Ogres and Ogresses Ch. 23

"Make this seed grow."

Zyra frowned. Very arduous indeed. "How?"

"Focus. Imagine it growing, push your mind. Feel the magic in your hands, and force it into the seed. Make the seed grow."

Zyra took the seed and stared at her palm. Fine, no problem. How hard could it be?

---

"Ah! Fuckta! Fuckta tis leecee! Bun bú raw yah leecee ka Satan!"

"Cursing the seed won't help it grow Zyra, though I am not curious as to what you are saying. Did I hear you say Satan? Do your people still believe in the Devil?"

"Tis leecee ee, da Devil."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just...I-I need a break."

Zyra wiped the sweat off of her brow.

All morning...all morning she had tried to make the seed grow. Nothing had happened. Her hands had tingled with so much magic they hurt, and the seed remained unaffected. Her tirades in the hunter code had started as mutters under her breath. Then soft spoken words, and then finally full out shouts.

Zyra was not one to use too many of the colorful words used when one was displeased with a situation. She liked the basics, fuck and burn in hell. The seed, the leecee, was bringing out a side of her she wasn't too happy about. She didn't care to entertain what Etaceh was asking.

She didn't understand much of her probing anyway. Satan was just one of the worst things you could call something. She supposed it might translate into something like, "Shit-Maker," or "Bowels Dweller."

"Alright, I'll give you a little time to catch your breath." Etaceh sighed. "I really thought you would be farther along today dear."

With a toss of her black robes, Etaceh walked out of the clearing. Once she was gone, Zyra collapsed. Her body would come to need that strange soothing water. She should have known that it would come with a price.

Zyra closed her eyes, trying to keep tears from forming. She missed her sisters. It was a lonely feeling, to speak your native tongue with no one around you to understand. She would die before she taught the witches the most sacred of Rovian traditions. There were Rovians who did not know the huntress code. She had already transgressed by simply teaching Rell. She smiled at the thought of him. She supposed he was at home by now. She wondered if he still practiced what she had taught him.

Rair should be preparing the Rovians for the winter. The snow time would be right around the corner. They would need more furs, salted meats, and work shifts to keep the water from completely freezing over. A tear slipped out of her eye.

She had never felt so alone.

"Hm...I thought I ssssmelled a hhhhero..."

Zyra's eyes popped open and she jumped up. Coming out of the trees was Scallen.

"Scallen!"

Zyra ran towards the basilisk and wrapped her arms around him. Scallen's lean frame was surprisingly sturdy. Zyra's force had not budged him, but he was clearly surprised by her reaction. Soon, he returned the hug.

"Wasss it you whhho cleared thissss land?"

"No. Most likely the witches. I am...oh..." Zyra pulled from Scallen's embrace and began to comb through the grass. "Damn it all!"

"What'ssss wrong?"

"I dropped my seed. I've been trying to make it grow all morning." She patted the ground frantically. "Come on, come on!"

"Calm yourssself. I can ssssee it."

Zyra let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness."

"Open your eyesss...ssssZzyra. I won't ssshow you whhhere. You ssshould be able to ssseee it. You are the keromedio, after all."

Zyra stood up, ready to give Scallen a piece of her mind, but before she could, he turned her to face the ground.

"Look. Usssee your gift."

Zyra let out a sigh. Tiredly, she squinted, trying to focus her power. In seconds, she saw seed, lying innocently on top of a blade of grass. She scooped it up and smiled.

"That was easy. Easier than growing this, that I can tell you."

"hhHm...let me sssseee."

Zyra obliged, handing the seed over. Scallen turned it over in his hands. He stared at it a moment before started a long round of hissing. It took a moment for Zyra to realize he was laughing.

"Hey! What's so funny?"

"Caligula hhhasss been rubbing off on her...in more waysss than one."

"Ew. Didn't need to know that."

"You couldn't grow thisss ssseeed if you trained for ten yearsss."

Zyra blinked. "...what?"

Scallen smirked widely. "It'ssss dead ssssZyra. The...ssssseeed hasss been boiled."

Zyra didn't know what to say. She had been training with Etaceh for five hours straight...and the seed was dead.

"...I'm going to kill her."

"With what? Your looksss?" Scallen rolled his eyes, the slitted green orbs resting in the sharp corner. "She hhasss taught you a lesssson, Green Eyesss. The witchesss cannot be trusssted."

"I didn't need to be taught that."

"And..." Scallen continued, with a pointed look, "...in order to sssurvive, you mussst be two ssstepsss ahead."

"Like you?"

"I knew you'd be hhere, didn't I?"

Scallen smirked at her, and then popped the seed into his mouth. He moved it from cheek to cheek before removing it and extending it towards her. Slightly disgusted, Zyra stretched her hand out to receive it.

"Now...be ssure to give it your bessst effort from now on. The witch approachhhessss..."

"What did you do?"

"Be ssure to keep my pressssence a sssecret sszZyra. Witchesss don't like to ssshare."

Zyra nodded, her heart sinking a little as the familiar face disappeared into the woods.

We'll keep in touch.

His mentally channeled message was like a warm kiss on her forehead. Zyra felt better.

"Zyra darling!"

Etaceh burst through the trees, a wide smile on her face.

"Happy? Refreshed?"

"No."

"Oh, let's begin anyway!"

Etaceh gestured for her to begin. Zyra nodded, opening her palm. If Etaceh noticed anything different about the seed she said nothing. Before Zyra started she decided to sweeten her odds.

"Etaceh, when are my next lessons?"

"Caligula's lessons will take place closer to dusk. He prefers it, Drama King and all."

"So then, I could have the afternoon off?"

Etaceh laughed. "You still haven't made the seed grow Zyra."

"If I make this thing grow, can I leave?"

Etaceh smirked. "Of course."

Zyra took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Focus, focus on the growth of the seed, the energy flowing into it. Feel the magic in your hands, the tingle, and let the seed grow. She heard something that sounded like sand pouring to the ground, and her hand grew heavy.

Opening her eyes, she saw the seed was now a beautiful red flower, unlike any she had ever seen. Inside of its center the petals formed a tiny cup, yellow dust spilling out from it. The more Zyra pumped into it, the more dust spilled out onto the grass. She could see red curls bursting beside her feet. By the time she had learned to pull back her magic, she stood in a circle of red flowers. The roots of the flower had curled around her fingers. She thought about pulling them away but the plant, which moved on its own accord, almost felt like it was purring. She left it be.

Etaceh's face was in absolute shock. Zyra gave her an innocent smile.

"Wow. That took long enough. I did it, didn't I? I made the seed grow."

"Yes...yes you did."

Etaceh strode forward, her toes just out of reach to the flowers. She raised a hand to touch the blossom in her hand and to Zyra's surprise, it pulled away. She smirked. Zyra was liking this plant more and more.

"Well...may I go?"

Etaceh looked over the plant a moment longer, and then gave Zyra a tight smile. "Yes. Your lessons with me are done for the day. Head back to the Marble Tree. Don't wander."

Zyra nodded tersely and started towards the Tree. She was annoyed that she could not go to see Scallen. She felt the blooms at her feet brush her, as though to say "bye" and "thank you." Perhaps the clearing would not be such a terrible training place.

"Zyra?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"Did you...happen to run into anything while I was gone?"

"Anything?"

"Or anyone."

"No."

"Alright."

Etaceh's calm expression cracked as soon as Zyra turned around. That bastard of a basilisk. Of all the things she could have summoned in his place that fateful day. If only she had used locusts or mud monsters. She could smell him in the air, basilisks left a certain earthy vapor, no doubt because of their time underground. Scallen had been here, and her keromedio was covering for him. She would have to speak with Caligula. Things were off to a rough start.

---

"Brother!"

Vine turned to see Talia racing to him. She stumbled into him, her eyes filled with joy.

"There has been word Brother."

"Of what?"

"A human! A human in our valley. It could be the adopted ones!" She embraced him.

Vine's heart began to race at the thought. The adopted ones, Enui and Gharla were precious to the nymphs of the valley. They had given and received, had loved and been loved. Gharla in particular had made his heart soar. It had been a long time since he had felt anything other than uncontrollable lust. Even now, Talia's proximity stirred desire inside of him. He supposed if he was human they would be of the same tribe. If he was a witch, they'd be of the same clan. Nymphs were not so picky with their brethren. Any nymph, no matter size or shape, was a sister or brother.

"You smell of lust brother," Talia whispered. He felt her body reshape under his arms. When he released her, she was the blue image of Gharla.

"Will this ease your suffering? Shall I exchange one kindness with another?"

Vine sighed. He wasn't sure how to explain to the young Talia that there was a difference between the copy and the genuine article. Talia had never been in love. At another time he might have indulged. Now was not that time. Besides, what need had he of copies when the real Gharla might be close?

"I must speak with our cousin to confirm this," Vine said evenly. "Forgive me. This is more urgent."

"It must be," Talia agreed, shifting back. "For you to refuse pleasure you must be quite troubled. But...must you speak to her?"

Vine chuckled, patting Talia's head. "She knows all of the happenings of the valley. I know not how, but if something must be known, she is the one to ask."

"But I hear she is sour. After the monokeros..."

"She is always sour. It makes no difference who caused such feelings."

Talia chuckled and Vine sunk into the earth. He travelled through the roots of trees until he was where he needed to be. Pulling himself up, he strode out to see her bathing herself in the water. Her breasts poked up provocatively, the hard pink nipples glistening with water.

"Hello cousin."

Hearing his voice made her whip around. Seeing he was not enticing prey made her drop her glamour. Nymare the Selkie glared at him angrily.

"Distant, cousin."

"Cousin nonetheless," Vine answered. Walking towards the edge. "We are both children of the water."

"What do you want?"

"Information."

"On what?"

"A human."

The Selkie swam farther back into the water. She didn't trust him, and had good reason not to. The nymphs thought it most fun to play with her, especially because she was so sensitive. There was nothing funnier to them than to hear her curses turn to pleas.

"Why should I tell you?"

Vine smirked. "I could always persuade you."

Nymare brayed, her eyes darkening. "If I could drown you I would."

"Well, you can't," Vine said. He was waist deep into the water, closing in on her. "And you know you do not have any other methods."

He was closer now, and he could see the panic in her eyes. Vine wasn't sure how to feel. As a nymph the first thing he paid attention to was the arousal she emitted. All other feelings were secondary. Arousal was permission. Was it sadistic to ignore her fear?

"Tell me, and I will leave."

"I tire of this pool," Nymare snapped.

"I tire of being ambushed and forced to do things."

Vine stopped. "I take it you didn't enjoy your mating?"

"I didn't conceive. I will never conceive. I am a hundred years old this year and I have no child."

Vine put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes sympathetic. "Do not fault yourself cousin. Give it time."

Nymare shook her head, smacking the hand off of her. "What would you know? Ruled not by mating but by primitive greed? I despise your kind. I despise all of you!"

"And so you share this place alone," Vine said.

"Now tell me what I need to know so you may be alone once more. Or shall I accept your invitation?"

Nymare froze, knowing what he meant. She blushed, unhappy that her body betrayed her so. Vine tried not to take offense to her dismay. No matter how many times they had lovingly instructed her on the innocent guiltlessness of pleasure, she never learned.

"She is where all humans end up," Nymare said. "The Marble Tree."

"Which one is she? Is she..."

"Your Serosta?"

Nymare laughed, her point teeth twisted and cruel. "Why don't you go yourself and see? But wait...haven't the witches been hurting your kind lately? Not worth it now, is it? Distant cousin?"

Vine didn't want to hear her anymore. He emerged from the pool and slid into the tree. He could get as close to the Marble Tree as possible using tree walking, then he'd have to stand in open field. His brethren wouldn't like it, but if it was Gharla he had to try. He needed to see her. He only hoped that she had kept her promise, his lodestone, close to her heart.

He fingered the feathered cord from Gharla's arrow for luck, and then proceeded to tree walk.

---

"You're not focusing Zyra."

"I am focusing!"

"Then prove it. Block my attack." Caligula sent another wave of magic at her and she tried to make a wall. Instead, she fell again, landing hard onto the ground.

"You disappoint me Zyra. I never thought you would be so...weak."

Caligula walked in a slow calculating circle as she sat up. Zyra had enough of him. If only she had brought a weapon with her. She'd show him how weak she was.

"You are not thinking of a wall," Caligula said, watching her stand. "You are distracted. You lack focus. Now...focus."

A wave of purple cut through the air and Zyra tried to block it. She went flying, landing roughly on top her bed of flowers. Caligula had knocked the breath out of her. Zyra trembled, her powers healing her rapidly, but doing nothing to prevent the pain of broken bone. The flowers' leaves rubbed at her sore back, trying their best to comfort her in their own way.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Then do better."

"I'm trying."

"Try harder."

"I said I'm trying!" Zyra forced herself to sit up, and glared daggers at him. "I can only try my best!"

"Your best would succeed." He bent beside her, his eyes swimming with malice. "You need incentive."

Zyra's breath caught when he leaned over her. She was about to punch him when she realized his hands were tangled in the flowers. High pitched sounds pierced her ears, and she looked down to see a mass of black spreading on the plants. They were screaming.

"Stop!" Zyra shrieked. "No!"

She found she could not move. Caligula held her down with magic. She tried to fight him but it was to no avail. When he stood, half of the flower circle was black. The other side was silent, stunned.

"I have killed half of your flower bed," Caligula said nonchalantly. "This wave of magic will kill the other half. Unless of course, you put up some kind of...blockade. A wall, perhaps?"

Zyra pulled herself up, hatred inside of her. Caligula waited a minute, then sent his attack. Zyra shouted as she forced her energy forward. For one shining second the wall appeared, faint, but there.

She would have rejoiced if it wasn't so weak. The moment Caligula's magic touched it, it collapsed and the wave sent her into the flower bed.

Zyra laid there, bruised and silent in the mass of dead plants.

The first flower was in her room. She had thought about putting it in the flower bed this morning. It had been a sentimental thought, reuniting the mother with her children. These plants were more than flowers. They had feelings and a tiny, but powerful voice, and she had failed them. Zyra failed.

"See how well you do under pressure?" Caligula looked over her immobile form. What a lovely form it was. "It's a shame that your best was not enough."

Zyra didn't speak.

"Nothing to say?" Caligula chuckled. "If that's isn't a first for the brave Rovian huntress? Let me give you something then. To ruminate."

Caligula's lips brushed her ear, and she felt sick to her stomach.

"You might have been special in the human world, but here you are behind. You will work harder. Your supposed best, will have to be better. Or every day, for how many days it takes, you will grow a new bed of flowers with Etaceh, and your failures will kill them."

His lips lingered, then he withdrew. "Well, that's enough for today. Be sure to take another bath. The hot springs have healing properties. Even with your powers, you might need a dip to speed things up. I will have Medean prepare your meal."

Zyra closed her eyes and willed him to disappear. When she opened them, it was dark. Night had fallen. She stood, dusting the black, brittle remains of the affectionate flowers off of her shoulders.

The moon rose about the Marble Tree, making its properties more unearthly than Zyra thought possible. Zyra looked up at the stars. The stories about The Purging spoke about humans who had run to the stars. They were never heard from again. She wondered if they were even alive. She wished she could run that far. Zyra turned to the flowers and cried.

"I'm sorry," she wept. "I failed you." Zyra stood there, thinking of the Caligula's cruelty, Etaceh's dishonesty, her family and friends, and Kail. Then she wiped her eyes. She wished someone from those stars could give her answer to the question that burned inside of her.

What do you do when your best is not good enough?

She gave everything, and here she was.

"What do you do when your best is not good enough?"

The stars didn't answer. Maybe that was an answer. You do nothing, everything had already been done. You cry, and then, wipe your eyes. Zyra swore to the moon that the witch Caligula would never reduce her to tears. Never again.

Medean watched as Zyra bowed solemnly to the decimated flower bush, and headed back towards the Marble Tree. Etaceh, who was disappointed that she had missed dinner, had instructed him to fetch her. When she spoke, he had almost thought she was speaking to him. Her eyes however, far away and filled with sadness, suggested otherwise.

Medean slid back into the darkness. When she walked into her room she met him placing her tray down on her table.

"Good evening. Your meal is warm and waiting for you. I used a spell to keep it so. I also have prepared night clothing for you."

He gestured to the bed. On it was a white long sleeved top and bottom, much more decent than the garment Caligula had left out for her the previous night.

She gave him a dirty look, and reached for the towel and soap that Etaceh had set out for her.

Medean clasped his hands.

"Miss, if I have offended you in any way..."

"Your very existence offends me." She turned to him, grinning bitterly. "How will you correct that Medean? I don't suppose you'd kill yourself for me now would you? I think its best you drop this cordial masquerade. You think I'm weak don't you?"

"On the contrary Miss. I think you're quite strong."

"Liar. You muck eating, fuck."

"I'm not lying Miss. I do not think you are weak at all."