Morning arrived faster than humanly possible, and it wasn’t long before a group of four women was chatting over a plate of plump plums.   

 “I realized we didn’t set a time to meet here, but I am glad we both wound up here before lunch,” said a sharply dressed Srassa. She had a bag by her chair, which held a second outfit. As soon as she got to the store, Dineria led her to a private room to change into her adventuring gear. With a practiced motion, Srassa raised her hood and smiled.  

If it had cat ears, she could almost be a Singi like me. Note to self, find a cloak with cat ears… 

“It’s the same with me,” Momo replied. She and Servi walked over to them and sat right down. After joining in the conversation, Momo realized Srassa had told Dineria about her uncomfortable and unsettling experience with her previous party. It took both of them to talk the angry tutor out of setting up a search party. Dineria bad-mouthed the two ‘bastards,’ as she put it, and mentioned she had a few hundred words she’d like to say to them.  

That was probably the spark that lit the flame of training within her bosom. At once, she stood up and escorted both to a weapon rack filled with wooden weapons.  

Right away, the lesson, which was just supposed to be a few practice matches with Srassa, had evolved into a full-blown day of grueling work.  

First, there was the sparring. Momo held her sword in a stance learned from her Elven instructor. It was flawed and weak, consequences for not keeping up with the training, and Dineria made that know. She fixed both girls’ positions and started the fight.  

Weakness filled Srassa’s limbs, causing her swipes to become slower than running through an ocean of molasses. She couldn’t block hardly any of Momo's blows, and when Srassa did go on the offensive, she was easily able to dodge out of the way and counterattack with her legs. The ruthless combination of being able to spring back, roll forward, dash left, hop into a side flip, balance on her hands, and slam her booted feet on her enemy’s sword’s flat edge amazed even Dineria.  

Srassa couldn’t pull back because she wasn’t that physically strong. Skills were forbidden for this first round of sparring, so she couldn’t use that to her advantage. Thus, she had no choice but to let go of her only weapon. A scowl filled her face, and a nervous sweat reinforced her failure.  

With that, the first round was Momo’s victory.  

And these sparring matches continued throughout the day that seemed so short. In-between each one, Dineria had her students run through the obstacle course a few times until they were pushed to their very limit. One time, she displayed a grueling brand-new workout that required every muscle in the body. From pushups to sit-ups to squats to ten different ways to stretch, a pair of voices grunted through it all.  

The second round went to Momo, and so did the third. The fourth and fifth played out the same way, but the sixth and final match had an interesting conclusion. 

It started off similarly, with a clashing of the wooden blades. Small chips flew off, leaving tiny gaps that harmed the swords’ structural integrity. Both combatants were pushed to the limit. All of the physical madness they endured was something like a ‘wake-up’ call, as Dineria put it, which would jumpstart their muscles and remind them of what they had conquered in the past.  

Momo’s chest heaved, the bent chainmail causing more discomfort than anything else. Her hands shivered like the chattering teeth of a man on the verge of hypothermia. An ocean’s worth of sweat swamped down her face, causing her eyes to go blurry. Her tail was so damp from the numerous times she had tripped in her own exhaustion that it couldn’t even wag.  

But if Momo was swimming in the middle of exhaustion, Srassa was similarly on the verge of losing consciousness. All day, she had done nothing but came in second. Perhaps that would have persuaded a weaker person to quit, but the difference between the girl and her anchor was dwindling by a bit. It felt like her left boot was made out of pure lead, but the determination to prove her skill—not to herself but for the friends she had met—gave her the strength to continue on. She’d pay for it the next day, of course. Srassa would probably roll on her bed, biting her lips to keep the agony and soreness from whisking out of her mouth.  

The final fight of the day was more so a battle between the minds. Each girl moved as fast as a turtle, so the swipes, slices, and thrusts were somewhat easy to deflect. The first problem was going on the offense. Even if the mind functioned like a well-oiled machine, the body couldn’t mimic that. It had its own set of built-in limiters designed to prevent it from breaking through the form of pain. Beyond that, once a person had thoroughly given their all, their body halts to a standstill.  

The question would be if the pair of fighters, who yelled at the top of their lungs with each strike, block, and dodge, could make it this long.  

And the answer to that was no. No, they could not.  

Not even six minutes into the battle, Momo lost her footing. Her balance abandoned her like the court’s respect for a criminal. One leg went this way, the other that way, and there just wasn’t enough left in the tank for her to regain her stance. She soon tumbled to her butt and almost banged her head against the ground. A Goddess saw to it that the worst-case scenario did not come to pass, but a loss was well within her future. Not even a second later, Momo felt the point of a wooden sword touch her neck.  

She opened her eyes and looked up, staring into the heaving face of her closest rival. Her hands soon shook with something fierce, the banging of a sword hitting the floor followed a moment later. Srassa’s face was of a happy one. Even if the victory came from a freak incident, Srassa had finally won against Momo, and the noble knew Momo didn’t give up the win to make her friend feel better. Jony probably would have done that, but Momo had far too much respect to give up a false victory that soured the spirit of competition.  

“Nice…fight…” squeaked Momo. Srassa tumbled to her knees and pressed her hands into the floor. If she hadn’t done it, the chances were high that she’d almost certainly kiss the floor.  

From a distance, a happy Elf clapped her pretty little hands. She turned around and picked up two small glasses, then walked to her darling students. Before speaking, she gave one of the cups to Srassa. A sniff confirmed it held a fruity scent, but something oddly salty resided within. She downed the green liquid and instantly puckered her lips and wrinkled her nose.  

“It isn’t the most delicious drink out there, but it will soothe your muscles from the inside. Momo, let me help you. Try not to spit it out,” informed the Elf. She crouched down and supported her Singi student by her back, then held the glass to her exceptionally dry lips. Momo’s tongue was ten to twenty times more sensitive than a Human’s, and she struggled far more in keeping the disgusting concoction down her throat.  

Her instructor wasn’t lying, and within a few seconds, the intense soreness had been downgraded. Instead of feeling like she was crushed by a giant slap of iron, it felt more like a metal bat had a date with each of her limbs.  

“This is called conditioning. Rather, it is an extreme form of it. By pushing your body to the utmost limit, you ‘shock’ it into a state of hyper-awareness. The drink I gave you helps with the side effects, but you two are going to literally feel like death. But hey, that’s what you two wanted, right? Fisher Jin does something similar when he trains the new recruits. His is much, much harsher… If you ever feel like testing yourself, I’m sure I can arrange something together.” Dineria crouched down and poked her students’ cheeks. That was enough force to send Srassa barreling towards the ground. She landed flat on her back beside Momo, though their bodies were facing different directions. Still, their heads were right near each other. One looked at the other, and they shared a soft, agonizing, but ultimately a satisfied smile.  

It still took about fifteen minutes before either girl could move. It was a struggle to get their feet, and balance had all but abandoned them for greener pastures. Momo’s legs felt like pure jelly, and she hobbled over to the table. Srassa faired no better, eventually requiring her instructor’s assistance in even sitting down with falling back.  

“Hmm… Remember, this is what you two wanted, so there’s no need for any regret,” Dineria said as she popped a thick slice of plum past her pink lips. She sat down as well and crossed her lengthy legs. “I might as well talk about the best way to increase your Skill Energy Reservoir. It will naturally grow proportionally to your stamina. ‘A healthy body is a healthy mind’ is an excellent pearl of wisdom. Srassa, that’s why I didn’t allow you to use any skills. Momo, it’s the same with you. Unless you have a gigantic reservoir at the ready, you will always have to rely on your body.  

“The other way is to use as much Skill Energy as you possibly can, but there are some caveats. One: it is dangerous. Use too much, and you’re likely to fall into a coma. Use almost all of it, and you’re liable to flat out die. Two: You cannot sit there and use Lucem a dozen times to cheat the system. Yes, you’re technically draining yourself, and your reservoir will grow. In the long run, you’re just doing more harm than good. If you really want to get stronger, faster—become a better fighter, then you can’t take any shortcuts. If you want to maximize your gains, then alter the skills you use. Use them in different ways. Add variety in the amount of Skill Energy you give them. Lucem doesn’t need a lot, but it does have the capability to absorb much more than it requires to glow brighter and longer.  

“In short, you need to foster a healthy mental state. Think positive and picture the true reason why you want to get stronger. As long as you have a goal, you’ll get there. Now, take the next two days off and do not do any workouts at all. Your body needs a little bit of extra time to come down from the shock. After that, be sure to do what we did twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night.” 

“Alright! Servy’s my goal, so that’s who I’m gonna picture! Dineria, thank you again. I know we dropped by unannounced, so thank you for making time for us.” 

“I always have time for my students. Besides, the Dwarves I hired can run this store better than me,” Dineria replied. She popped another sweet plum into her mouth, her tongue assaulting it from all sides once her lips were sealed.  

By now, it was almost 6:30. The day had come and gone faster than Momo and Srassa realized. The latter swore they had only just walked through the doors a few hours ago at most, but she had actually been there for well over a third of the day. The next thirty minutes of pleasant chatter allowed the exhausted adventurers a relaxing chance to cool down. It also created the perfect opportunity to talk about what they were going to do during Servi’s next day off.  

The first thing that came to Srassa’s mind was the stable her family owned. She could instruct a driver to pick her up at 8 in the morning, then they could swing by Warden to grab Momo and Servi. The puzzled Singi asked where the stable was at, and Srassa answered. “It’s only about a twenty-minute ride out of the west gate. We have ten barns filled with the fastest horses Lando has ever seen. My family also runs a farm out there, but it’s mainly a side business to give the farmhands a means to an end. Father told them if they could maintain the land, our wagons, carriages, and horses, they could till the field and sell whatever they grew while keeping the profit."

“Eh?!?! Do you have cows?!” exclaimed Momo.  

Srassa chuckled cutely and nodded. “That we do. Cows, chickens, pigs… We have it all. Wait… Why are you crying?” 

“Because I love cows and horses! Oh!!! Look what Servy got me a while back!” Momo hastily searched within her enchanted back and pulled out a wooden carving of a horse and a cat. She sat it on the table and simply admired it as if it was worth over a million dupla. Srassa was impressed. Dineria? Internally, she vocalized that what she saw wasn’t worth more than a handful of dupla because she spotted a hundred errors and blemishes. Still, the naturalistic Elf recognized pure joy when she saw it. She kept her mouth shut and just felt happy for Momo.  

Soon, it was time for Dineria's students to head home, but not before Momo had a chance to tell some stories from her childhood about the horse she had helped take care of. Srassa saw the fondness for equestrians front and center in the Singi’s sapphire-colored eyes.  

Later, when they left the shopping center, the three of them were connected through Servi's hands while smiles plastered their pretty faces. Pain, agony, and extreme soreness were also readily apparent in how the three girls took small steps, but that just allowed them to spend more time together.  

Itarr was unable to experiment with the thousands of cod in her ring because the overactive guards were getting haughty. In just three days, she had to use Mortal Puppetry on no less than fifty people. Luckily, she was getting to the point she could identify a bigot based on their nonverbal body language. As alert as Momo wanted to be, she couldn't catch onto every slight detail about everyone they passed. She was a mortal with mortal limits, and really, what better entity to pick up the slack than a Goddess? 

She constantly saw in a 360-degree cone. Even if she closed her ‘eyes,’ the sense of sight refused to leave. Was it a curse? A blessing? Itarr didn’t know at all. She just continued to be an ever-watching guardian as Momo waved and hugged goodbye to Srassa. They ironed out the small details about what would assuredly be an excellent trip. Not just for Momo but also for Servi.  

“I’ve never been to a real farm before… Servy, I’m excited!!!” Momo bounced up and down as they walked back to Warden.  

---

Momo’s poor body was in constant agony that night, the next night, the night after that, and even the night past that. The only relief she had came from the shower Itarr so excellently provided. At the drop of a hat, she transformed it into a bath, allowing Momo to soak her aching muscles. It was even a struggle to snuggle with the girl who had her heart.  

Servi had a frequent tendency to shift a little bit here and there. It was just minute adjustments until she found the perfect spot like a restless dog, and while it should have been a blessing for Momo… 

It wasn’t.  

Her body was so sensitive, her skin was bruised and tender. Momo’s heart was strong and forged by the fires of adversity and challenges. She grunted her teeth, kept a lovely smile, and stood like a stalwart wall. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to ask a nearby Goddess for any healing, though the Divine Being was more than happy to offer any assistance.  

Myrabel, Grid, Denaire, and Becha all shared that sentiment when it was time for rehearsals to begin again. Unfortunately, they didn’t have that much time to actually talk about things because Bartholomew was not in the greatest of moods.  

For example, during the first scene, the indecisive director kept altering around the placement of the casket. It was obviously filled with a mannequin dressed like an Elf, and Momo thought the scene looked as good as it could ever be. Granted, half of her mind was distracted by pure agony and tired bones.  

Myrabel received some harsh criticism for how she positioned the funeral veil that was part of her grief costume for this opening scene. The three chosen to play the role of Shika’s children were sparred from any words. Momo was thankful for that because they were supposed to be from 12 to 15 years old. As such, they were played by literal children, and she didn’t want to see them cry from how cruel Bartholomew could be.  

Even after four hours, the majority of the cast and crew were standing around in their costumes, waiting for Bartholomew to sign off on the scene. His alterations were by tiny slivers, and it didn’t stop at just the location of Myrabel's veil. And it didn’t have anything to do with Myrabel’s acting or Servi’s crying.  

It just had to do with how the character Shika was positioned. The scripts he had handed out failed to declare any posture or stance. Wyima was cradling his weathered face inside his hands since he knew the days of rehearsals ahead of them had just gotten a whole lot longer.  

It took six hours for the scene to transition past the opening funeral to the desolate walk home, and by then, it was time to break for a brisk lunch. With bellies full, the rehearsals resumed again.  

The next three days followed similarly to the first, though Bartholomew’s time meddling in the scenes gradually decreased. They had yet to complete a full rehearsal from prologue to denouement, but Bartholomew was somehow happy with that. During the final meeting before breaking away for a day’s break, he congratulated the team assigned to the lighting. He mentioned that it no doubt took much effort to constantly send the Skill Energy needed to direct the positions and color of the bulbs. Next came his compliments to the ten musicians providing the complementary music.  

The powerful violin’s soft whisper of a purr was played most excellently when Shika’s first words indicated the play had begun. Her soliloquy about the fragility of a life synced with a powerful cello as a masterful Dwarf ran his bow across the strings. As Shika’s words turned more brooding— more dark and depressing about her newfound life as a widow, a Kobold inside the micro-orchestra raised his hands and poked the drums sitting in front of him. The heavy beats culminated with the end of a powerful scene. Myrabel tearfully grabbed her husband and shook with the power of a thousand infernos. She begged him to fight against the reaper—to cast doubt upon the Gods that beckoned his soul— to throw away the stone of his destiny and forge one anew!!!  

“I have far more praise to offer—about every single one of you. From the Singi who dash around backstage and pull out the sets to the Kobolds who do the heavy lifting… This production could not have gone as far as it had in these few days without your assistance.   

“Unfortunately, we are out of our allotted time. There was a reason I had chosen you all to play the roles you have… Wyima may have picked the cream of the crop, but these experienced eyes of mine can see in the future... Ohohoho!!! Or so I say! Take tomorrow to rest up because I am planning to do three full dress rehearsals a day. Once it is the 17th, we will do more and more until it consumes you… Once you close your eyes and see nothing but our production playing out in front of you, we are there. Should you staple your ears shut but still be able to hear our musicians, we are there. I desire full devotion above everything else. Take care now…” 

Woah… I just cannot get a reading on this man… Momo stood up from her chair in the audience and walked to the stage. The invisible cloak was safe and secure in Wyima’s hand, and there really wasn’t anything keeping Servi and Momo from leaving. She said goodbye to her friends and interlocked her fingers around Servi’s hand. Together, they had a rather uneventful walk back that ended with a somewhat delicious meal of nocturnal cod.  

After resting and filling their bellies, Servi curled up into a little ball on the bed.  Momo asked Itarr to bring out the metal basin she had been using as a bath. As the water gradually filled up, Momo stared at the floating sheet of metal. On paper, it was a shiny privacy curtain. In her mind, it was a barrier.  

Maybe… Soon… Yeah… Soon, I won’t even need that. I want Servy to see the real me… The one with no clothes… And I want to see her that way as well…  

She stripped down to her birthday suit and slipped right in. Itarr memorized the perfect temperature of how Momo liked her bath, and the Singi audibly proclaimed her utmost thanks to the ever-vigilant Goddess. The water came up to her shoulders, and she slumped down until her nose was just above it. Resting her entire being gave her a chance to soothe her weary body. But by now, it was sore in name only. The long soaks had done wonders in relieving the pain, and she felt something change inside her. More likely, it was a superficial feeling brought on by her overactive imagination.  

Or maybe it wasn’t.  

It was probably unbecoming of Momo, but she almost started to swim around her large tub. Her tail poked out like the fin of a shark as she circled around the perimeter. Momo didn’t know how to swim in the first place, so perhaps it was more accurate to say she coasted on the water’s surface.  

After lathering up and becoming a victim to the many, many suds hiding her nubile body, Momo leaned back in the water and watched as the soap washed off. It left a sea of foaminess in its wake. Her hair and tail were next, and even though she felt a tingling in her loins whenever she brushed the base of her tail, Momo refused to go a step farther. She had a real commitment to Servi—especially now that she was sharing a room with her. The last thing she needed was her passionate, girly moans to breach all the way inside Servi’s ear. Maybe once she had returned to normal…  

Would Servy mind if…we touched each other? When she’s back, of course… Or I can touch me, and she can touch herself… And Itarr…  

After dunking her head and rinsing her hair, Momo simply relaxed and audibly spoke in a quiet whisper.  

“That would be…nice… Sleep together…eat together…bathe together… Just doing everything together… Me and her… And her and me… It isn’t enough that that's what I want to happen… Servy needs to want it… Ahhh… This bath feels so nice… Still feels heretical to have a Goddess prepare it for me…” Then in a louder voice, Momo continued to speak as she played with her wet hair. “Itarr, thank you again for this… It’s only because of you that I’m able to bathe while staying near Servy… I’m almost done, so you won’t have to keep the tub floating for that much longer.” 

The girl stood up, the excess water just pouring off of her supple and nubile body. It spattered off the surface of the restless bath. Momo had already laid out a towel to step on, and there was another one right nearby for her body. That was her destination after returning her bathing supplies to her bag. She wasn’t close to running out, but a shopping trip was going to be needed in the near future. If not to stock back up on various supplies and toiletries, then an excuse to just spend some time with her Servi.  

 After drying off and slipping on her cutest pair of underwear, Momo strode past the floating privacy curtain. That was Itarr’s sign to completely dry off Momo, who uttered her thanks once more. The bathwater in the tub was safely stored inside Itarr's ring. The metal construction soon followed, and only a couple of minutes later, Servi and Momo were drifting off to sleep while holding each other.  

Morning wasn’t that far away. The sun had no choice but to rise again, and it was as inevitable as sand draining from the top of an hourglass to the bottom.