Monster Girl Sanctuary

Here's the first reader requested art: Darkmaw! Sprinkle and Carrotina also have art currently in the works! Thanks for your support!
Right. So, according to Zelda, and more or less the gist I got from Sexy System Voice (that’s her name, now, I had decided), in order to use my Qualities I had to simply treat them as Trained Skills. I had to try to draw upon my intent and the power of my Umbercore in order to get some kind of desired effect. Great. Sure.

How the fuck does that work exactly? I wondered. I groaned as the three horned bat demons got even closer to us, and I knew time was running out. I had to try something—anything, really. I decided to go with my Lancer Quality.

I extended an arm out to my side and summoned the lance. Thankfully, it appeared in my hands as usual—its heft felt oddly reassuring. I reached out to my Umbercore, focusing on the wellspring of power that I knew was always inside me, and I attempted to imbue the lance with a smite-like, energy that would make its impact even more devastating to my opponent.

I grinned with relief as I noticed a surging bolt exit my hand and light up the blade of the lance. With a guttural cry, I hurled the lance and it flew through the air, piercing the skull of the nearest demon, causing the creature to explode upon impact.

“Nice,” I grunted, but there were still two more, and they were closing in fast. My lance reappeared in my hands, but by the time that had occurred, the other two demons were already on top of me, one slashing at Blue’s body, and the other attempting to throw Etherea from his back.

My heart filled with rage at the unmitigated evil of trying to harm my moon elf companion. Without even thinking, I turned my head at the creature and opened my mouth, spewing a cyclone of flames that incinerated the creature to ash. Only the talon it used to grip Etherea’s shoulder was still intact.

Okay, so fire breath is instinctual now, I guess.

Blue took care of the last one with a punishing chomp, but not before suffering an injury to his wing that left a rip in the patagium. We were losing altitude fast, and things were looking pretty bad.

“Hang on tight,” I grunted to the shuddering moon elf behind me. “Blue, buddy, if I jump off, can you manage to land Etherea safely?”

“Bucky, no, you can’t—”

Blue let out an affirmative cry, and I knew he understood. “Alright, buddy,” I said. “I’m leaving you in charge. See you on the ground!”

I jumped. I extended my arms and legs to try to catch the wind and slow my plummeting descent, and to some degree it worked, but impact would still be a bitch.

I thought of my Umbercore, calling upon it half-consciously, not really knowing what it could do, or what I was capable of. Dragoner allowed me to breathe fire—would it allow me to fly?

With that thought, I felt something explode from my back—it hurt like a bitch, like two saplings just suddenly grew out of my shoulder blades. My eyes went wide, but my jaw clenched, and before I could process anything else I felt my fall interrupted and slowed.

I had wings! I looked behind me and saw two silver-scaled dragon wings with ombre flesh in the wings' membranes that faded from black to ash gray. They glided, flapping occasionally, seemingly independent of my will, and yet I felt entirely in control.

This is pretty badass. Okay, focus, Bucky.

I looked around for Etherea and Blue, seeing them land with grace on the plains below. I swooped down to land beside them, feeling the wind cut upon my wings, but as I neared the ground I felt them recede into my back. I'd used up my power for now.

“No, no, no,” I groaned, bracing for impact, my arms crossed in front of my fucked up chest. “Here we go!”

With my wings gone, I hit the ground with a thud. It felt like I had fallen from maybe ten feet or so. It hurt, but I would be fine—I would have been way more fine if not for my previous injuries.

Etherea rushed up to my side and instantly pressed her hand on my chest. I watched as pink and green waves of wispy blue energy surged from her fingertips into my torso, and I could tell that the worst of the new injuries were already dealt with.

“Thanks,” I groaned, winking at her as my jaw clenched from the discomfort.

“Did you fly?” she asked, clearly awestruck. “Did you have wings? Or was I seeing things?”

I shrugged. “Maybe,” I said. “Let’s stay focused on the mission for now. I have a feeling there’ll be a few more surprises in store after that.”

Etherea, however, was not quite ready to let it go, apparently. “Hold on, when did you get the ability to manifest dragon wings, hero?”

I shrugged. “I have the Dragoner quality—Qualities are apparently my new way of interacting with my Umbercore.”

She squinted at me, her mouth hanging slightly ajar. Then, she shook off her confusion and redirected her attention to Blue, who I was walking over to see.

Blue didn’t look all that beat up, but his wing was ripped. That was bad.

“Can you fix the wing?” I asked. “With your healing powers, I mean.”

She nodded. “I think so—but he will likely need time to recover. I suggest we heal him and he heads straight back on his own after resting.”

I frowned at that. “Will he be able to give us a ride back?”

Etherea shrugged her shoulders with a solemn expression on her beautiful elven face. “We will need to find our own way.”

“That could take days,” I groaned. “They’ll freak out.”

Etherea sighed. “Well, perhaps it won’t be so bad. Maybe Blue will be ready to take us back, or maybe we’ll find another way. These woods are magical.”

“Seems most woods are,” I noted with a snort.

But Etherea nodded unironically. “True,” she conceded. “Most woods do possess a great many magical creatures.”

Etherea extended her hands and touched Blue’s damaged wing. This time, pink energy emanated from her fingertips in little tendrils of light. Sure enough, the wing mended, but a scar remained.

The sight of the scar on Blue’s wing made me look down at my own ragged arms. Scars. Disfiguring, ugly scars that weakened us, compromised us—and made us harder to love. But I still loved Blue, and he still loved me. My scars didn’t dissuade him or my girls from caring for me. Even broken, they still saw me as Bucky.

My daughters literally never knew me without these scars. They never mentioned them or seemed to care in the least. My right hands traced my fingers against my cheek, finding another scar there.

Broken, maybe. But not without use. I furrowed my brow as I reached out to gently stroke Blue’s back.

“What are you thinking, hero?” Etherea asked cautiously. “Your face is rather difficult to read at the moment.”

I let out a prolonged sigh and closed my eyes, my palm resting on Blue’s neck ridges. “I’m thinking about scars,” I confessed.

Etherea frowned, her eyes cheating down to see my hideous arms, and she winced. But then she leaned forward and cupped my cheeks in her hands, pulling my head down to look her in the eyes.

“The scars on your body don’t matter,” she said. “It’s the ones in your heart that hurt the most. Balm and bandage those, hero. While you can. Before you’re too damaged for them to ever go away.”

I stared at her pleading cerulean eyes and bit my lip. Etherea wasn’t just talking about me—she was letting me know how she saw herself.

“Etherea, I’m going to help you—” but she placed her palm on my mouth and shook her head sternly, her eyes going dewy.

“Stop,” she said. That was all she could manage at first, and though she didn’t cry, I could hear the pain welling in her throat. “Stop. You can’t save everyone, hero.”

The words cut me deeper than any in recent memory. It took me back to my first night in Tater Town, when I’d let Silver Moon, the satyr daughter of Vale, sister to Heather, die at the hands of Darkmaw’s confused wolves. She was right. I couldn’t save everyone.

After a minute of silence, Etherea lowered her hand from my lips and averted her eyes from my face. “We should keep moving,” she said. “We got here in good time.”

I nodded. “Blue, go find somewhere to rest. We may need you later.” Turning to Etherea, I said, “You’re sure you know the way to the lake?”

She nodded, still not returning my gaze. “The Lake of Silver Twilight was once a revered spot for moon elves. I know it well.”

I nodded. “Lead the way,” I said.

“The way has changed—I know the path, I know the destination, but there will be new challenges imposed upon you by the Archfey currently lording over the Darkwood. We must tread lightly.”

We took off, leaving Blue to seek shelter while we headed for the forest. It bugged me, leaving Blue in such a state, but he seemed alright, and he was certainly capable of fending for himself.

“Where should we enter the woods from?” I asked, noting four paths leading into the forest where the trees were not as densely packed.

“It doesn’t matter in the least,” she said. “No matter where you choose, you’ll end up in the same place.”

I looked at her in confusion. “It’s like an enchanted maze?”

“More or less,” she said. “Sometimes the fey will test your will with puzzles and patterns, other times they will hurl monsters at you. Occasionally they’ll visit you themselves. But no matter how they decide to deal with you, hero, you will walk down the Bramblepath.”

“The Bramblepath?” I repeated. “Tell me about it.” We were just on the edge of the forest, seconds away from entering if we wanted to.

“A tunnel of thorns in an impenetrable thicket that you must navigate to find the Lake we seek.”

“It sounds like a bunch of fun,” I remarked.

Etherea smirked. “Perhaps it will be. In any case, I believe in you, hero—but your bandaged injuries do concern me. Before we enter, would you permit me to change them one more time?”

I shrugged my shoulders and gave a half-hearted nod. “If you want, I guess,” I said.

She helped me strip my armor and shirt off and I lay on the ground, waiting for her tender touch. Etherea’s nimble, skilled fingers unfastened the wrappings from my chest and peeled them away, bit by bit.

When my chest was exposed, though, I noticed her eyes had gone wide and her jaw hung with a worrisome look.

“What is it?” I asked, not yet daring to look down for myself.

Etherea swallowed hard with an audible gulp. “A complication, hero,” she said softly. “A very interesting complication.”