Tabula Rasa: Adventures In A New World

“My dearest love...?”

The slight twang of nervousness in those gently echoing words immediately grabs Krvavy’s attention, making her quickly glance back over her shoulder. “Is everything alright?” She asks, looking towards the Wood Elf woman currently leaning against the doorway to this newly constructed bathroom.

Beryl nods her head and takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. She worriedly bites her bottom lip, clearly hesitant to say whatever she came here for, and just as Krvavy is beginning to feel concerned... she opens her mouth to speak. “Yer Dwarf seems rather... satisfied today. Did ya finally claim ‘er?”

“Yes,” Krvavy accompanies that quick response with a nod of her head, “and I did get some favour from it. Not quite enough to upgrade Naturists Blessing though. Is that what you wanted to ask?”

“N...no.” The Wood Elf slowly replies, turning her gaze down to the ground.

The barbarian’s brow furrows. Without much thought, Krvavy puts aside her work and, in just a few long strides, arrives at her tomboy’s side. Placing a finger beneath Beryl’s chin, Krvavy gently lifts the worried Wood Elf’s head up and locks eyes with her. “Is everything alright?” She repeats again.

“Aye...” Beryl sighs out, unconvincingly. She then takes another deep breath, exhaling slowly through her nose. “Are ya... happy wit’ ‘ow Khalia is right now?”

Krvavy raises an eyebrow. “Well, not really. I’d rather she was more of a person, but you know that.”

The tanned Elf nods her head as best she can with Krvavy still cupping her chin. “Ah... Ah think tha’ Ah can fix ‘er. Ach, well, not quite fix... Tha’ ah’row ‘as long since been loosed, so ta speak. But Ah should be able ta make ‘er inta somethin’ new, someone new.”

“Really?” Krvavy perks up, as while that is a bit vague, it still sounds like pretty great news.

Beryl bites her bottom lip again, looking a little guilty. “Aye... Sorry tha’ my last attempt didn’t... work so well... It’ll be different this time, Ah promise! And Ah’m not just sayin’ tha’! This is an actual plan, not a spur o’ the moment idea! Somethin’ tha’ wasn’t even an option before, as we didn’t ‘ave enough mana fer it! But now, wit’ those quartz crystals, tha’ shouldn’t be a problem!”

“Whoa, whoa! Calm down, it’s alright!” The barbarian quickly reassures her Elf, thumb brushing over a caramel coloured cheek. “I don’t blame you for the state Khalia is in. It is a lot better than what she was like before.”

“Thank ya.” A fair bit of tension leaves Beryl’s body as she breathes out those two words, but not quite enough for Krvavy’s liking. This Wood Elf is still... rather stiff. “But if ya want ta make ‘er better, we will ‘ave ta do it tonight. Durin’ the witchin’ hour, when the full moon is ‘igh. If we miss the window, then we’ll ‘ave ta wait a whole month fer the next full moon. It’d be best ta do it with both moons bein’ full, but tha’ won’t be fer almost another whole year... And we should be fine wit’ just one moon anyway...”

Krvavy slowly nods her head to that. While she really does want to fix Khalia, she doesn’t want to rush the process and mess it up again.. But waiting an entire year for that is... Well, that is just far too long for her. So if Beryl thinks that they can do it tonight, then she will trust her Elf. “Is there anything we need to do to prepare?”

“Aye, but not a lot.” The tanned tomboy of an Elf replies, smiling up at her Draconic lover. “Ah need ya ta be in tip top shape, wit’ yer mana as full as can be. Beyond tha’, there are a few things tha’ Ah need ta get ready and in order, but ya don’t need ta worry about tha’. Nothin’ particularly difficult, just a bit tedious.”

“Alright, sounds easy enough. But, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you have planned for her this time? I take it you are going to do more than just mess with her mind?”

Beryl quickly nods her head. “Aye, this is much bigger, wit’ two whole parts ta it. Well, two parts tha’ Ah’ll be mixin’ inta one singular whole thing, just ta be clear... Anyway,” she dismissively waves her hand, “the first part is fairly simple. It is just a ritual ta make animals smarter. Ah’m not exactly sure ‘ow much smarter it’d make yer puppy, but it’ll teach ‘er how ta speak. Or at least it’ll make ‘er understand everythin’ tha’ we say, which’d then make learnin’ ta speak really easy fer ‘er. She’d just need ta figure out ‘ow ta make all o’ the right sounds and string those inta words...”

“And the second part?” Krvavy tries to not sound impatient, but... she doesn’t do the best job. If this can really help Khalia...

“Right...” Beryl’s bright, blue-green eyes glance off to the side as she reaches a hand up and lightly scratches the back of her neck, raising suspicion and not exactly inspiring confidence at the same time. “Well, Ah... Ah would like tha’ ta be more o’ a surprise fer ya. If tha’ is okay? It is a very important step, and Ah’m not sure if the first part would work without it, so we can’t skip it. But... ya’ll love the result, Ah’m sure!”

Krvavy narrows her eyes, staring straight through the Elf’s slightly nervous smile. After a few short moments, Krvavy decides to trust Beryl on this. The Wood Elf seems to like her surprises, and she knows better than to keep a secret if doing so would put Khalia at risk...

“Okay. Tonight.”

“It’s just this way, my dearest love.” Beryl glances back over her shoulder, her beautiful smile shining beneath the light of the full moon. The lantern in her hand casts long shadows all around, the shifting darkness dancing over rocks and shrubs alike.

All of the Elf’s earlier nervousness seems to have faded away, though Krvavy herself is now a little on edge. The anticipation of finally fixing Khalia has been eating away at her all day. This is very much overdue.

“Wuuf~!” Khalia quietly barks out from her place in Krvavy’s arms, happily nuzzling her face into the barbarian’s chest.

Krvavy can’t help but smile at that, but the sight is also a bit bittersweet. Her precious little puppy isn’t going to be her puppy for much longer. She’ll miss the adorable woofing, among many other things. Who knows how much of Khalia will change, and how much will remain the same?

It will be a change for the better though. Of that there is no doubt in her mind.

As long as this works, at least...

“Here we are.” Beryl announces, bending over at the waist to place the lantern on the ground. That action immediately pulls Krvavy’s attention over, as the Elf is wearing very little: just a loose shirt, some actual sandals, and the remains of her leather pants.

True to her words, Beryl cut those ruined scraps into extremely skimpy shorts that put her long and wonderfully toned legs on display. Shorts that also just so happen to perfectly cup her absolutely flawless ass, giving just the faintest glimpse of her tanned cheeks beneath that tightly stretched leather that hides absolutely nothing...

The sight before her causes Krvavy’s cock to stir beneath her loincloth, and the twinkle in the Elf’s eyes as she glances back says that Beryl knows exactly what she is doing. That teasing, Elvish minx...

“Place Khalia ‘ere, in the center.” The tomboyish Wood Elf all but orders. “And, please, try not ta step on the lines. Ah can fix them if ya do, but... Ah’m not sure ya’d ‘ave the patience fer tha’.”

An intricate pattern has been etched into the ground atop this hill, spiralling into itself in an almost circular shape. It vaguely resembles a rose, with its petals bunched together yet also splayed out all around it.

Krvavy gently lowers her Orc into the very center, just as she was told. “Sit. Stay.” She commands Khalia, who happily obeys.

“Can ya also put the quartz in place?” The Elf asks as she pours her waterskin into a wooden bowl, mixing the still faintly glowing liquid collected from the hot springs with some ingredients that have already been mashed into a goopy paste. “They go inta the little ‘oles around the edge. Make sure they’re secure and standin’ upright, add a ‘andful o’ dirt in wit’ them if ya ‘ave ta.”

Krvavy nods and immediately gets to work, grabbing up the five chunks of quartz shining slightly from the power stored within them. She is careful to not mess with the etched lines as she plants crystal after crystal, patting the dirt down around each one. She can’t help but notice that there are seven equally spaced spots spread around the edge of the circle. Five for the quartz and two empty spaces resting side by side that are, no doubt, for her and Beryl.

“Shh... Drink. Ah know it tastes terrible, but ya need ta drink it.” Beryl gently whispers out, holding the bowl up to their Orc’s lips and stroking the green-skinned woman’s hair. Khalia whimpers and recoils slightly, but she is trained well enough to do what Beryl tells her to, so after a bit of coaxing she reluctantly drinks the paste. “Good girl, good girl.”

Khalia retches slightly and shivers as the Elf pulls away, but she ultimately keeps herself from throwing up whatever she was just made to drink and remains sitting in place.

“Ya ready, my dearest love?” Beryl’s confidence wavers ever so slightly, though she does her best to hide it. “Just kneel there, at tha’ point. Press yer ‘ands against tha’ rock and, when Ah tell ya, gently push some mana inta it.”

Krvavy carefully lowers herself down onto the uneven ground, sitting on her ankles and tilting her head back to briefly look up, staring at the sky from her spot atop this rocky hilltop. There are a few clouds, but not enough to block the two moons. The smaller one is shining brightly, a circle of silver light high above their heads, while the larger has a dark disk stretched across its pale and radiant face.

Beryl takes a deep breath as the barbarian’s hands press against the stone. “Let’s begin.” She almost whispers out, placing her own hands on the rock in front of her.

Krvavy closes her eyes and forces herself to relax, focusing on moving mana through her channels and out of her palms. To the barbarian’s surprise, it is remarkably easy to get a faint stream of energy to flow free from her hands, suffusing into that stone. Is she getting better at manipulating her own mana, or is it simply because she didn’t try to shape it in any way? Or is the ritual, these lines scratched into the ground, helping her out in some way...?

Those are questions for later, not right now.

Confident that she won’t suddenly stop feeding this ritual, Krvavy slowly opens her eyes. The sight in front of her is kind of disappointing. It doesn’t look like anything has happened yet. She was expecting the etched lines to start glowing, at the very least.

Just as that thought passes through Krvavy’s head, the constant background noise of insects chirping and buzzing immediately cuts out. A heavy silence descends on the night, drowning out every little sound. Even her own heartbeat.

A chill runs down the barbarian’s spine.

The air grows heavy and thick. More oppressive than even the silence. The shadows that surround this ritual site grow longer, darker, deeper. One by one the stars that decorate the sky begin to flicker and fade. Like curtains being drawn, the light dims and dies, all sources being snuffed out together. All but one. The single, full moon continues to shine like a soft spotlight, gently beaming down from the heavens above.

It isn’t cold. If anything, it is a bit warmer out here than it really should be right now. Yet still Krvavy can see each puff of her breath. Like wisps of smoke that... sink to ground, twirling and dancing towards their death.

The silence is suddenly pierced by a single, soft sound. A low, rhythmic hum that seems to emanate from the darkness itself. But its familiar beauty betrays its true source.

Beryl kneels beside the barbarian, her lithe figure bent down in prostration. An intense look of concentration fills her face, eyes shut and lips pressed together. Her long ears wiggle as she lowly sways side to side, in time with the tune that surrounds them.

A tune that soon begins to shift.

The still air thrums as the calm and steady hum melts into a gentle lullaby, so soothing and peaceful. A light breeze picks up, swirling around them, as that peace is broken by an aggressive buzzing, like a hive disturbed or an army marching to war. For the briefest of moments, silence reigns once more as sorrow seeps in with mumbled mourning. That empty chill soon burns away under a trilling rumble of rage.

Emotions merge and blend together, overlapping and overwriting each other, as that melody flits around in a maddeningly patternless dance, with no rhyme or reason to it.

Khalia seems utterly unbothered by all that is happening, simply shivering and shuddering as she stretches her shoulders. “░░░░░░░░░” Her plump lips part, mouth open wide in a silent yawn that sees her flat tongue curled between her two little tusks. Her amber eyes droop down as exhaustion suddenly weighs heavily on her. She slowly curls up on the ground, head resting on hands, miraculously staying within the etched lines surrounding her.

The stone beneath Krvavy’s hands begins to shine ever so slightly, cracks of light spreading across its surface as it pulses in pace with the quartz crystals. Energy is pushed out into the lines etched on the ground, flowing almost like water towards the center of the ritual, finally making the pattern glow a gentle blue.

Krvavy feels something tugging at her core as the ritual pulls more mana through her palms. The ground rumbles slightly as the lines flare up, streaks of energy floating into the air like ribbons that wish to reach the sky.

Beryl’s shifting hum echoes all around them, each faint noise taking on a melody of its own. The sound soon becomes oppressive, a cacophony of discordant tones rumbling out from the surrounding darkness, almost as if dozens of people were standing just beyond the light, humming back to them.

Leafy buds sprout from the ground, spreading in a circle around Khalia’s slumbering form, just as Beryl’s head lifts up. The Elf’s eyes flutter open, meeting the moon’s gaze.

The buzzing, humming, murmuring cacophony continues to echo through Krvavy’s bones. Even as the Wood Elf by her side falls silent, her wispy breath ceasing as she goes still.

One by one, the little buds begin to burst open, vines reaching out from where flowers should be.

“░░░” The tomboy gasps and winces, tears trailing down her cheeks. She breathes deep, steeling her resolve. Order comes to the chaos as a song dances past her lips, lyrical and as beautiful as a dream, each sound elegantly moving into the next as she sweeps the unceasing hums aside.

It sounds as if there should be words in that Elf’s mesmerizing voice. Yet the barbarian can’t understand what any of them should be. Nor has she gotten a notification to tell her that she is learning a new language. And the more she focuses on those word-like noises, the more her head begins to throb, the more her head begins hurt... So she stops trying to understand those not-words.

The vines slowly weave themselves together as they continue to rise from the rocky soil, gradually forming a lattice barrier around Khalia. The ground shudders once more as roots emerge from below, travelling outwards radially from the circle of vines, arching over the etched lines that continue to shine with power.

Beryl’s breathless voice cracks, her body going tense as her singing suddenly becomes strained. The vines writhe and seem to meld together into a thick mass that completely engulfs the sleeping Orc in what quickly comes to look like a large flower bud.

A strong wind picks up out of nowhere, swirling around the edge of the unnatural darkness as Beryl’s song hits a peak.

The leafy bulb in the center of this ritual pulses and throbs, causing all seven roots to thicken as they push out between the seven outer points. Fat bulges travel up those roots, feeding the growing bud and causing it to shudder with each lump of nutrients forced into it.

A slight pain pierces through Krvavy’s core as her mana is roughly tugged on, the energy filling the etched lines rapidly flowing through the shallow canals. The glowing blue liquid circles the center, spiralling around the flower-like pattern and steadily feeding the ritual.

Life swells before Beryl and the barbarian, the bulb that swallowed Khalia whole engorging and growing ever larger, rising up to a height thrice that of Krvavy’s kneeling form before it suddenly stops. That swollen thing contracts as a light pierces out through its leafy flesh. For the briefest of moments, a faint silhouette of the Orc’s curled up body can be seen floating within this plant, before the glow grows far too intense and far too strong, drowning out her shadow.

Krvavy is quickly forced to shut her eyes and turn her head away from the blinding light, but that hardly changes a thing.

The pain at the back of Krvavy’s eyes is accompanied by a growing ache deep inside of her, her mana running dry as the ritual keeps trying to pull more from her core. The barbarian grimaces at the feeling and bites down onto her tongue. The fresh blood does little to refill her mana, but each point helps.

She doesn’t want Khalia to get stuck partway through... whatever this is.

After what could have been a few long minutes or just a brief moment, Beryl loudly gasps and the light abruptly cuts off. A soft thump thuds out from the direction of the Elf, pushing through the sounds of crickets and the night.

Krvavy blinks her sore eyes in the darkness as clouds slowly drift across the moons. The unnatural shadows are gone, as too is the swirling wind. The only light around them is from the lantern, sitting a small distance away, and the faint glow of the cloudy night sky.

Beryl’s ragged breathing draws the barbarian’s attention. The Elf is lying on her side, having collapsed onto the ground. A quick Inspect alleviates most of Krvavy’s concerns, as the Wood Elf is just drained and tired. Both her mana and stamina are completely empty, marked with red numbers indicating debuffs to their regeneration.

“Ah... am alright...” Beryl tiredly gasps out, breathing with the ease of a fish out of water. “Just... need a... a minute...”

The barbarian nods her head, glancing briefly towards the oversized plant. There doesn’t seem to be anything Krvavy can do about... that. With a sigh, she shuffles over to her Elf, pulling Beryl into a hug.

The two sit in silence for some time. It doesn’t take long for Beryl to steady herself, but even after her breathing has stabilized she still remains visibly fatigued and on the edge of passing out. Only that Wood Elf’s willpower keeps her conscious.

“So...” Krvavy slowly begins, “what exactly did you do...?”

“Ya... ya will see soon enough.” The tanned tomboy yawns back. “Just give... give yer puppy some time.”

Krvavy frowns, but ultimately listens.

She has waited this long to ‘fix’ Khalia, so a few more minutes won’t hurt.