I would never move again if I could help it, but someone seems to have other ideas. 

“I don’t mind roughing it when we’re on the road, but these sheets need to be replaced before this bed is suitable for habitation.” An aggrieved sounding Deirdre mumbles. 

Pressed between a double-sided warm embrace, I am coming to, haze fading into clarity. Not from unconsciousness or sleep, but from a girlfriend-induced stupor. Here Deirdre is trying to shoo us out of bed, and I groan at the abject horror of it, which maybe snaps me out of said stupor all the faster.

Curled up on my side as I am, I've only got one free hand, which is currently interlaced with Deirdre's fingers over her chest. Pulling free, I wrap my arm around Deirdre’s as far as I can and hold on tight like a boa constrictor. 

Not leaving. She’ll have to pry me off.

Fortunately, by virtue of nothing happening after her announcement, Deirdre appears like she wasn’t so much about to imminently slip away from our cuddling. Instead, maybe she is just stating her thoughts to the room by talking out loud while staring at the ceiling.

My wiggling, on the other hand, garners the attention of Liv, who, I realize now, is the warm body molded firmly behind me as a big spoon. Maybe sensing my movement then, she starts up to reaffirm her hold on me, not that I would even try to get out of her grasp. One of her hands goes from simply resting at my hip to wrapping tighter around my waist. Her other hand need not go anywhere. It is already as entrenched as it can be, resting on my shoulder, but by way of her arm, elbow bent, under my neck like a happy version of a chokehold.

Sorting out exactly who is where, as I return to the thinking world, fills me with several questions. 

Among them is not why Liv and Deirdre are resting their heads on pillows, but I am not, because Liv’s arm is clearly my pillow now. More importantly is why we’re snuggled up like this in the first place. 

Deirdre implied we ought to get up, but we shouldn’t be getting up. We should be getting more undressed. At some point, I’d lost my shirt, but I very much still had my panties on. All in all, it's a very confusing state I find myself in. Understandable, really, having been zoned out and busy feeling rather than paying attention, but still confusing.

So the real question was: why were we still wearing clothes at all? Liv and Deirdre are both in various states of undress but not nakedness.

Like a foggy shower room, memories of the recent past are a blur. There were the kisses. So many kisses. There was the fondling. But nothing more? Why not more?

I remember squirming around on the bed, a happy puddle being passing me between Liv and Deirdre to be kissed and touched. My body is in a state. Definitely not a sleepy post-orgasmic high. More like a coming down from a pulse-pounding tease high.

It is a floating feeling, delightful but mixed with a sort of noxious ache in my arms and legs. Honestly, not even unfamiliar. In the past, I’d have assumed the feeling was from extended playtime after muscle fatigue set in. Surely they hadn’t kissed me silly for that long, but I was certainly in a state for the duration, so it wasn’t off the table.

Then again, the feeling is accompanied by something I can’t quite put my finger on, like the strange feeling of something draining away, like a developing pressure, almost syrupy in nature.

The last time I felt my body and my mind all gummed up was... magic related? Looking inward is a sort of mental exercise that requires focus. I know Deirdre and Liv aren’t going anywhere right this second, so I focus on my thoughts and ignore everything else just for a moment.

At the nexus of my thoughts, where ideation joins memory is a sort of core room, is my space where my Spells reside. At that place, as always, are the concepts of Spells. They required a bit of rearranging to finally end up in their perfect places, totally readable, and immediately understandable. Fully conceptualized. Now, in that same mental space with three clear Spells, is a fourth blob of nebulous concept.

Like I did with Mellisa those many months ago, I jump at it enthusiastically, observing it into submission, making sense of the nothingness until it is clarified. When Mellisa had guided me, she’d directed me to make visualizations. Visualization was handy, but in the intervening time, I have learned it is best for me to define something not only by a visualization but by categorization. Heaping labels onto my spells helped me write a metal explanation of what the magic actually was. 

As I pick at the cloud of my new mysterious magic, I realize I don't exactly understand the principles behind the solidifying use of the yet unknown Spell. Like holding a cell phone and knowing how to use it but not knowing how it was assembled or why it works.

My other spells have the same underlying problem. I know Recovery mends wounds, using the normal process a body might heal them, sped up, and combined with the same supernatural healing one might find in a health potion. I also know I don’t understand the methods a body uses to mend its wounds over time, just that it does.

This Spell was another form of assistance, a utility to improve the characteristics of a person. 

My Aegis would help prevent you from getting a skinned knee if you got tired and tripped. Recovery would mend your skinned knee and soothe the ache in your muscles after you got tired and tripped. This spell would supersede the possibility of tripping to begin with by getting you where you were going faster before you even got tired. This spell didn’t focus solely on prevention; it was more like a body-wide accelerant. The same as lighter fluid would keep a fire raging. This spell would keep your muscles pumping. By my understanding, from the magically induced connection to Spell one would run faster, workout longer, and climb faster while under its effects. All in all, like trading Mana for more energy.

Be it by the gods or the universe, or whatever, this certainly would be helpful. Helpful for me, helpful for my teammates, helpful basically every day. 

Its properties were simple, not dissimilar to my other Spells. I suppose that meant I wouldn’t be branching away from my largely combat-ineffective support Spells which was sort of a drag. At this point, I haven't exactly gotten my hopes up or anything. So I wouldn’t be throwing fireballs or levitating, or anything cool like that, oh well. At least my Spells would continue to be beneficial to those around me.

It needs a good name. It being my new not-magic-steroids, mana energy drink, fantasy nitrous oxide. Since it was infusing mana into the body’s process of making energy and boosting it to a high degree for a period, I guess I’d just have to call it Synthesis for the time being. Going off a single general education chemistry class, that ought to fit the vibe. 

“Mmm.” I hum out loud, receding from my meditative state. It hasn’t been long—seconds, really. Like Mellisa once told me, kids figure this stuff out on their own; it's all intuitive for this world.

It’s so warm, and my body still yearns for my girlfriends to put their hands back on me, but I also want to share my revelation. 

“I got another Spell.” I say, my lips perilously close to Liv’s arm, the warmth of my breath partially reflecting back at me.

Then, to help explain, I find the concept in my mind and hit the enter key on its command execution at the target of Party. 

 

So close, I can feel the tiniest movements from Deirdre and Liv as it takes effect. For me, it feels like a jolt of electricity leaching into every inch of my body. It isn’t a distressing feeling at all, in fact, it makes me feel powerful. 

“Oh give me a break. Another Spell already. Liv, bite her for me.” Deirdre beside me huffs.

Liv obligingly nibbles on the expanse of my exposed neck. Her teeth, extra sharp on account of her racial features, poke around playfully until I can help but let out a whine and squirm against her hold. 

Deirdre, certainly noticing my struggles, laughs softly. Heat blossoms fiercely inside my belly as Liv gives a final, firmer bite to my neck, and I pull taut against Liv’s hold as she does it. 

“Hey this is pretty cool Evelyn. Feels like I could swing a tree like a baseball bat.” Liv says ignoring the act of messing with me completely.

“I’ll be faster, can't wait to try that out.” Deirdre adds.

“I take it back, anything that makes her faster is off limits when we’re training.” Liv replies.

Still here. Between two half-naked women. The ache between my legs goes totally ignored.

“So what, um- what brought this on? I sort of- we’re not actually getting up, are we?” I mumble through the murky waters of arousal, hiding my face deep into the crook of Liv’s arm.

“I think we’re done for the evening. Like I said, we need to clean up and also find dinner.” Deirdre replies while holding a hand in front of her face, moving and flexing, probably sensing out the effect my Spell is having on her body. 

I whine petulantly, the thought of these two seriously getting up leaving me like this.

“Or we could all pile in the other bed later and not clean this one up.” Liv states, which Deirdre pointedly ignores. 

I mostly don’t care, having other, more salacious thoughts lighting up my brain like a pinball machine. 

“Seriously, what the heck you two? You’re just going to stop now?” I ask, desperate and needy, verging on upset that we’re not on course toward to screw.

Deirdre shuffles, turning more towards me.

“Evelyn it’s not like we can’t tell you’re horny, but settle down. Nothing more is happening tonight because you’re too out of it for that. Don’t forget our discussion about how you can get.”

Deirdre is referring to when I openly and brutally honestly explained to her that I am a masochistic sucker prone to falling apart at the feet of any pretty woman that wanted me. I also told her that at times like this, I might not be in the best state of mind to be making important decisions. 

Again, I fuss, and this time Liv kisses the back of my head while I do it. It is definitely a mollifying kiss. Liv and Deirdre were actually stopping things then, like right now. When the heck did these two get on the same wavelength? Did they discuss this beforehand or something? 

Is it reasonable for these two to be making the decision on my behalf that we’re not doing anything further tonight? Maybe. But for my mushy, steaming brain, all I want and all I can think about while they get us up and out of bed and scrubbed up for dinner and sleep is that I still want them to jump my bones.

 

***

 

Last night, despite the cold shower-esque middle, did ultimately end with all three of us squishing into the bed that Liv was originally sleeping in. It was too small for three to fit comfortably, but we made it work. Or rather, they bullied me between them and took up all the space. But it was still great. Maybe the easiest I’ve fallen asleep in months.

“Not going to spend the entire day training, right?” I ask, on our way into town. Along with some supply restocking, our intent was to grab breakfast and head for the lodge. That lodge had lots of books, and I’m dying to do some research.

“Oh there will be training all right, but not all day.” Deirdre assures me. 

Our exploration takes us towards the waterfront, where we find plenty of grub to get our stomachs filled and the day started.

The harbor here is pretty expansive. Stone jetties made of the same material as the cobbled streets below us extend into large piers that stretch out towards the bay in several places. Some are so large that they even have buildings on them. The bay the city seems to be wrapping around is enclosed. Out far in the water, barely visible with only a lighthouse sitting atop it, is a strip of land, probably preventing the worst of the surf from hitting the harbor.

Wooden docks jut out from every stone pier, allowing various sizes of boats to dock at them. I don’t know why, but I expected to see a bunch of massive Spanish galleons parked here. Obviously, this is not the age of sail, nor does anyone sail deep waters. Instead, the harbor is dotted with much more mundane and practical craft.

Most of the large ships have either single or double masts. Little things, really. No flashy lines of cannons along their sides, just boxes on the water. Like most professionals in this world, they had probably found the best method for trade—in this case, sailing the shoreline for trade. Beside those trading cogs were hosts of smaller vessels, little tiny fishing things that would only fit a few people and had single triangular sails.

After restocking our supplies, which involves a plethora of Deirdre haggling for the best prices, we make for the Hunter’s Mark, the lodge where we’ve already paid our fees for a few days.

Inside, our little band parts ways. I have my sights on the bookshelves in the little room I spied the other day, meanwhile Liv made it known during breakfast that she wanted to ask around for the latest scuttlebutt. Deirdre, in contrast, workaholic that she was, decided to do some ‘warmups’ until it was time for our midday sparring session.

Adjacent to the lodge’s sitting room is a small library, empty when I make my way inside.

The walls of the small room are lined with shelves packed with an array of different-colored and sized books. There was practically no standardization among them. 

Browsing the lot, I notice the biggest share are massive, old, and dusty tomes that look like encyclopedias. Though the shelves are filled with what are clearly old books, some look to be in pristine condition. Handling them is strange. It almost feels like there is a film protecting them. I realize it must be some sort of enchantment, which would explain how some of these volumes are marked as being hundreds of years old but show no signs of wear and tear.

Sorting through different reads, while interesting, don’t catch my eye. I do want to learn about conflicts of the past, studies on cults, famous people, and places, which many of these books claim to have information about, but I don’t select them quite yet. Not until I spot a certain book do I scurry back to a sofa chair to get reading.

What I’ve found is ‘On the Races’’ by one Henry Lovell, a man who calls himself a British naturalist. Knowing the local date to be 1880. This book, which is written in print but looks like each page is stamped on, purports to come from a few hundred years ago. Which doesn’t necessarily explain when Henry Lovell himself is from, being that there would be an equivalent range of time on earth he could be from.

The inside is immediately interesting in a way I just have to devour.

The work claims to cover the various differences between ‘nearhumans’ that inhabit this world of ‘Ennead.’ His terminology either being of his time or his choice. From the start, Henry makes it clear that these racial differences are generalizations and that, like on earth, variation between people often negates such generalizations. Henry also declares the focus of this work to be biological differences between nearhumans and not psychological or behavioral differences.

Henry posits, in his opening chapter, that it is not the person that follows the abilities of their nearhuman race, but instead every person develops a nearhuman race to suit their person.

Evidence for this, he cites, is the uncanny ability of all denizens of the world to be quite comfortable with their bodies, feeling almost suited for them. Children grow into the bodies that fit them as their personalities develop. Also, those Reborn come into the world in a fully fledged state, already at peace with their new body.

He does bring up some good points. 

After his preamble, there is a list with page numbers for all the races covered. Immediately, I scan along and find the pairing ‘Devilkin/Demonkin.’ Frankly, because I’m nervous to read it. I decide to save that page for last.

Flipping through the pages searching for familiar races, just about every other page correlates to the race of someone I've met or seen. Some races have pages dedicated to them. Others are very short. Each section makes few speculations, instead listing observed skin hues, features, and other known characteristics found via study or questioning. Henry also makes note of advantages in the five senses that, as he finds, some races possess. Instead of the haphazard flipping, I change tact and purposefully start looking up fantasy races based on my experiences here.

First, of course, were Evans and Mellisa, a golem and an elf I met on my first day.

Golems, the text states, have increased physical durability and resistance to hostile magical effects. Their magical Spells and Abilities often extend to the domain of the ground, which, in turn, Henry says, means you will often find golems working the land as their chosen profession. Besides those specifics, Henry adds that Golems are stronger on average but slower than many other nearhuman races. 

Elves, or Fair Folk, as Henry also calls them, are frequently saddled with an innate extrasensory predisposition that helps them detect and understand magic, more so than many others. Moreover, they are often themselves possessing Spells rather than Abilities. The book also notes that Elves tend to have superb dexterity, allowing for an array of fine motor control advantages. 

Next, I search out Dryads, for the kind older lady in the Newcomer Building, and Dwarves, for Bvench and Dorg. 

Dryads, the text explains, have a higher degree of Spell manipulation that often allows them to use what magic they have in a variety of complex ways. Furthermore, their bodies are resistant to weather exposure, with the ability to regulate their temperature in the heat or cold.

Dwarves, Henry writes, are inclined towards the use of their extraordinary physique, being supernaturally robust and quick to heal any wounds. More frequently, he says, Dwarves possess Abilities over Spells.

Following those, I look up my girlfriends and teammates in the index and then flip to their pages to read what it says about them.

The Wolven, sometimes called Lupe, have superior physicality to the base humans. Stronger and faster than an average human in every way. Natural keen hearing, well beyond the ability of most. A slight trend towards Abilities over Spells. Strong individual food preferences and no discernible physical disadvantages in comparison to other races. 

Halfling, or Smallfolk. Are described as having unparalleled balance and agility. Henry gives little else, only that Halflings vary too much for more generalizations to be made about their bodies. He does, however, note that many Halflings have reflexes so supernatural as to be concerningly adept at some games of chance.

I search up more of the races encountered in recent memory.

Apidae, or Beekin, Henry says, due to their high finesse and ability to discern fine detail, more easily see and understand small and complex things, helping them to become fastidious tinkers that excel at craftsmanship. Further, he states, they tend to be less resilient and sturdy than many other races, but by no means more fragile than a typical human might be.

Vampires, or Dhampir, Henry writes, have some of the highest inclination towards Spells over Abilities observed. He states that their bodies are honed to a supernatural degree to control and manipulate their magic. Dhampir, he explains, like Elves, can often feel something enchanted and immediately know it is enchanted. While prenaturally quick, Henry describes Dhampirs as not having the stamina to keep up with their own speed and reflexes in comparison to other races. On the subject of food consumption, blood or otherwise, Henry says he cannot draw any conclusions in this regard and, as everyone studied, revealed highly unique preferences and inclinations. 

The page dedicated to Merfolk is short. Describing them as highly varied, like Halflings, but generally lean of body and possessing supernatural flexibility and dexterity. 

Birdkin or Avians possess acute eyesight and have a body supernaturally acclimated to long periods of study or observation, being resistant to some types of fatigue. Moreover, like Apidae, they are often no more hardy to weather, strain, or damage than your average human. Henry makes special note, that Birdkin may be too broad a category citing the variability different Birdkin stylizations.   

The Orcish Henry writes in great detail that while possessing superior muscle mass, many do not have a correlating degree of strength. While much stronger than any human, the Orcish are only supernaturally strong, not ludicrously so. More interesting, he says, are that the Orcish have a keen magic sense, and excellent precision of movement. 

Oni, Henry writes, have bodies well suited to every type of physical strain. Supernaturally resilient against everything from magic to cuts and scrapes. Strength to match most other races and few disadvantages, besides a notable need for more sleep than most. Taste, he explains, is their strongest sense, with many Oni possessing the ability to easily suss out every ingredient in their food or drink by taste alone.

There are dozens more I want to look up, but unable to stand it much longer, I finally turn to the dreaded section on devilkin.