The Forest Bakery Ch. 01

Nico furrowed his brow and scratched his hair. He rotated the map slowly.

"Ah. Aha." He nodded resolutely and put the map back away, then cocked his hands on his hips as he surveyed the path before him. He wasn't lost. He just had no idea where he was, and there was a difference.

Nico hopped up onto a fallen log, briefly checking to be sure there were no green streaks running up the side. The last thing he needed was a hidden hollow sprite or five catching him in one of their snares.

The Aegis of Eternity, a sword fabled to protect its wielder from all forms of harm, was rumored to be somewhere close by in the Evergreen Forest. The Toxin Ranger had charged him dearly for this map, but it would surely be worth it if he could actually find an honest-to-gods named artifact. Assuming he didn't get lost and caught in an arachne girl's web or the like.

He bit his lip, tapping his foot, and surveyed his surroundings. Oak trees dominated this part of the Evergreen, thick with climbing brambles and hanging clumps of mistletoe that clung to the branches like flooded fire ants to their queen.

He was so distracted by being proud of himself for having read a book about ants once, Nico nearly jumped right out of his trousers when he heard a soft giggle from the thicket behind him.

He whirled around, raising what would have been his sword had he not recently lost it and was instead a most unimpressive hatchet. "Someone there?"

At first, he didn't see anything. Well, nothing aside from leaves. Plenty of those! Yes, ma'am, forests had plenty of those. But he didn't see any...

Well, hello.

A pair of very dark hazel eyes watched him from the foliage. They belonged to a woman with skin of gentle green, her head covered in oak leaves. He could only see down to her shoulders, and the beginnings of her cleavage, but it was enough for him to know she was beautiful. She clearly had an amazing figure, but her eyes were somehow most notable of all, shining very brightly, twinkling like stars in the dark hazel night sky. Her lips, plump and luscious, curved upward in a cute, endearing grin. Her ears, pointy and elfin, poked just clear of the mane of oak leaves. Completing the image was a tufted, green lion's tail, topped with a pretty red bow, flicking behind her head.

Nico cleared his throat, and raised the hatchet more casually, as if he'd been about to raise it to give a friendly wave. "Hello, Madam Faerie," he said, avoiding direct eye contact. "Passing through. Not looking for trouble."

Nico Redhand—so named for his red mittens—the Curious was no fool. Very foolish, yes, but not a fool. Whatever kind of fey this was, the best tactic was to be as polite as possible without coming across as flirtatious, or worse, nervous. You never knew which fey would try to jump you and which would let you go on your way with a basket of biscuits for the trouble.

But the green woman just smiled and waved with her fingers, then stepped back and disappeared into the foliage without so much as a rustle.

He put his hands on his hips. "Well! Okay, then."

Part of him was tempted to follow, of course. He couldn't help but wonder who the creature was, and even what she was. Was she fey? Plant? Perhaps even a demon? Most dryads didn't have hair made out of leaves, so had she been a hamadryad?

The thing was, even if he didn't know what she was, he knew pretty well what she wanted; her cheeky manner told him everything. And since nothing could actually attack him on the path, leaving seemed like a not-smart idea.

Nico would be a tempting target. He was of slight build, with a slender upper body and wide hips, toned legs made for jumping and sprinting. His bright green eyes were almost druidic—and fey could be pretty stupid around druids—and his 'floof' of bright scarlet hair, as a friend had called it, made him stick out like a sore thumb.

So he cleared his throat, turned back to the path—because lost or no, at least he was still on the path—and continued on his way.

~ ~ ~ ~

"What are you looking for?"

Nico gave a start, nearly hitting his head on the top of the tree hollow. It was some hours after the earlier encounter.

He pulled out of the hollow and took a quick step back, ensuring he was on the path, then turned to face her. The oak-leaf lady was back, sitting on a low bough and staring down at him. Her gaze was curious and friendly. Maybe a little bit too friendly

"I'm looking for the Aegis of Eternity," he said, clearing his throat. "You haven't seen it, have you?"

"Ooh!" Her eyes lit up. "Maybe I have! Is it a shield with—" She steepled her fingers.

"No. Sorry." He smiled all the same, not wanting to upset her. "It's a sword. You must be thinking of some other Aegis."

She pouted. "Well, it's called an aegis."

"What does that have to do with it?"

She blinked, then giggled, kicking her bare feet. She was dressed in nothing but a pale maroon sweater—stretched tight across her plentiful bosom—a frilly dark green skirt, and fishnet pantyhose. The latter only reached down to her ankles, though, and her toes wiggled playfully as she settled. "'Aegis' means 'shield,' love!" She batted her eyelashes. She had big, expressive eyes, the color of river stones when seen from above the surface of the water, when they turned effervescent shades of blue and green from the algae. Her pupils were quite small, and her lashes thick, her eyes lined a deep shade of blue.

Her tail flicked behind her, reminding him of his old cat whenever she'd found a mousehole to lurk beside.

"Oh, that's... neat." Nico kept up his polite smile as he dipped his head back into the hollow—partially to continue his search, and partially just to have an excuse to avoid eye contact, in case she was trying to hypnotize him. "But I promise, it's a sword."

"What's it do?"

"It protects the bearer from all harm. Supposedly, I mean." He sighed. "If I can find it, anyways."

"So you're just gonna stick your head into every hole in the ground trying to find it?"

"I have a map!" he protested, pulling back out and glaring. She was right above him, and he had a pretty good view of how little she was wearing under that skirt. He tried to look past the tempting sight to her eyes, which were more tempting still. Shimmering like river stones.

"And the map told you to come here?" she asked, her lips quirked upwards in a playful smile.

"Well... no." He bit his lip, wishing he could shy away from her gaze. But it held him, so sparkly and ripply... "I mean, it told me to come around here. I don't have an exact, um. Location."

"So you're just looking around? Trying to get lucky?" She giggled. "That's so cute!"

She rested her chin on her palm, smiling down at him. She had a lovely smile. Beneath her, it felt like he could do nothing but admire her. Admire her supple, curvy body, her tight-fitting sweater, her pretty, glittering blue-green eyes...

Her eyes sparkled, and he felt his cheeks flushing as her words reached him. "W-Well.. well, I..."

"You," she purred, kicking her feet playfully, "are soooo cute when you try to look away from me."

He blinked. "Huh?" Oh. Oh, she was hypnotizing him, wasn't she? Or was she just flirting? Was there even a difference with fey?

"A cutie like you," she cooed, "just can't help but notice how pretty my eyes are." She batted thick, dark lashes. Her tail twitched and flicked behind her, pulling her fluttering skirt about slightly. "Because aren't they. Just. The prettiest eyes?"

"Um." He blinked rapidly. No, no, no. He wasn't falling for that. He tried to tear his gaze away, but he felt his cheeks positively burning like coals. He didn't get attention from pretty girls often. He was so awkward around people, so reclusive. And no girl had ever called him cute before... "I should go."

"Awww." She sighed. "But you walked right underneath me!" She batted her eyelashes again, so playful, the perfect coquette. The perfect fey temptress for someone like him. "You know what they say about us mistlemaids..."

Mistlemaid? What was that? He kept blinking, struggling to snap himself out of it, even though her eyes held him like endless pools, drowning him in that slippery, sweet concoction of flirting, of praise, of...

He realized he'd made a questioning sound—barely even a whimper, judging by her giggles—when she suddenly leaned in, immersing him in those eyes, and the adventurer realized she was now hanging down from the branch, right above him...

"It's bad luck," she gushed, as if this was the most obvious and delightful truth in the world, "to refuse a kiss from one of us!"

He stared. Her eyes seemed to flash, pulsing with lovely turquoise light. Dazzling him. He felt so spinny and dizzy and... and...

"Just one kiss," she whispered, her voice almost quivering with longing, and he felt his lips start to part...

He took a step back, clearing his throat, and focused his gaze on the path ahead with a nervous laugh. "Well, I'd love that, really, but I really have to get going. Thank you so much for the offer, though!" He extended a hand to shake, still avoiding her eyes.

He could tell she was eyeing the hand with distaste. "But... I thought you were..."

Nico had a pretty strong will, though he didn't like to be too overt with it. It gave fey all sorts of ideas. He just maintained his bland smile as he withdrew the hand. "It was a pleasure. Have a wonderful day!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her plump lower lip stick out in an enticing pout. "Hmph. Fine, be that way." She rose back up into the tree, arms folded crossly. "You'll see soon enough."

Nico's smile turned a bit nervous as he turned away. Well, that was ominous.

It was probably nothing. He hurried off down the path, leaving the hollow and mistlemaid behind him.

Nico wasn't the superstitious type, but if threatening 'bad luck' was the worst she would do, he'd take it happily.

He stumbled, nearly tripping over a root, but narrowly caught himself. Eyes on the path, he reminded himself firmly. Got a ways to go yet before nightfall.

~ ~ ~ ~

Nico didn't believe in bad luck.

But he didn't believe in coincidence, either.

He glared down at his right shoe as he sat next to a sputtering campfire. It now had a hole in it the size of his thumb, leaving his sole exposed for any wicked thorns or, he supposed, foot fetishist demons.

He could have sworn he'd had these shoes cobbled just a half-month ago. But sometimes bad weather and wear and tear tore them down quickly.

And there was certainly bad weather today. Stormclouds had appeared seemingly from nowhere, and the forest was sodden. It supposedly almost never rained over the Evergreen—all the water usually came from springs, making it an exceptionally verdant desert. Now he was huddled beneath a maple, his fire was burning low (he'd only been able to find green wood to burn), and he had a hole in his shoe.

And a tiny little thorn sticking out of his sole.

The boobiesbramble he'd had to clear away had snagged in his mittens, too, forcing him to get pricked even more picking the little thorns out. Each thorn wasn't even the size of a shoenail, but they stung like anything.

He pulled the little bit of bramble out, and couldn't help but prick his thumb as he did so.

Boobiesbramble burs had the worst qualities of blackberry, hawthorne and goatheats. Finding a patch growing right in the middle of his campsite, after he'd already placed the tent atop it, had been bad luck. Extremely bad luck.

Now his tent was tattered and would have to be put up again in a different spot, his foot was cold, his clothes were wet, and to top it all off, he couldn't stop thinking about the mistlemaid, about her big, bouncy breasts—surely they'd jiggled so pleasingly when she'd giggled, surely they'd been hanging right in front of him when she'd moved to kiss him, surely that tight sweater had a little window, just the slightest slit, surely she'd been wearing nothing but a corset, a bikini...

Nico rolled his eyes. Boobiesbramble was mostly just a nuisance, but one prick from it could give even the most chaste monk a breast fetish to last the night. And to be honest, he had never been immune to the particular charms of a pair of nice, large breasts to begin with.

And Nico had gotten pricked at least thirteen times.

He was in a bad mood, and it was with a cross growl that he took off both boots, carefully picked his way around the boobiesbramble and poison ivy that were growing all over and around the campsite, and made his way to the tent to start putting it back up.

He'd fix the tent, then make his way through the mud to the little creek that ran nearby. At least he could get some of this mud off of him. It would be cold, but Nico liked the cold, anyways. He'd get clean, then just get some sleep.

It's all just coincidence, he told himself, scowling. He reached down to hoist back up the central tentpole. Bad luck isn't real. Don't let her bounce inside your head.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Nico's head spun as he accidentally pricked his thumb again.

He sighed. He definitely needed a cold bath.

~ ~ ~ ~

Nico swallowed a lump in his throat, staring at his campsite in dismay.

This was a lot of coincidence for one man to bear.

The bath had been nice, if freezing cold, but upon getting out, he'd realized a group of fairies were pilfering his clothes. He'd shouted and sworn after them—he'd probably have cause to regret that later, as even harmless fairies could be wicked when crossed—to no avail. He'd had to make the walk back to the campsite naked save for his coat, undergarments, and those damn holey shoes.

And now he stared, almost questioningly, at the raccoon that had just torn his tent down and was currently chewing the canvas apart.

He stared at the raccoon. The raccoon stared back at him, like a faun caught in the wisplight.

Why, Nico found himself silently asking the creature. Why?

The raccoon stared unblinking. Because I could, it seemed to be saying back. And also your tent smells like chicken because you forgot to wash it after last week, when you ate that roast chicken in there and spilled grease everywhere.

Okay, so the raccoon was at least ten percent Nico's fault.

He yelled anyways, and the raccoon scurried away, leaving Nico alone at his campsite. He gave a suffering sigh, picked the tent's tattered remains away, and retrieved his sleeping bag. At least it wasn't raining too badly under the maple tree.

He settled into the sleeping bag, cocooning himself from this hateful, luckless world. Bad luck is not real, he told himself firmly. It's just coincidences. One bad day does not a curse make!

As he drifted off to sleep, he dreamed of the mistlemaid's bouncing, jiggling breasts coming closer and closer, luring him down an endless, winding road of mist. No matter how he resisted, he could not find a place to look that was not big and bouncy. No matter where he stepped, he could not keep from walking after her. And no matter how fast he ran, how sweetly he begged, the breasts—which only seemed to get closer and closer—could never, ever be reached.

And in his dreams, to his shame, it did not take him long to start begging very sweetly indeed.

~ ~ ~ ~

Sure enough, though, the next day was better. The rain let up. The fairies left his leather leggings hanging from some bushes—though he still couldn't find his pants, so they chafed horribly. Better than walking around in his underwear, though, surely.

Nico was in better spirits, though the hole in his shoe—and the lingering effects of that damned boobiesbramble—kept him from really feeling comfortable. He just wanted to be done with this mission. If he didn't find any clues about the Aegis soon—a sphinx's riddle, a dungeon entrance, anything—he was just going to head home before things got any worse.

But Nico was stubborn, and he was determined to get a new sword, no matter what it took.

And so determined was his stride, as he crossed the wooden bridge over a shallow creek, that he did not notice how ominously the dry wood was creaking until the plank he stepped on snapped like a twig beneath his holey-shoed foot.

And with a sharp Oop! Nico fell halfway through the bridge.

He narrowly managed to catch himself, his hands getting a couple splinters as he grabbed on desperately to the old rails on either side. His legs plunged through, though, taking him up to his waist in broken, shoddy bridge.

For a moment, Nico hung there, suspended over a watery inconvenience he downright refused to suffer. He growled with effort as he tried to pull himself back up. He was very, very stuck, so much so that Nico rather doubted he would be able to get out either way.

Experimentally, he released the rails. He sank a little, enough to quickly reclaim his hold, but not much. He was well and truly stuck.

No. He had been stripped of his clothes, subjected to an annoying fixation, vandalized by a raccoon, and forced to sleep in the rain. Nico gritted his teeth. He was not about to get wet.

... well, more wet.

Nico squirmed experimentally. The bridge's creak echoed through the forest, and he went still. Worse, the bridge could break completely, and he could get horribly injured on some fractured shard of wood. Nico had worked enough demolitions to know what a piece of broken timber could do to someone if it went in at just slightly the wrong angle.

He bit his lip. So... what, then?

The adventurer hung there, a hand on each rail, and sighed.

"Oh, my!"

Nico's heart leaped, He turned as best he could at the high-pitched squeal, seeing several blinking, glimmering fairies flying towards him. The speaker, a blonde whose curls glowed like the sun, he recognized from the earlier thefts.

"Hey!" he called, swallowing some pride and waving. The bridge creaked, and he quickly reclaimed his grip. "I could use some, um, help, if you don't mind. I appear to be stuck."

The three giggled. Not a good sign.

"You could say that again!" cooed one of them, a redhead with peachy skin and a rather pronounced bosom. She giggled, zooming in close and settling atop his nose with a ballerina's dainty balance—and a few flutters of her beautifully patterned pink butterfly wings. "Someone's been clumsy!"

"The bridge broke," he muttered, trying to look anywhere but her rack.

"Awww." The blonde zoomed in close as well, and he couldn't help but follow the motion of her bouncing tits as she drew up short and hovered next to her companion, right in front of him. "Sounds like someone's having a rough day!"

"Y-Yeah." His eyes tracked for a moment before returning to hers. He was having a lot of trouble keeping up with her golden glow from her fast-fluttering wings.

"Bad luck?" The blonde beamed, zooming in close. "Aw, did you turn down a smooch from the mistlemaid?"

Nico's heartrate quickened as, once again, the tiny bimbo's chest drew his gaze. "L-Listen," he managed, "I, um, was just wondering if I could get some help."

"Help?" The blonde blinked big eyes. A finger went to her luscious pink lips. "You need help?"

Nico bit his lip. "Yeah," he admitted.

She sucked her finger idly as she bobbed up and down in the air, her tight crop top barely keeping her tits in order.

Then the fairies exchanged grins.

Nico's heart sank like a stone. "You know what?" He smiled nervously. "Nevermind. I'm fine."

"Ooh, but you need help!" the peach fairy exclaimed, bobbing alongside the blonde. Bounce-bounce-bounce.

He shook his head frantically. "No. I'll get out on me own! It's fine!"