they were, I turned to Rayquel who suddenly blushed. I was so confused for a moment, that I couldn’t understand why she was feeling this way. Then I realized she was embarrassed to see me without my shirt.

“You know this thing has been plastered to me for most of our training sessions?” I inquired.

Hearing that, only caused more emotions to pour through our bond. At this I realized something. “Oh, wait. You already knew?”

Still more discomfort and nervous tension.

Finally, I got to use our connection like a weapon against the other, and I did just that. “So, what, you afraid you will like what you see?” I tease as I grab the shirt and begin pulling it up just showing my stomach.

I have an eight pack at this moment, along with multiple muscles that connect the different portions of my rib cage together are now prominent as well. Lean would be the word I would use to describe myself, lean and fit. I don’t know what my body fat percentage is at this point, but I know it is pretty low.

Wizard Kyle is looking more and more like an unpolished sac of noodles. While at this point I more closely resemble the muscle-bound barbarian, if we are keeping with the old medieval character tropes. I’ve even noticed this Jess giving me glances. Glances that are often met with or intercepted by Rayquel. Hmm, thinking back on it, maybe there is a reason why Rayquel stays by my side so much during classes.

“Fine just do it.” Rayquel says, as she inadvertently licks her lower lip.

She always has a way of realizing when I am about to space out. That is something I…

Mild anger.

Okay fine, she caught me again. This time I do take off my shirt entirely. She stares at me for a moment, like a fat kid eying down the candy shop. I just stand there for a moment. Then finally she shakes her head and angrily gestures for me to turn around. With that I remember what the whole point of my teasing her was about. Really, I am getting so lost in my own thoughts, recently.

“Turn already.”

“Right.” I say, as I begin to turn and expose my eczema back to her. At least I think it is covered in eczema, or somehow rotting flesh.

Shock.

“What? Is it bad?” I ask.

“When did you get a Tattoo?” She asks.

“Tattoo?” I ask as I try to stare at my back, but to no avail. It is nearly impossible, I bet you are trying so right now. My neck hurts from the strain and twisting, but I still can’t see it.

I know what you are likely thinking, why not use a mirror? Well, the answer is simple, the Endarians don’t believe in mirrors as they perpetuate bad self-images. It doesn’t hurt that every Endarian is nearly genetically perfect, at least by human standards, as such mirrors for them are pointless. So of course, when you are a human, or half-human in my case, going to their planet, you don’t get a mirror either. No point to compare yourself to the countless other perfect bodies around you, as it is what is inside that truly counts. You know at times like this, I realize that only those who are truly perfect would spout such nonsense and believe it whole heartedly. Makes me sick.

“Yes, you have matching butterfly wings on your back.” Rayquel says, once again pulling me out of my own inner monologue and back to the moment. It takes me a second to understand what she said.

“Matching butterfly wings?” I parrot back to her.

Rayquel just nods. As if such a gesture fully answers the question, I was trying to pose to her. Truthfully, I don’t know what question I was posing to her. The entire thing seems to be odd.

After a few more minutes of going nowhere in our conversation, we decide to go see the doctor. The one who spoke about our pair bonding to begin with.

I am so lost in what is happening that I fail to do a few things as we make our way across campus. The first thing is I didn’t put back on my sweat-soaked black shirt, mainly because when I took it off, I dropped it on the ground and now it had grass sticking to it. I don’t know about you, but the idea of dried grass stalks rubbing against my already tender skin is not one of my things to do. I carried my itchy shirt in my arms.

This caused multiple things to happen. First, I felt a gentle summer breeze blowing, which helped cool down my body from our long day of training. The cool breeze also seemed to have a calming effect on my otherwise burning skin. As such, I decided to let it happen.

By the time we got back to the major training yards I had completely forgotten why we were going to the doctors, as we had changed the topic to cover what we would do next. We both agreed a quick shower, followed by dinner would be the best course of action.

Wolf-Whistle.

“Nice tramp stamp.” Wizard me shouted from across the field. Of course, he was behind us, which meant that turning back to deal with him would likely mean the doctor we were trying to see would leave for the day if we didn’t hurry. As such I made a mental note. I owed Wizard me one.

We continued in silence. After a few minutes Rayquel tried to lessen the mood.

“From my understanding of human culture. That is not a tramp stamp, as it doesn’t exist solely on the small of your back. Clearly, he doesn’t know what he is talking about.” Rayquel said.

I laugh, finding it funny how people from other cultures are trying to tell me about my own culture. “I know, he said it to get under my skin.”

“Oh.” Rayquel said, then I could feel her thinking deeply across our bond. “Well in that case I think he succeeded.”

I stare at her for a second, before shaking my head. Today started off so well, too. Then you go and take off your shirt in front of someone who is not your girlfriend, and everything goes to pot. I think to myself.

“Doctor Ilova,” Rayquel shouts at someone who is clearly wearing civilian clothing. I am glad Rayquel is here, as I would have totally missed the doctor. Yeah, she was pretty, but she was just Endarian pretty. Like all forms of aesthetics after enough exposure she just kind of blended into the background. In fact, one of the few reasons why Rayquel stood out so much was due to her butterfly wings.

“Oh, hello Rayquel. Hello Goldman.” The doctor said, as she gestured for me as well.

“Are you off for the day?” Rayquel asked, a tone of desperation in her voice.

“I am, but what is the matter, perhaps I can help.” Dr. Ilova said.

“Show her.” Rayquel said and gave a quick gesture for me to turn around.

Sighing that I now felt like an exhibitionist, I did as instructed.

Silence.

I paused, waited for a second or two, then turned to see the doctor who had approached so that she was only inches away. Seeing my gaze, she suddenly got a bit flustered.

“Sorry I was just admiring the intricacies. At first, I thought this was a tattoo, but it is too perfect. Not even a machine could graft this to such an exact mirror image of Rayquel’s wings on your back. The only difference is the coloring.”

“Coloring?” I ask.

“Yes, while Rayquel’s is uniform with the iron like color, allowing for only slight variations. Yours has your two primary colors in full force. Silver for the base, and purple for the eyes, or deep spots.” The doctor said.

“So, what does it mean?” I ask.

Hearing that the doctor chuckled to herself. “It seems you took me up on my advice and finally completed the physical bonding portion. Congratulations, about time.”

Hearing that I felt flashes of embarrassment come through our bond, as I no doubt felt the same. “Um, we didn’t do that?” Rayquel says to my defense.

Hearing this the doctor’s eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Oh, well in that case lets run some tests.”

The next few hours were done with her taking skin samples, reflex checks, and all manner of other tests that ultimately showed what we knew before. Basically, the doctor was clueless of what happened and told us to tell her if anything happened. The doctor also hinted that at this rate I might be able to grow my own wings if we went through with the physical bonding ritual. That was a big, no for me.

Now I had two reasons not to go through with the physical bonding. First, I would get butterfly wings, and as cool as having butterfly wings might sound, no really there is no way to spin that. Butterfly wings for flight is probably the stupidest form of transportation ever, even if you could fly, they are still butterfly wings. Nope, not happening.

There was also the other reason not to go through with the process, at least not for the moment. That reason was probably more important than my sense of ego. The main reason I didn’t want to go through with the process is that they would be a constant sign of my own infidelity. While I knew it was stupid, and we had now been apart longer than we were together, I couldn’t do that to Mel. Basically, because it would almost be like admitting that every time my brother caused Jess to cheat on me, I somehow deserved it.

In the end, the tests took too long, and we ended up having to rush to the chow hall to eat before our showers. For whatever reason I was allowed to enter without my shirt. After all the tests, and some special ointment that I was to keep applying to my back every six hours, my back was extra sore.

I sat outside, while Rayquel went in to grab two trays of food. I thought about using this time to go back and get a second clean shirt, one that didn’t have dried grass stalks to it, but decided against it. I would just deal with what came.

“Oh.” A few Endarians seemed to say from far away.

A male Endarian walked up and asked, “is that from your pair bond with Rayquel?”

Hearing that, and thankful that it wasn’t someone thinking I got a complementary butterfly tattoo on my back. I answered truthfully, “yes.”

The man had a somewhat crestfallen face, but then continued. “Congratulations. Tell me if it isn’t too much to ask.” Then he paused.

“What?”

“What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“You know, sex with Rayquel?”

I looked at him like he was crazy, but then realized this is basically what the doctor also implied. That we had coupled together and thus formed this deeper layer of connection. But we hadn’t, at least not in that aspect. We had spent every waking moment together for the past three weeks, which was three times longer than the weeklong act of debauchery that was originally prescribed to us. But was that all that was needed? Us just being close? Fortunately, I was saved by Rayquel who came out, and with a glare that would melt ice from the poles, the boy went away.

“Here,” she said, while offering the tray to me.

“Thank you.” I said, as I began digging in almost immediately. Food was still sadly, Rayquel and my only thing we could not overcome with magic. As such we made sure that we both ate whenever and as much as possible. I even forced myself to eat the nature bars, which weren’t as bad as they used to be. I don’t know if this is just Stockholm syndrome, or what, but I began finding that I didn’t mind Endarian cuisine as much as I used to.

Finally, after a few minutes, and most of our trays clear of food, Rayquel asked what had been brewing on her mind. “So, what was that?”

“What was what?”

“That boy, he asked you something you didn’t like?” Rayquel asked.

Then I realized she knew exactly how I was feeling from our bond. “Yeah, he implied that we had spent the week coupling, and then asked for details.”

Hearing that, Rayquel herself let out several emotions as well.

“What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him anything. I did think he was an ass for asking such personal matters, but you showed up before I needed to say anything.”

Hearing that Rayquel nodded to herself.

“You know people will likely assume that we have.” I said, finally concluding that we should talk about it.

“So?”

“So? Wouldn’t you be offended?” I asked.

She just smiled and shook her head. “You are worried about my modesty?” She asked, then I realized what she was getting at. Modesty was a human concept that the Endarians absolutely hated. In fact, monogamy was also considered a taboo, until one found pair bond. Even then, it was not uncommon for one or more of a pair bond to seek comforts from others. That was just the culture. Only now did I realize how much Rayquel was putting on hold for me. Not only did she accept my monogamy, but she completely cut herself off from the affection of others, on the off chance that we would grow intimate together. Realizing this, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for our connection.

“Sorry. You are correct.” I paused, then added. “Also, thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

“For all you’ve done. For all you’ve given up for me. It does mean a lot.”

“Look at you, you get one little tramp stamp and all the sudden you become so weepy.” Rayquel teased.

HHAHAHAA!

I laughed, I laughed hard at that comment. We had grown close over the past few weeks, the butterfly-not-tramp-stamp was proof of that. I realized that the doctor was right, I likely could get butterfly wings if I pursued this connection with Rayquel to its fullest extent. The proposition both enticed me and scared me.

With that, I decided to eat the rest of my meal in peace. Once we were done Rayquel returned our trays, then we headed out to continue our training. In the end we didn’t shower, there was no point. Also, the shower would likely wash off the oils that the doctor gave me. Instead, we just continued to practice our teamwork and efficiency together. We had a Temple run to prepare for after all, and we were not going to waste the opportunity.