Fox, Satyr, Dragon Pt. 01

Her magic was off the whole day, still needing to recover from the torture that casting the name of Stone upon herself had caused. She did not reveal what she had done to anyone that noticed, even Natalia, and simply said she was tired because she hadn't adjusted to school yet. The excuse was accepted as no one saw any reason for her to lie. And so, no one was witness to the benevolence and bravery of Sasha Blackvine as she walked with her head held high into the storm she knew was waiting for her.

Chapter 11: Sarkan

Jack held her hand out toward the blacksmith apron hanging on its hook in her personal forge. She held her scope and her intent in her mind. She thought of the spell, a matter of simple recall and not weaving. The apron didn't move. Jack tried again. A flutter of the apron's hem. Again. A flutter. Again. The apron shot up, slammed against the ceiling, then crumpled with a heavy thud on the floor. Again. The apron... Didn't move. Not a shift. Not a flutter. Nothing. Jack had managed it that very morning, while using her prosthetics, with no issue.

Jack grabbed a practice sword and shoved it into its scabbard. She slammed the door shut, locked the forge, and ran. Her running shoes slammed into the stones used for the hall's flooring, each thunderous step sending waves up her legs. She pushed herself to run faster into a sprint. Jack raced through the Forge with a preternatural speed that could only be attained, and maintained, due to her prosthetics. The source of her daily anger, grief, and - preposterously - joy.

Upon entering the main atrium of the Forge, Jack noticed and accounted for every object, animate and inanimate, that could be an obstacle or a threat. Something that she did without thought. She was a few meters from the couple making out before they even heard her coming. They split with gasps and curses but it was unnecessary as Jack was already soaring over them, her legs spread like a hurdler. She landed in dread silence on their other side and ran through the Forge's automatic double doors within a hair's breadth of colliding with their edges.

The journey to the training gym was a blur and she never chose to swerve around anything that got in her way. The obstacle either scrambled to move or Jack would jump over. As a courtesy. Her frustration, her fuel for this warpath, wanted her to go through whatever got in her way.

"Fifteen doppels. Full attack mode. Not Artifacted." Jack shouted as she entered Seymour's office. His assistant had seen her arrival and had directed her without question.

"You got it." Seymour stood. "Sorry, Bran. We can resume our coffee another day."

Branigan followed them, hands in the pockets of his tweed suit. "Can I watch?"

"You're in for a sight." Seymour sighed.

In the combat room closest to Seymour's office, Jack took her place by the wall to the far left of the door. The room could comfortably seat thirty people with plenty of space to move around and looked even larger due to the floor length mirrors lining the wall Jack was standing in front of. Its floors were warded wood, treated with special potions to give them some bounce. Seymour went through a door on the far right, leaving Branigan to calmly gaze upon the Sarkan idly swinging her sword around her head. As the doppels began walking out of the side room and assembling in formation, Branigan spoke. Just barely loud enough for Jack to hear. "Thrash and chomp, Sarkan."

Jack slowly lowered her sword and looked at him. Her chin lowered in the barest hint of a nod before entering a fighting stance. "Draw iron with steel, Sarkan." Jack murmured. Branigan heard and he smiled.

Seymour stood, with his sword hand raised in a fist, to Branigan's right. "They'll be looking to hurt you, Jack."

"Good."

"Be reasonable in damaging them."

"I'll try."

"Better than no, I suppose." Seymour dropped his hand. If doppels had souls, his hand would have been that of an executioner's.

With Jack Sarkan as his axe.

She, in every sense of the word, exploded into action. The distance between her and the doppels closed in two heartbeats without a word or shout. The first of the straw-filled dummies was slain by a simple stab through its chest. While it was still impaled on her sword, Jack lifted it and swung. The doppel rocketed into four of its companions and they all fell into a mess. She paid them no mind, busy fending off three doppels attacking at once. Two wielded swords while a third stabbed at her from a distance with its spear. In the middle of weaving away from twin chops, Jack switched her sword to her left hand. With her right hand free, she grabbed the spear by its shaft and tugged it out of its owner's grip. She threw the spear savagely at a doppel approaching her from behind, killing it. The weaponless doppel was slain by a slash and its two companions were beheaded.

"So much for reasonable damage." Branigan said as two doppels were relieved of arms.

"They're meant to be damaged. As badly as needed." Seymour said. Jack swept out the legs of a doppel and killed it before it hit the ground. "I just didn't want to deal with repairing them."

"Make your assistant do it." Branigan said. "The coffee he made was horrible."

"I made the coffee."

"Then you deserve it."

Jack's systematic slaughter of the doppels was impressive. That she did it without a single word or gasp escaping her elicited genuine admiration from Branigan. She honed her anger into a cold, silent steel and wielded it with precision. Even when the ice melted into hot fury, in the form of beheading doppels instead of a simple stab, Branigan saw that she never truly lost control. Never caved and became a rampaging beast overtaken by adrenaline and bloodlust. He understood why Jack had used the more self-possessed war cry of House Sarkan. Thrash and chomp is what an animal did. This Sarkan was a machine.

Jack chopped the last doppel, from skull to crotch, and it fell in twain. Branigan finally noticed another detail that made his jaw drop. Seymour saw this and chuckled. "See why I sent her after you?" He roughly clapped him on the shoulder. "She got cocky and slipped up that day. Don't count on teaching her that same lesson again."

The young Sarkan had stayed in the same general area for the whole twenty minutes it had taken her to kill all the doppels. A zone of dominance only a handful of paces in diameter.

Jack passed Branigan while he stared at the spot, holding her sword by its sheathed blade and acknowledging him with only a nod. As Seymour cleaned up, he called out to Branigan. "Go sit with her, Branigan. She'll be in my meditation garden a few doors down."

"Shouldn't she be alone?" Branigan asked. "She's clearly distressed, Seymour. Don't think she needs me bothering her."

"You're right, she doesn't." Seymour said. "Just sit with her. She may not talk. But sit with her. Be a friend."

Branigan nodded. "I can do that."

The meditation garden wasn't much of a garden. It had fake grass that felt real and a small fountain in the corner providing a soothing burbling sound. Jack was sitting cross-legged next to it, leaning on the wall with her right hand in the water. "I don't want to talk, Bran."

"I'm not here to talk." Branigan left his shoes next to hers before sitting down. He stretched his legs out and breathed deeply. Unseen diffusers filled the air with a hint of jasmine. "Just giving company. Quiet company."

Jack smiled. Slightly. Beating up the fifteen doppels had lightened her mood a bit. "I was under the impression that you don't know how to be silent."

"Nonsense." Branigan scoffed. "I can be as silent as a stone."

And he was.

***

Jack got up off the steps of Branigan's cabin as she saw him approaching. "Hey."

"Hello." Branigan unlocked the door. "Were you waiting long?"

"Nah. A few minutes." Jack went into the cabin, hands held behind her back since her leggings didn't have pockets. "I wanted to say thank you for the company earlier."

"Anytime." Branigan said. He opened his fridge and took out a large tupperware container. "Anette gave me some lasagna. Would you like some?"

"Sure." Jack said. "Today's been that kinda day."

"I bet it has." Branigan started preheating the oven. "Are you in the mood to talk now?"

Jack opened her mouth, shut it, then looked around the room. She noticed Branigan's family picture. "That's the lady that interrupted my date with Natalia."

"Yep."

"Your mom?"

"Yep."

"Cool." Jack looked for more distractions, found none, then sat down with a heavy sigh.

"We don't have to talk about what's bothering you, Jack." Branigan said. "It was an offer, that's all."

"It's just... I." Jack shut her mouth again, head and shoulders slumped. "I'm a damn good fighter. My legs let me do that. These fakes. Wouldn't be able to do what I do if I was in a wheelchair."

Branigan placed a glass of water in front of her, then moved over a chair from the dining table so he could sit across from her. He rested his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers, slowly bouncing the tips against each other. He did this in silence, allowing Jack to find the will to speak and the words to use.

"But if I want to use my magic to be a Dra. Cast spells." Jack said. "Be an Artificer... Then I'm fucked. I can't. These damn legs don't let me. They affect my fein too much. And not even all the time! This morning I could do spells properly. Like a normal Dra. Then in the afternoon I... Well I couldn't."

"Which is why you destroyed a few doppels. Vent the rage."

"Very mature, I know."

"It's better than taking it out on other people. Or yourself." Branigan said. "You needed to vent. So you did it with exercise. Nothing wrong with that."

"I can't exercise whenever my magic doesn't listen to me."

"Do you go to class in your wheelchair or with your prosthetics?"

"I only go in my wheelchair if we're having an exam."

"Jack, and I know I'm pointing out the obvious here," Branigan leaned forward. "You do know you're you whether you're in a wheelchair or not? Jack Sarkan is a Dra, an Artificer, and a fighter. All three."

"It doesn't feel that way."

"Because you're putting the expectation on yourself."

"Of course I am!" Jack shouted. "I have to! I have to show that I can't be stopped."

"Jack." Branigan cocked his head to the side. "You do show that. Every day. It's goddamn inspiring."

"Nat said the same thing."

"She's right. We're both right." Branigan said. "But you don't see it. You don't see how strong you are."

"I'm not strong, Bran." Jack's jaw and fists were clenched. "I was put in a shitty position and I had to make a choice. If you've got an option between giving up on life and essentially dying or standing up and moving, then of-fucking-course you're going to pick the second!"

"No, Jack." Branigan said, voice scarcely above a whisper. "The choice is not that easy. You know it. You've just done it so often that it's second nature."

Jack saw it in him. His magic wasn't weakened like hers. But Branigan had to make a choice every day, just like her, to keep going.

"So I keep going like I have been." She said after a few moments of silence. "Keep going and keep getting frustrated now and then."

"Yep."

"What if I get tired?"

"You've got friends. As cheesy as it sounds." Branigan said. "I've been here a week, amongst friends, and I've already gotten stronger. Less tired."

"Really?"

"Mhm." Branigan said. "You've got Sasha and Natalia. Seymour."

"You?" Jack smiled.

"Yes. But I'm new so I understand if I'm not the first option."

"There's something about you, Bran." Jack said. "It draws people to you even if they've only known you for two seconds."

"Whatever it is, I'm thankful for it." Branigan stood as the oven beeped and indicated that it was done preheating. "Makes me a lot of friends and I can never have too much."

"A mesmer?"

"I'm flattered you think I'm powerful enough to cast a mesmer this complicated for this long with no fuck ups." Branigan snorted. "On some of the most powerful Dra in the world."

"Fair." Jack said. "Thanks, Bran. You've really helped me today."

"No problem." Branigan pointed at the lasagna. "You still emotionally drained enough to crave an unhealthy amount of carbs?"

"Absolutely." Jack said. "Tweed looks good on you."

"Right?" Branigan said. "Thank you."

Jack had had a date with Natalia. She was planning on taking Sasha out tomorrow after they worked in the morning. Could she go three for three and add Branigan to the mix? Sure Coach Seymour had only told her to be friends with Branigan. That didn't mean they couldn't be something more. Branigan had been great to her after the tantrum she had had that morning. No judgement. If anything he had stared at her slack jawed at her skill. Even Jack wasn't immune to admiration, especially when there was no hint of envy. Jack smiled, making a decision. Three for three it would be.

"What are you smiling at?" Branigan said, before twisting to look at his own butt. "Did my pants tear?"

"Nah." Jack stepped up to him, hands behind her back and chest slightly thrust forward. She regretted her choice to wear a loose shirt but her breasts were hard to ignore, even when covered. "I hung out with Nat a bit before coming here. She mentioned that she and Sasha want to date you. And that you accepted."

Branigan's smile was subtle. "I did."

"Sneak around with me too, Mr. Stone." She was pressed up to him completely now.

"I'm not looking for anything casual." Branigan kept his hands to himself, suppressing the urge to shove her against the island and kiss her deeply. "We'll be sneaking around, yes. But aiming for this to be a serious commitment."

"I'm all yours, Bran." Jack blushed. The energy between them grew warmer and she could almost taste how hard he was holding back. "Yours, Natalia's, and Sasha's."

"Can you handle this?" Branigan asked. "Three relationships during your final year in school."

"I like challenges." Jack said. "Did you ask those two that question?"

"No but I should have."

"Don't worry." Jack put her arms around his neck, her lips mere inches from his. "Besides. I'm sure the benefits will greatly outweigh the costs."

Branigan leaned into her kiss. It remained an innocent pressing of lips for a scarce second before their mouths widened to accept the other's tongue. Branigan's rigid fingers clawed down her spine, over the curve of her lower back, and onto Jack's thick ass. Jack stepped forward, pushing Branigan against the counter so she could lean more of her weight onto him. The two lost track of the time in their embrace, taking the smallest breaks for quick inhalations of air. When the oven beeped, rudely alerting them that the lasagna was done reheating, they still did not pull away from the hug.

"Competitive." Branigan said. "I like it."

"I'm not done." Jack said. "But I'm hungry."

***

Sasha and Jack left the Forge at noon, having spent the morning brainstorming their action plan for the project. Best case scenario, they would have a functional prototype that would work on the lab rats they would have to purchase. Then they could show it off to the parents that came for exhibition day, many of whom worked for companies that could be very interested in what they had to offer. Sasha, like many others, liked the idea of having a job waiting for her right after graduation. Jack wasn't concerned as she'd had a job waiting for her the second she was born as a child of House Sarkan. Her time at Foxcastle was simply for tradition's sake and because she didn't plan on working for her family's company right after graduation.

"How about we have an actual date?" Jack asked as Sasha stretched.

"Right now?"

"Yeah." Jack said. "I'm hungry."

Sasha raised an eyebrow, playing at being a haughty princess. "Natalia got a cute picnic breakfast. I get what? The cafeteria?"

Jack laughed. "Why do you think that?"

"Well where're you going to get food from?"

"It's a Saturday." Jack held her hand out. Natalia had given Jack tips for how to handle a date with Sasha and so she proceeded by showing none of the nervousness she felt. "Restaurants from town set up food carts by the lake! My treat."

"Oh yeah!" Sasha's face eased into a bright smile as she took Jack's hand. She fell into step close to Jack, her fingers interlacing with the Sarkan's and her free hand resting on Jack's upper arm. This was because Jack had worked out before meeting with Sasha and had yet to take a shower. Natalia often teased Sasha about the latter's preference for sweaty athletes - especially since Natalia was the opposite of one - but Sasha took it in stride. She liked what she liked. And a sweaty, muscular fighter ticked all the right boxes. The knight to her princess.

"Not that I mind." Jack grinned. Sasha smelled like lavender. "But are you sure you wanna be this close to me? I haven't showered."

"I'm aware, Jack." Sasha squeezed Jack's arm against her breasts for emphasis. "Your muscles feel really good."

"Thank you. I made them myself." Jack felt their dynamic's foundation beginning to form. One that involved Sasha being the top. Not a chance, Blackvine. Not a chance in the world. Jack smoothly pulled her arm away and put it around Sasha's waist, squeezing it for a moment then maintaining the hold with a lighter grip.

"You can keep squeezing hard." Sasha said, under her breath. "I like a little pain."

Jack complied but drew no further attention to it. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Whatever doesn't make my breath smell bad." Sasha said. "Nat said you got a little handsy when you kissed her at the end of your date."

"Hands may have wandered."

"You're free to explore, Lady Sarkan."

The two settled on ramen and sat at one of the many tables that had been set up on the lakeshore, tall heaters spaced between so the diners could eat in warm comfort. The view above the table was innocent enough. Just two young women quietly enjoying bowls of hot ramen. The conversation was nonexistent but the resultant silence was not awkward. Under, however, the tablecloth provided cover for a more lascivious activity.

Sasha started things off relatively innocently by slipping a foot out of her shoe and sliding it up and down Jack's toned calves. They were prosthetics but Jack received every sensation as though the legs were real. While blowing on the ramen, Jack took her own foot out of her shoe. She imitated Sasha for only a second before sliding her foot up to Sasha's thigh. Jack scooted forward to the edge of her seat and Sasha did the same while spreading her legs. Any bystanders assumed the pink warmth of Jack and Sasha's cheeks to be from the rising steam from the ramen. Jack arched her foot forward and pressed into Sasha's crotch. Sasha bit down on her soup spoon to stop her soft moan from escaping. She moved forward more and spread her legs as wide as she could to give Jack more room. The Sarkan calmly ate her meal, completely ignoring Sasha as she began squirming more and more under Jack's foot. Sasha had spread her legs so Jack had taken it as a willingness to proceed. Jack's own groin had begun to ache with need but she ignored it. She pressed the balls of her feet into Sasha's crotch, grinding them while her toes wriggled freely.

Sasha had stopped eating with the spoon halfway to her mouth, her hand shaking and spilling the broth back into the bowl. Sasha's other hand was clenched into a tight fist on the table. She was breathing rapidly and doing her best to keep it low. A passing student noticed and took a single step towards the pair. Then she saw Jack's wink. The student's eyes widened over rapidly reddening cheeks and she speedwalked away. Sasha finally forced the spoon into her mouth and bit down, hard. Just in time for an orgasm to take her. She covered her convulsions masterfully but she did bend fully forward until her face was inches from her bowl.