Spellbound Ch. 07

"Ah, but have you ever worn clothing which was tailored to fit you?"

Melina hesitated a moment before admitting that she hadn't, afraid the small concession would invite further debate. She was correct.

"Then you haven't experienced the pleasure of clothing made specifically for your needs. It would be like claiming to hate wine, having only tasted soured failures." Melina shot him a perplexed look. He sighed. "Or claiming the bare forest floor is cold and uncomfortable, having only slept there once."

She raised her eyebrows at the admission; it was an upturned hand stretched towards her, offering a treaty of sorts. For if he were willing to learn of her world, pushing himself well beyond his personal comfort, why should she not be willing to do the same? She could not allow herself to be outdone by him, after all. She huffed.

"Alright, Vardan. You have my interest. I'll allow you to introduce me to this concept at the next opportunity." He smiled in response. "You must be the first man who's ever been so desperate to cover me up! Can't stand the sight of me?"

He laughed, and turned to look at her. "Permit me a moment, while I get a good look at the inside of my skull." And he rolled his eyes melodramatically.

As they continued onward, Vardan seemed to be in good spirits. So much so that he began whistling cheerily once their path led them down an easy decline. Melina attempted to tolerate it for a minute, her hands clenching nervously at nothing, before she snapped at him.

"Stop that!" she hissed. "Please. It's an awful sound."

"Oh? I've been told I'm quite skilled at it." He continued on with the melody.

"I don't particularly care how skilled you are. It's annoying."

"You know, I'm beginning to think you only hate things which make me happy," he said before resuming. Melina growled through gritted teeth, and then saw an opportunity ahead. She guided his steps by hovering close at his side, allowing him to walk slightly ahead of her down the slope. With her recent lessons, he'd become fixated on his feet, watching each step with far too much focus.

In an instant, he was sputtering loudly and waving his arms, attempting to disentangle himself from the thick spiderweb which had attached itself to every surface in its wide reach. Melina burst into laughter at his cries of disgust, as he gracelessly flung himself about. It was as if a white gossamer net had been cast over him, clinging like a desperate maiden.

Melina doubled over and laughed until her abdomen ached. Each time the humor of it began to subside, she looked up to catch his expression as he tugged yet more web out of a new location. His face could have belonged to a girl of less than ten, who'd seen a fat, muddy bullfrog for the first time. Vardan couldn't get a word in until she subsided into occasional chuckles.

"Are you quite finished?" he huffed with an indignant look. Melina only smiled in response.

***

In the late afternoon, a light wind bore the cool scent of humidity, offering a promise of rainfall. Melina taught Vardan how to read the patterns in the wildlife which were more sensitive to changes in the weather: how far the feather fern curled on itself, how frequently the emerald beetle chirped, and what color the dustcaps showed on their stems.

The marshes were within sight, less than a day's journey away, and were backed by enormous silhouettes of mountains in the distance. Vardan was able to orient himself somewhat based on them, and spoke animatedly of a large town by the river of their foothills. Melina was quick to set it as their destination, noticing how his pace increased as he spoke of it.

When rain in the early evening was imminent, Melina sniffed out a cave in their direction of travel to save Vardan the time and trouble of setting up his tent, which couldn't accommodate both of them. Although a little rain was harmless, the winds spoke of an intense downpour.

The cave, low and narrow, had just enough level space in its center to comfortably lie upon. After settling in for an early night, Vardan was quick to withdraw the wrapped stack of papers from his pack, and set up ink, quill, and blotter. Melina watched him write feverishly for a time before inquiring of it.

"I'm transcribing what you've taught me," he replied, "that I might remember it more easily in the future. Would you like to read it when I've finished?"

Melina declined, and he returned to his work. In the half-light from the mouth of the cave, his hair fell forward just enough to cast a light shadow over his face. With his lips pressed together in thought, his posture bent to the papers he wrote upon, his passion for the new knowledge shone through. Melina found herself stealing glances while his attention was diverted, remembering the body beneath the clothing. The deep valleys running along limb and abdomen, smooth shadows and swarthy skin, which teased her by peeking out of his neckline and sleeves. She shook her head and rose to her feet. Being near such a man while her appetite began to rise was not a good combination.

"I'll return shortly," was all she said as she exited the cave. The rain had intensified as promised, smothering both scent and sound, and it soaked her hair in minutes.

She extended her arms while walking slowly and nimbly, imagining how wonderful it might be to own a territory such as this. The rain pattered on a dozen leaves before reaching her, infusing the water with their essence. The cleansing droplets running down her body were a welcome reprieve: she'd missed the feel of adoring hands tracing over her flesh in the way that only a lover could. Melina found herself reliving the cool touch of Vardan's skin against hers, and wondered how it would feel to have his fingers running down her shoulders, ribs, and breasts. She lost herself in the fantasy for a time, and began to sing of it. Her voices didn't carry far in the din of the storm, but the performance was meant only for herself.

She wasn't certain how long she spent enjoying the cool shower, but it was well after sunset when Melina remembered herself, as if waking from a dream. As she made her way back to the cave, a tiny glimmer of golden wings caught her eye. But when she turned towards it, nothing was there.

***

By early morning, the rain had ceased entirely, leaving only a dense fog in its wake. Their path across the thinning trees and marshes was necessarily slow and cautious, leaving plenty of breath for conversation. Vardan leapt on the opportunity.

"Then you've never had any sort of relationship? Nothing lasting beyond a single copulation?"

"Not at all. I'll occasionally lure particular pr-" Melina caught herself, "ah, people back to me for a second feeding. But nothing beyond that."

"No friendships?"

"Gods, no," she said with a laugh. "Why should anyone wish to be friends with the likes of us? After what we do to them." Vardan's eyebrows twitched upward briefly, as if he often wondered that himself. "Have you?"

"Plenty. I spend quite a lot of time in one place before moving on. Sometimes years. Friendships are some of the most enjoyable aspects of my life. I'm certain you'll come to enjoy it."

"And, the relationships with humans? Does that truly work?"

"For a time, yes," he said, his voice saddening. Melina supposed it could work in theory; the victim would continue to experience the same magically elevated pleasure with them, without realizing they'd been deprived of it elsewhere. "Though it can never last forever. The lives of others are fleetingly short, and you and I can only worsen that." He heaved a great sigh, eyes downcast. "I've loved many in my long life. The most wonderful people..." he trailed off as his voice broke.

The closer one looked, the more they could see the truth of his words: a dozen trinkets, mannerisms, and habits were puppeteered by ghosts. Brief flickers of remorse and agony were visible in each memory. He was haunted by love and loss in equal measure, run through by spears made of sunsets and warm laughter. He'd mourned longer than any human had been alive.

Melina initially felt pity at his plight, before thinking there must have been a reason he'd chosen such an existence. It must have been of great value to him, to have chosen the same pain countless times. And Vardan was not an unintelligent man. How would it feel to love another such as he had?

When she looked back at him, she was surprised to meet his lingering gaze, his eyes soft and forlorn.

"Melina, I..." he paused as a ghost flickered across his face. "Thank you. For everything." She halted and smiled sadly. The air between them felt chilly and thick, but not due to the humidity.

She took a step closer to him, gauging his reaction. When she was within arm's length, he inhaled sharply and held his breath. His jaw and neck tensed noticeably. Melina reached towards him and confidently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, her fingernails barely grazing along his cool skin. Vardan remained frozen in place, and she felt as if the soft touch had shattered an invisible barrier between the two of them.

"You're welcome," she purred with a cocky half-smile, then turned and continued walking. It took Vardan several moments to follow.

***

They reached the town by the following morning, having passed more and more frequent clusters of homes and farms along the way. Vardan had bullied her into donning a set of his clothing long before they'd come into contact with any humans, so that she'd been forced to tolerate trousers, an ill-fitting shirt, and a loaded pack for several consecutive hours.

As the muddy paths gave way to hard-packed dirt roads, Vardan's pace increased with clear enthusiasm. Ugly clusters of wood and stone dominated Melina's line of sight, blotting out nearly all signs of nature. An array of new and interesting scents accosted her: wood smoke, perfumes, fruit, spices, and furs. There were streetside merchant stalls and large shops in equal quantities, two cobblestone streets, and a stable full of horses which shied at their approach. Vardan threw a forlorn look at the latter as they passed.

The high humidity conspired with the sun overhead, plotting an uncomfortably warm day. Several buildings already had their thick canvas walls rolled and tied to allow the breeze through, and the younger populace had taken the opportunity to expose as much skin as possible. In comparison to the smaller towns which Melina had seen thus far, the streets were all abuzz with noise and activity. It was all quite overstimulating to Melina's finely tuned senses, but the one mercy was that barely anyone spared them a second glance.

"This way!" said Vardan with a wide smile on his face. Melina jogged a few steps to keep up.

"Why so hurried?" she asked.

"We've important business here! I'll not allow you to rescind your end of the agreement."

"What? What agreement-" Melina broke off, a look of horror washing over her face. "Oh, no."

"Oh yes."

A wooden sign depicting a pair of scissors and a sewing needle hung over an open door, while elaborate outfits stared menacingly from within the large windows. The void of the shop's cavernous room loomed malevolently, beckoning her into its maw. Melina whined wordlessly.

"Come now, it's not as awful as all that," replied Vardan. She sighed.

"I suppose you're right. It's not as if I'm walking into a spiderweb." Vardan rolled his eyes and led her inside with a hand on her shoulder, as if escorting a prisoner.

"Allow me to do the talking," he mumbled into her ear, "and agree with what I say."

The two strode confidently to a set of cushions near a small circular platform backed by a mirror, and sank down with a chorus of contented vocalizations as they gratefully stripped off their packs. Melina was quick to notice the relative luxury of the shop compared to others surrounding it, with its spacious layout and elaborate displays, and she felt as if she were not meant to be there.

When an attendant approached them to offer wine and tea, Vardan regaled him with an elaborate tale of how the two of them had been bathing in a pool when all of Melina's supplies were swept away. The young man listened raptly, settling onto one of the nearby cushions and staring with wide blue eyes.

"Nary a trace of their existence, save for the broken earth overhanging the riverbank! We had to ration a week's worth of food, and salvage a bit of my clothing to fit." Melina nodded for emphasis.

"That was, quite possibly, the worst part of it all," she said. It wasn't a complete lie.

"So you see, we find ourselves in a bit of a predicament. Melina here had a full set of clothes specifically for our upcoming summer travels, and now we must scramble to replace them." She bristled at how casually he'd slipped her true name into conversation, without even considering whether she'd want him to use it. Had he even thought of that? Did he use his true name wherever he went?

"Well, sir: you've made an excellent choice coming to us. The Pointed Shear boasts the largest selection of fabrics in town, with staff to match. And it sounds as if you'll be taking full advantage of both. However, I should warn you, an order of this size will bear a substantial cost..." Vardan cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"That won't be an issue. Whatever the lady requires will be my pleasure to provide. With the baggage to carry it all, if you can arrange it."

"Oh- Of course, sir! I'll return in a moment." He dashed away with his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. Vardan settled himself on his side with a confident posture, sipping his tea as if the past few days had already departed his memories.

"Vardan, how much clothing are we talking here? Will we be here all day?"

"Not to worry, my dear. It will be over before you know it." Melina wasn't sure if his bravado was real, or sheer force of habit due to his change in environment.

Unfortunately, he'd lied. Melina spent the next several hours being prodded, measured, spun, poked, squeezed, and stared at. They'd forced her to don and doff several items of clothing behind a screen, and she had to conceal the fact that she was awful at dressing herself. Half the items they'd handed her were completely foreign to her eyes.

Vardan instructed the attendants not to fuss over an itemized list of clothes, but to take her preferences and specifications into account while compiling a wardrobe with a touch of artistic freedom. And though Melina hadn't made it easy for them, they'd noted everything she said. When they'd finally finished, Vardan began negotiations over coin while a young girl offered Melina a neatly folded set of garments. It looked suspiciously like the first outfit she'd been forced to wear.

"It should fit your hips and chest now, my lady," she said in a small voice, "Kendra had me alter it whilst you were being measured." Melina took the sheer green fabric from her thin hands and donned it behind the screen.

The fabric was feather-light, and smooth as rose petals. The lined blouse covered little more than her breasts and sides, with wide straps that crossed over her neck and back, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. The loose, flowing skirt ended in a "V" just above her hips, leaving her midriff exposed above the soft embroidered band at its top. It draped delicately over her form as if molded to her needs, leaving her movement completely unobstructed.

When she emerged to admire herself in the mirror, she did so in a state of mild shock. She had never entertained the possibility that Vardan could be right. The silks shimmered brightly, matching the shade of a new sapling sprouting forth from the earthy brown of her nurturing skin. A shadowy outline of her body was visible with the sunlight behind her, but what Melina loved most was how it left one hungry for the knowledge of what lay beneath the fabric. She recalled many a time when a man's clothing had teased her in the same way.

"I love it," she said, becoming aware of the pocket of silence where Vardan's conversation had just been. She turned to see him looking her over with a slackened jaw, his eyes darting quickly as if uncertain of where to focus. Melina felt a rush of power and dominance race through her, leaving her fingertips tingling with adrenaline. He'd been averting his gaze at every opportunity while they were in the wilderness, but now he couldn't seem to get enough of her.

He wrapped up the arrangements with an air of authority, and requested that his belongings be delivered to the "Owl and Nightingale" inn. The remainder of her wardrobe was due to be completed in three day's time, leaving Vardan ample opportunity to impart his own knowledge of the machinations of human civilization.

They returned to the cobblestone street as a cluster of gray-robed clergy shuffled by, sweating in the afternoon sun, while the shoutings of a crier echoed off the stone edifices. And from the street opposite them, through a slight haze of humidity, came an elated cry: "Vardan!"

A middle-aged man, short and thin with narrow eyes, dashed towards them with a smile that could light the darkest night with its brilliance.

"Zui, is that you?" Vardan exclaimed incredulously, before catching the man in his embrace as he leapt with arms outstretched. "Zui, my dear! As I live and breath." He lowered the shorter man to the ground and kissed him on each cheek, matching his smile with a dazzling one of his own. Their hands remained on one another, naturally falling into an old and familiar pattern.

"By the gods," said Zui, "you look-" but Vardan cautioned him with a gesture, glancing at the passersby in the street. "You look wonderful," he said softly.

"As do you, love. It has been far too long."

Zui glanced around Vardan's arm, catching sight of Melina standing in his shadow.

"Ah, how inconsiderate of me," said Vardan. "Melina, this is Zui Xim of Lushan. Zui, this is my companion Melina." Zui looked her over with an expression of distaste, then turned back to Vardan without speaking a word to her.

"Might I see you again? Just once. For old time's sake." Vardan shook his head.

"I'm terribly sorry, but you know that can't happen."

"Demon's word, it can't! We could-"

"I've already taken much from you," said Vardan, cutting off his plea. "I could never take more."

Zui looked positively heartsick, but nodded reluctantly. He ended the conversation hurriedly, and Vardan watched him go with a crestfallen expression.

"How extraordinary," said Melina once he was out of earshot. "He seemed genuinely happy to see you."

"Well, I was only with him for a month or two. Why should he not be?"

"The length of a relationship would not affect what you stole from him afterwards, would it? He can never again feel sexual pleasure, after all." Vardan rounded on her, brows low and angry over wide eyes.

"What?" he hissed. That hadn't been the reaction she expected, doubly so when he grasped her upper arm and began leading her between two buildings with a grip which was slightly too tight. He didn't turn to her until they'd reached a small alcove which was out of the way of foot traffic, whereupon he spun her around and backed her against the stone wall.

"What exactly happens when you feed on someone?" he said with a sharp and formal tone, practically spitting each syllable.

"I... do you not know? I'd assumed that-"

"Let us assume that I do not know at all. Describe it for me in full." His gaze burned more intensely than the sun overhead.

"I rob them of their libido. Not only for the one night I'm with them, but for all nights to come. Never again will they feel the same desire or satisfaction as when they were with me." Vardan drew back with a stony expression, his neck stiff.