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27 — Non-intimate Arrangements
🕑 Added 2025-07-08 19:10:47 +0000 UTCThe fire burned low, but the flames and smoke tore into the sky. The smell of acrid and scorched fabric stung her nose. She winced at the smell but made no gesture to display her irritation. Rennia stared at Ishmere sitting in front of the mound they had dug, playing with a stick as the pyre of clothes imitated a bonfire.
It was Ishmere's idea to put the dead to "rest" by burning the last of their possessions in the uncontrolled fire. Old rubber shoes, barmaid aprons, and bags that weren't her master's. It was a solemn affair and a weird one at that. If she had alcohol left, she would drink. A pity—a real one.
She turned to her "master" who was kneeling in front of the pyre of clothes. Her expression was hard to discern, but Rennia knew she was affected. She saw a glint in her eye, and it was one of surprise, maybe regret, definitely some kind of anguish.
"I can't remember most of their names, just Lucille, my barmaid and friend, not that I knew her that long. Most of these people were customers, some were rampant drunks. I wonder what their families would do without them. I wonder if... no."
Rennia said nothing. This was a sacred moment, and she was out of place. What could she even add that might give her some solace? Commentary, insensitive questions, asking what these people were like?
The whole incident happened because of an unresolved issue she had with some mage woman. It's not that she didn't care about it. It's just that she was afraid of becoming too involved, especially since they were stuck together by consent. Maybe Rennia should be kneeling as well—she'd hate to attract the same fate. But apparently she was supposed to be super powerful, so then why didn't she stop it? Why flee? Who makes an immortal run into a cave?
"This all happened because of me. If I was a little more prepared then—" Ishmere spoke to herself, Rennia listened.
The immortal didn't have the courage to answer herself, and Rennia felt the need to say something, anything. It might not bring her closure, but maybe it could keep her grounded in reality. She didn't have much life experience and much less the breadth of an immortal's lifespan, but she had her moments where her head hung low, some more than others.
"You did what you could. You at least honored them." Was that the right thing to say? Probably not.
"But what if I didn't need to? What if I had settled my grudges prior? They'd still be alive. And maybe this place could have still been standing. I got lazy, started drinking too much, didn't care what happened. I got weak, lost my edge."
The tension stirred for a while. There was no catharsis for Ishmere, and only Rennia felt some kind of higher power was here with them, though it might just be the fire, older than any god. It couldn't burn away the pain, but it could burn away the sight of the past. Besides, she was getting creeped out by the skeletons.
Ishmere turned to her, standing up from the ground. Rennia took in her beauty under the sunlight—hair pale as the moon and eyes as blue as the oceans, fair in her appearance but black in her heart, probably.
"Rennia, we need to have a final talk, right away." She hesitated. "I need to know and tell you something. This can't wait."
Okay. It was about time. She was getting sick of dragging around the uncomfortable feelings she had about the whole business between them.
Ishmere walked back to the tavern, and Rennia followed.
They sat inside the rotting and rusted tavern. Ishmere took two wobbly chairs and sat them opposing each other. She offered for her to sit first, unusually kind, and made Rennia feel as though she was being courted, which she guessed she was.
"Please sit down. We need to work out details, serious details."
Rennia sat down, suspicious as to where this conversation was going. She would lie if she said she wasn't disappointed. Ishmere had oscillated between being a sex pest and helpless mourner, and yes, her opinion of her was inconsistent. But she needed some concrete direction in her life—that was adventuring for her, not caring for old ladies who looked like sprites.
"My name is Ishmere Hurshaya, and what you're seeing in front of you is someone with too many lifetimes on her hands. To be clear, this is my third life. I've seen nations fall and nations burn by things worse than magic. I chose this path of immortality because I hate having to leave the world behind for newer ones, and yet immortality is a curse of its own. I'm not permitted to see the afterlife. I'm practically a god forced to walk this earth. I'm cursed and blessed."
Rennia would be surprised, if she had never fallen into that basement. It wasn't her first encounter with something divine. But immortals weren't the thing she was worried about—the fact that she called herself godly but claimed to be a reincarnated mortal unnerved her.
"I... I really don't know what to make of all that. If I have to be honest, I'm still in a state of shock that I'm not really the woman who I was. So I don't really care what you are, Ishmere. I'm trying to figure out this thing as I go." She nudged lower, towards her groin problem.
"Good, then, this should be much easier," Ishmere did half a pout. "I'm telling you this because if you are going to be staying with me for a while, there are things about me you need to know—important stuff. Things that will affect your life, things that will affect you. Love it or hate it."
Rennia groaned and leaned forward on the table, looking at Ishmere's pale face. Ishmere smiled at her like she was a bundle of sweet cakes.
"Let's be honest, Rennia. I took advantage of you when I saw you." The words stirred inside Rennia. She knew it was true in a sense, but she didn't reject Ishmere. Her body compelled her; she wanted what she was given and what she gave.
Rennia shrugged. "It's not an issue. I've been in places, had sex where I shouldn't have, been with people I shouldn't have, but it's not the issue here. This remains the issue." She stood, partially blushing, and lifted her skirt. Ishmere peeked at the bulge. "Is there no way to get rid of it at all?"
Ishmere shook her head. "I'm afraid not. It's a part of you the same way your arms are. Removing it by magic is unheard of but not impossible—you will likely experience excruciating pain. And I'm not even going to mention removal by force. You're stuck with it, whether you like it or not. And part of it, the burden entrusted upon your bloodline, is both your biological and divine goal, entrusted upon you by the goddess of sex, love, and fertility."
"Come again?"
Goddess of sex, love and fertility? Eros? Entrusted something to her, or the bloodline at least.
"If you give me time to explain."
Rennia didn't interrupt this time. She listened with intent, annoyed but partially intrigued. "A few thousand years ago, in this world, an upstart war god called Marrz killed most of the male population in his war for conquest and dominance. Even the divine male gods were slaughtered. He had decreed that no man should walk the earth but him." She paused and stared at Rennia. "Are you following?"
Rennia nodded but had follow-up questions of her own. She kept them for now. As for the god, she'd never heard of such a being. "War god Marrz—I've never heard about him. And this was allowed?"
"The Living System permitted his existence. It took what was left of the holy pantheon to stop him. But he left the planet scarred. There were too many women and not enough men. The gods didn't have the power to shape new men into existence, so the goddess Arosia—or Eros as you might know her—devised a plan. A few hundred women across the world were blessed to make new women, at least until more men were made."
Rennia's mouth hung open. "By giving them cocks? Women specifically?"
Ishmere nodded but held up her hand. "By giving them the means of impregnating other women. Typically, the chances of a futanari such as yourself being born from a hereditary futanari mother is one in three. However, you're from a problematic bloodline, and the chances were higher."
"And my mother knew this?"
"Yes, but much like me, we're creatures of lust, and much like you are now. Which is why many women of this nature sought out male partners eventually. Many people see it as an abominable curse and not the godly blessing it is. Of course, there are other reasons for the existence of futanari—you could get such an ailment or blessing as a reward for delving, eating the wrong fruit. The word itself is not native to this domain, but the gods adopted it all the same."
That sounded absurd, ludicrous and too wild to be true.
"Look, this is too much at once. Are you saying that me having a third leg between my legs was always going to happen?"
Ishmere tapped her fingers on the table. "You're not a mistake, Rennia. You're a part of life, and most of the time we don't get to choose what happens to us, where we are born, who our parents are, why—"
"I get it. Skip the philosophical lesson. I'm not trying to be rude, I'm just exhausted from clinging to that part of my life." Ishmere quieted down as Rennia spoke, and the atmosphere turned colder. The white-haired woman stared at the dusty table. Rennia spoke again. "So I don't get to choose? I'm part of something a goddess decided? I don't have a choice in the matter?"
Ishmere looked away. "I'm afraid not, but it's something you can enjoy—tasting life in a way both man and woman together can't. Your transformation is something people yearn for."
No sane person would wish for a sex change in a place where she came from, and especially not something in between either. Rennia slumped onto the dusty table, moping. "So what am I supposed to do with this information? It's interesting and all, but I'm hopeless. Where does this take me?"
"Here's the good part. You stay with me for a while and I'll teach you how to manage your hormones." Rennia doubted that, seeing as Ishmere barely held herself back. "I'm sure the system changed you in a fundamental way, gave you a skill or a class or something which marks you as different, correct?"
Rennia nodded. May as well tell her—what did she have to lose? "It gave me a class: [Maiden of Eros]."
Ishmere perked up and scooted closer, and grabbed Rennia. "Really? You're sure about that?"
"Yes, now let go of my breasts."
"Sorry." Ishmere giggled. "Subclasses are unique to every person, and not many are fortunate. Yours is divine in nature. Have you perhaps had visions or dialogue with this goddess?"
Rennia shook her head. "No, but I have this weird skill called Sixth Thread. I can sense danger before it hits. I gained it the night before I stumbled upon you. Lightning struck the roof, and a woman appeared under the veil of the lightning. I thought I was hallucinating—she was smiling at me."
"Can you remember what she looked like?"
"No."
"No matter. Very well. You said your main class was that of a Pathfinder, and prior you were a Hyaseed Jack. Now, I'm no class observer, but I'd say your former class was forcibly evolved by the system."
"Are you saying I still have the same goddamn root class? Then what happened to my skills?"
"The system works in ways not even I understand. I think eating that apple accelerated your growth so much your class had to reset to make up for it. Classes don't typically level down after changing or evolving. The system was trying to make it fair."
"By nearly making me forget everything I picked up on? Even my reflexes are weaker. Seems like the living system is the real god."
Ishmere brought her finger to her mouth. "Careful, talk like that, and some people will mistake you for a heretic." She started kicking her feet under the table. "And yes, it should. The system is like an advantageous friend and less of a god. You're fortunate enough to have a class at all. I've heard tales that would make your toes shiver."
"Such as?" Rennia asked, intrigued.
Ishmere held a finger over her mouth again and quieted down.
"Forget about all that, Rennia. We can do proper history lessons later. I have a proper proposition for you. You're free to decline, though our time together will be limited by the nature of the agreement."
Rennia got a bad feeling like she was about to sign a deal with the devil.
"Formally, I'm a sage. Informally, I have a title—a known title. Witch of the New Sun."
Rennia shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Witch wasn't something you used willy-nilly. It had serious negative connotations, life-changing ones.
"You didn't turn men into frogs and cook them in a stew, did you?"
Ishmere snorted and giggled as she held her tummy together. "Those things never even happened—church propaganda. But no, wrong kind of witch. I was instructed by my god to do certain things. Magical errands, sometimes I was a courier, or a messenger. You're one of a handful who know this now, including your mother and Tiamael."
"You're not just some immortal, are you?"
"No. No, I'm not. But let's cut to the chase—Are you at least ready to hear me out?"
Rennia looked down. "I don't think I'll ever be ready."
"That's fair, Rennia, but listen. Two choices, Rennia. Stay with me for a week, and I'll teach you what magic you need to know to ease your sex drive, desire, and libido. You help me, and we bid each other farewell. But I want you gone, because I do have plans that will require permanent, not temporary allies. Two: Stay with me for a year. We did agree to this, but I've had a change of heart. Become my formal apprentice in sorcery and wizardry, bind your soul to me, and I'll teach you the path to power, maybe even immortality. This also means our relationship will become much more serious. More intimate."
"Meaning what? We fuck every day?" Rennia blushed slightly. The thought of her mindlessly exposing herself for easy pleasure piqued her interest, but it wasn't something you could call a lifestyle.
"Maybe, if you want to. The point is, I'm powerless as I am. There's so much I could tell you about why and why not, but I can't if I can't trust you. And I need someone close to maintain my own sensibilities. You seem perfect for the job."
"A year? One year stuck here in this dump?"
Ishmere threw up her arms. "I'll inform you that this was once a respected establishment, and I intend to fix it right away. But I can't have you stay here for too long. I'm a bad person, Rennia, and I have ambitions. So... what will it be? Stay here for a week, or become my formal student for a short time?"
Entitled, crude, and fucked up. That was what she thought about this woman.
Rennia was at the precipice. A week might not be enough to set her for life. Her mother sent her here to be trained, clearly whatever that meant. Ishmere was a badly-wielded jackhammer, but perhaps it was the consequence of being half-dead that affected her for years.
But the offer for power was alluring. If she had power, she could do whatever she wanted. If she was strong, she could free Lyanna and take her wherever she wanted. One year wasn't that long. Two years and she'd change the trajectory of her life forever. But it still wasn't a solution to her "problem."
"What would this entail?"
Ishmere mumbled, "Well, if I'm really horny, you got to do your part, you know. In exchange, you tie your allegiance to me and no one else. And I'll show you the path to power."
Rennia was going to regret this, but she could see the pros outweighed the cons. Ishmere was sexy. Sex was fun, sex was good. She could do it again and again. But she'd lose some privileges—she knew that—but the gains were immense. She still didn't believe that she had penetrative sex three times before ever going near a man.
After much deliberation and silence, Rennia accepted. "Alright."
"Do what?"
"The thing."
"Say it. Mean it. And then take my hand." Ishmere did something with her hand, and magic filled the room. Her hand glowed and she held it out. Rennia took it. "Say it like you mean it."
"I, Rennia Perillion, vow to serve Ishmere as an apprentice for the following year."
Ishmere frowned, staring into her palm. A glyph written in magical symbols covered the ethereal space between them. "Not attentive enough—magic needs intent to work."
Rennia bit her tongue. "And I'll serve no one but her."
Rennia felt a rush of pain flood her body, and something burned into her skin. She pulled back, and Ishmere sat smiling.
"Ow," she mumbled, as the pain dissipated. The living system spoke to her.
[Divine contract established.]
"Don't look like that. Your mother did it once too. I'm not going to harm you, Rennia." The adventurer's face turned sour. Did that mean her mother did the same goddamn things with Ishmere?
"I can't help but feel this is bondage. It's messed up."
"Because absolute power is impossible to ignore. Now, my student, I'm giving you your first task." Rennia gave Ishmere a side-eye. Not even a day's worth of rest after the spider debacle.
Here we go.
"There's a city beyond the overpass of the mountain. We go there tomorrow." Rennia's head stopped like a clock that lost its gears.
"Huh, a city? I didn't know about that."
Tiamael didn't tell her, nor did her mother. Seems like they wanted to keep her here.
Ishmere pointed out of one of the windows in the direction of the destination. "Ivarcant, the city of gold and merchants. We'd be crossing into a neighboring country, so different laws and stuff."
"Does this place really exist on the border?"
"It does, but it technically belongs to Ivarcant—but due to the overabundance of monsters, everyone left it unclaimed."
Rennia moped. "You mean to tell me I could have just gone to that city instead of being stuck here?"
"Yeah, but I'd wager you'd regret not finding me here. No one there will help you with your cock problem."
Rennia stuck out her tongue, dragging the skin of her eye back. Ishmere giggled.
"So, first things first: a carpenter and something to stock up on food."
"One problem—I don't have money and I don't think you have anything of value left. Now what do you want to do?"
"No worries. I have a vault of gold below."
Rennia stood upright, her attention span fixating on the sound of gold. Back home she had to pay taxes, a cut to the guild, and a small amount gifted to her sisters. "Really? How much?" Rennia felt like a gold digger. Ishmere needed to pay for services rendered.
"Enough. And no, you're not getting all of it, and yes, I will be paying you."
"But you're making me a formal employee. I've already been relegated to barmaid, cleaner and cook, not to mention that you made me fuck you."
"Fine. I'll think about it. But since there is a whole day left to wait, I'm pretty bored. All my books are burned, my abilities are gone, so I can't go kill monsters. There's nothing to make. I guess... I'm horny. If only someone would ease this newfound pain I feel below my waist."
Rennia slammed the table. "Nope, not today." Besides, she was "empty," and she needed some fresh fucking air. "Go jerk off or something. I need to think." She needed to think about her way forward, and what that meant for her. She grabbed her blade and ventured outside, glancing back at Ishmere, who stared at her like an owl.
