Crossing Boundaries Pt. 11

"I do not know why you are asking me permission," Siderva said slowly, licking her lips. "But you may, if you want. I don't think it will do anything, however."

She didn't know how it worked, only shuddering from the previous, looming, overbearing presence of feeling someone and something else in her mind, like a spike of presence and power that she couldn't shake free. It had lingered there, a memory that brought with it great pain and fear, and yet the serpent-woman did not at all feel as if she could tell him, "no," that she could stop Kael from entering her mind.

She didn't want it, didn't want anyone in her mind, but she still nodded compliantly, her hand loosely folded in her lap. Her smallest finger toyed with a rip in her robes, though the long, flowing fabric no longer hung correctly on her body and its original colour was nothing more than a memory. She was nothing to the human and she was nothing even to herself. So why even bother standing up for herself, in portraying even a scrap of worry about what was going to happen to her?

One thing she had learned about humans was that they got whatever they wanted, no questions asked. There was never any doubt about that.

Besides, her obedience was still locked into her, at least where it came from humans.

She was fortunate, anyway, that Kael had not simply used his power to disable her or end her life -- she did not know the true limits of psychic abilities, to be fair to her -- or, well, just ordered the dog to kill her. She was sure that the German Shepherd, thick with muscle even if she still had quite a feminine shape, could have torn her entirely in half if she wanted to, though Siderva did not contemplate her own death with any sense of concern. What could she possibly have to be concerned about there, after all?

No. No, there was nothing, nothing at all. She lowered her head obediently for him, Kael crouching before her. Siderva had not even seen him crossing the room, she must have been losing her touch. But her senses were dulled after so many years, the craving for alcohol and something beyond her reach, that flash of pleasure, simmering down her soul, bit by bit. Maybe, after time, even her soul would be reduced to nothing, leaving her whimpering, whining, craving something that would never come, that was never hers to take.

Ah, there went her thoughts again, one after the other, nothing really making any sense at all. She didn't know how she could think like that, her brain more scrambled than ever, settling, trying to calm and open her mind, to be peaceful, even if it was only for a little while.

Kael didn't like one bit how Siderva was acting, more subservient than a dog. It did not take someone that had lived as many years as the eldest of humans to know a broken soul when he saw one and his heart ached for her, burning and flaring up, his heart pounding. How could someone have done this to her? How could someone do such a thing to any other being, whether they were a human, an anthro or a dog?

He didn't know and he couldn't see it, not for himself. But he could try, slipping into her mind, using the touch of his fingers to her forehead to connect them. He didn't need to do that, of course, but he wanted her to know that he wasn't there to hurt her and a cold stab of mental penetration lancing right past her defences most likely wasn't the way to go.

She stiffened as he entered her mind and he murmured apologies, trying to be as light and as gentle as he could, as if he was only there to look and not to touch anything. Yet he was used to seeking out certain points, for example, to levitate another, to find what made them weightless, or to disable them, pinning their arms neatly to their sides. It was all about the mind and what triggers could be tapped, buttons pushed, in there, though it was more intuitive, not something that anyone could learn from a book. Some elder humans taught so that those that wished could increase their skills perhaps even beyond their natural abilities, but it was less that a human could not do something in most cases but that they would not do something. When they didn't need to, why would they, after all?

Not everything had to be done, after all, not every skill had to be used. Yet humans, in a way, had become slow and lazy, not understanding what they were all about, their abilities casually used. Anthros, at least, had spent centuries learning their species, evolving, growing as different species. And what did that leave humans behind as?

He did not have a fixed point to focus on, it being the first time that he had reached into another being's mind for that long. The effects he had placed on another human, long before, playing with friends, had been fleeting at best, though he had played most with trying to replicate magic with his psychic abilities before. That had always been his interest, but, in the ways of his mind, it would not be of any help there.

Mentally, Kael frowned. It was an unfamiliar landscape in there, floating and drifting, not knowing where he was going. There was a sense of memory around him, thoughts whipping by, but he did not look at them, for that was not his goal. In the pit of his stomach, something told him that he couldn't do anything to help her, not with what he knew so far, but he stubbornly pressed on, fighting against his intuition.

If anthros could build so much more of themselves when they did not have psychic abilities and still thrive, maybe there was another way in which he could help the serpent-woman, one way or another. That was what he believed and he plunged on whole-heartedly, sending reaching, searching tendrils into her, feeding through emotions.

Pain.

Hurt.

Craving.

Oh, so much craving. He had to pull back from that emotion of hers, for it was too much for him to handle, reeling with a sympathetic hiss, shaking his head.

Not in the mental world but the physical one, Giselle rose with a low growl, wanting to help her master, though she was not all that much in a position to do so. Her tail stiffened, wanting to tuck down unhappily, though all the canine could do was stand right there at his shoulder, her teeth and claws poised to act -- a knife would have taken too long when she had to be up close. And Kael had not ordered her to get a knife out. Whereas she was comfortable enough protecting her master to go against orders like that when she thought that it would benefit him, she didn't want to push her master in a way that he would not want her to. Still, keeping him alive was more important than anything else...

There was nothing in the serpent woman's mind, however, that led Kael to the source of her pain, the pain-pleasure, the training that he wanted to undo. She should never be craving something like that, which had then so cruelly been taken out of her reach, anger twisting in him. Or maybe it was more anger at himself, knowing that he couldn't do anything, frustrated at himself and the limitations of his power.

Yet, in the back of his mind, he knew that if the training and "brokenness" had been planted in her mind in the first place that there had to be a way to undo it too. Intrinsically, that made sense. Intuitively, he knew that was true. How to do it, however, when his psychic abilities were still in their infancy, he did not know.

He sighed as he withdrew, surprised to see Giselle so close to him, though he supposed that he should have expected that. She was still nude, however, and that was a little distracting to him, even if casual nudity amongst dogs was hardly unusual in the slightest. It was still unusual to him, enough so that he was at least a little bit distracted, preferring to spend his attention on Giselle, even though there was someone right there before him who needed his help rather desperately.

He couldn't help, after all, that he was still a young man with needs...and he did adore Giselle rather a lot.

"I'm sorry, Siderva," he said with difficulty, the snake's dark eyes fixed on his, though they lacked a human definition to them, setting his back up a little. "I can't do it. I'm sorry. But...maybe I can find someone who can fix it, fix the problem... I mean, I know it's much more than a little problem to you, it's not a mistake... But maybe there's a way for you to be back as you used to be, healthy and you again."

Siderva half-shrugged. There was no sense of disappointment in her, but, to be fair, it had been a long, long time indeed since she had felt something like that. With the cravings, the need always there, she had to deal with some feelings being stronger than others. When she did not hope for anything, however, disappointment was not something that she felt at all.

How strange...

She smiled, sitting back as he gave her space, though Kael stood, staying there, his expression twisted, lips pressed together. She tried to fish through her memory for what that expression meant, but she had never honestly seen upset on a human face without anger, anger directed at her, swiftly following it. Unconsciously, she tensed, though her mind also knew that there was nothing she could do about it. With trained animals, not anthros, it was something called "learned helplessness" or "tonic immobility", depending on how it presented itself, though Siderva had never heard the term to understand it.

"That is quite fine," she said softly, slowly, not wanting to incite him. "I am sorry if I have angered you, Kael. But I do not think there is changing anything in my mind."

He stared at her, blinking slowly.

"You can't want to live like that..."

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "But what sense is there in hoping for something that's not going to come? I was wondering though..." She took a breath: that was harder to get through than she had expected. "You are a human... Can you give me that...what the human soldier gave to me? Can you make me feel that pleasure again?"