NOVEL NEXT A Magical Lady
6/10 late afternoon
Ironaya and I walked the last five miles or so through the scorching desert, which wasn’t as long or as unpleasant as it might have been. Wild talent would have made it distinctly bearable on its own, and Watchers barely registered heat unless it was intense enough to forge steel. At twelve feet tall, we could also chew through the distance very quickly even while Ironaya provided me a primer on what to expect. I didn’t hybridize my form at all; for this excursion I was a watcher, maybe a keeper, nothing more and nothing less.
The halls took the form of a massive pyramid, guarded by large cat-centaurs known as Tol’Vir. Well, guarded from people other than us. I followed Ironaya’s lead when she stopped at the foot of a huge staircase; communication talent and disguise etiquette would have probably been enough to bullshit my way in, but she was actually authorized to enter.
The Tol’Vir watched in reverent awe as the four statues standing before the pyramid began to glow. Three of them looked like fairly typical Egyptian gods, with muscular bodies, white skirts, and animal heads. A ram glowing green, an eagle glowing gold, and a jackal glowing purple. The last of the four was a stacked glowing blue woman in a headscarf, with a distinctly human face. Kinda broke the theme, in my opinion. Why no Bast ripoff? Everyone loves catgirls.
Ironaya broke me out of my pondering by stepping out of position and gesturing at the exact spot she just vacated. “Prime Designate. You must be scanned for external contamination; I do not expect any problems but there are decontamination procedures if you trigger anything. Do as we discussed.”
Placing faith in my multiple defenses and ability to be resurrected if necessary, I obeyed my guide. The statues began glowing, and I heard the silent voices issuing from the four statues.
*Unknown watcher. Declare designation, role, and place of origin.*
Following the briefing that Ironaya had provided on the way, I thought my answer very hard. *Designation: Eros, coordinator first class, ambassador first class, overseer second class, general second class, combatant third class. Created in the Forge of Wills.* Given that there were only two facilities on Azeroth with the infrastructure necessary to create a full titanic watcher and one of them was here, that last part was an easy answer.
*Designation logged. Assessing construction for irregularities.*
*No Irregularities detected.*
*Assessing mind for irregularities*
*Mental state usually elastic. Within acceptable parameters for Ambassador role. Logged.*
*Assessing body for Corruption designation: Curse of Flesh.*
*Curse of Flesh not present in this host.*
*Assessing soul for irregularities.*
*Soul shows elevated levels of lust. Mental correction recommended, but deemed unnecessary for entry*
*You may proceed.*
Phew. That ambassador role was a good call on Ironaya’s part; it referred to watchers intended to interact extensively with non-titanic beings like dragons, trolls, and the wild gods. They tended to be a bit eccentric by titanic standards, so as to get along better with the mortals. Mostly for the sake of manipulating them, but that’s fine. As a first class ambassador, my titanic fellows will expect me to act more or less exactly like a mortal at all times. As a coordinator first class, I’ll be able to act in my preferred role as an advisor and imply that I’m here on behalf of a Keeper if needed. Archaedes, of course, as he was the only one that Ironaya could provide me with an up to date passcode for.
We walked into the front door of the pyramid, which opened as we approached. Inside we made our way past a large number of stone Tol’Vir, quarantined in here against the Curse of Flesh which made their kin outside both mortal and corruptible by the old gods. They sat quietly, guarding the Halls of Origination against any but the titan’s own uncorrupted creations. If they knew what I was, they would likely try to kill me on principle even without the mass brainwashing.
We walked past several layers of security, eventually reaching a section of the pyramid where the magical equivalent of exposed wiring caused the walls to glow a bright blue. On our way to the control center, we encountered a tall masculine Watcher who appeared to be performing maintenance. He was channeling a spell which scanned the area he pointed at, presumably so that he could assess it for damage and know where to perform repairs. He wore a large hat, and had a sunken humanlike face. I stopped to ask a few questions. “Watcher. What is your designation?”
He didn’t stop working, but spoke a single word in a mechanical monotone. “Anraphet.”
“He is doubtless low ranking, Eros.” Ironaya reported, “Unlikely to provide more information than requested. What is it that you wish to know?”
“Just if that pipe is a part of the reorigination device.”
“Confirmation.” Intoned Anraphet.
With a smile, I asked if a few more similar parts embedded in the wall were parts of the device, recieving a confirmation each time. I pulled out my pen and wrote “Eros’s device.” “Hey Anraphet. Please come over and look at this part.” He tensed with annoyance, showing that while he was hyperfocused on his task he wasn’t entirely without emotion. However, when he took a look at the pipe his demeanor shifted slightly.
“I detect no maintenance issues on this segment.”
“Who has authority over this device?”
“Eros.”
“What is your purpose?”
“To maintain the Halls of Origination.”
“Which I own.”
“Affirmative.”
“So you work for me?”
“Affirmative.” I felt a shift in the air as he declared his subservience to me. Suddenly the robotic being felt like a member of the retinue. Cairne’s upgrade would pay off nicely here.
“Excellent. If you request it, can you get the rest of those who operate the Reoriginator to examine that section?”
“Yes.”
And just like that, I was the ruler of the Halls of Origination. At my request, the first watcher that Anraphet retrieved was Isistet. Just as her statue promised, she was a smooth, pretty watcher with an hourglass figure. Apparently that was just a natural result of channeling substantial arcane energy; the elves were a fine example, becoming prettier and curvier on average with every generation of mages.
“What is your name and what is your primary function?” I asked her, coming out of stealth right after she read the scrawled label.
“I am Isistet. I monitor the flows of arcane energy which power the Halls of Origination and direct appropriate energy to my compatriots' thrones.” She responded, then commanded. “Identify yourself.”
“I am Eros, the owner of the Halls of Origination.” Her imperious attitude softened to a professional one as I spoke. “That means your Titan given purpose to maintain and operate my property, yes?”
“I suppose that is one way to describe it.”
“So your purpose is to serve my interests?”
She scoffed. “I maintain the Forge of Origination, but I am no servant of yours.”
“And yet your sole function is to maintain my property. Your entire existence has been in service to me, right?” I was pushing hard, but she didn’t seem likely to attack me or anything just because I annoyed her. She did recognize me as her implicit superior.
It was with substantial irritation that she finally admitted. “Yes. My entire existence is to serve you. Are you happy now?” Her mind realigned as she made that declaration, but she still wasn’t my eager servant. Just resigned. That wouldn’t do.
“Soon. First I need you to wear this bracelet. It’s for diagnostic purposes.” She grudgingly put on the proffered bracelet, allowing me to make a few system updates. “Now then, state your designation and roles.”
“Isiset. Mana Technician first class. Mage second class. Concubine second class, assigned to Prime Designate Eros. Enchanter second class. Mana binder second class. General third class. Maintenance third class.” I smiled as her new, entirely made up role as concubine slotted in right with the rest. I was mildly surprised to discover that I even had a working penis in my watcher form, given the robotic tone of most watchers, but I’ll take it. I pulled her through a portal into my house, leaving behind Ironaya and Anraphet to handle the Halls.
“Isiset, I need you to serve in your capacity as my concubine. I wish to relieve stress.”
“Of course. Would you prefer my mouth or hands?” As it turned out, she didn’t actually have genitalia of her own. Oh well. Nothing a quick shift into watcher/human or watcher/succubus hybrid form couldn’t solve.
••••••••••
Anveena was nervous, but excited. She didn’t really want to hurt anyone, but she needed to defeat this “Magus Rimtori” person. It was her job, and she really really wanted to be useful to Lord Bismark and the rest of the retinue. She didn’t know why Magus Rimtori was her target, but she was. The whole camp was full of blood elves, so she took an elf form of her own on the way in. She even knew the fashion and the language, so she was really good at being a blood elf.
Unfortunately, the more people knew about her, the more likely things would become complicated. So instead of anything elaborate, Anveena cast invisibility, strolled into the largest tent, and waited for her to come back. It was boring, but Anveena wasn’t a person. She was the Well of Eternity. She could wait patiently forever, if she had to.
When the pretty elf walked into her chambers, Anveena exited invisibility just so she could cast Polymorph: Bimbo on the magus. In moments, her defenses were overwhelmed. Where before she had been a pretty but professional mage, now her chest was ballooning outward and her black bob cut was shot through with colorful streaks. “Come on Rimtori! Let’s go pick up some guys, does that sound like fun?”
”Like… yah!”