Giggles. The air is rife with an impassable fog and a toxic gas that makes all those who inhale it die from unstoppable laughter. If the laughter doesn’t kill you, the noise you make will give away your location in the fog, and you will be beseeched by Mistlings that will tear you into a thousand pieces.”

I scratched my arm through my armor. “Of course.”

Erzili gave me a large smile. “With you, here, Janus, Erzili believes we may be able to defeat Giggles and add him to our ranks. Or, at the very least, eliminate him, and secure the Lagoon as part of our territory.”

She grabbed several wooden pieces, placing them on the map on the table. “If we can secure the Lagoon, we’ll have a way to directly land an attack on Fort Sobaka. Erzili’s spies report that the Kobolds have an excess of food they’ve been stockpiling in preparation for Ghash’s call to summon a Horde.”

“You have spies?”

Her lips twitched. “Erzili believes it’ll be best to take Fort Sobaka before they mobilize the Horde. Of course, for that end, we’ll need to first take Krvavi Lagoon.”

“Yes, yes, I got it.” I waved my hand. “Take the Lagoon, get food, then take the Fort, get more food and more troops.”

“In the meantime, Erzili will assign a team to head into Masakh Mountain and find the memory-thief, so you can rest easy your concerns about losing your memory.”

My hand waving in the air stopped. “You remembered.”

She knelt in front of me, taking my gauntleted hand into hers. “Janus, you are my Master. Your concerns are my concerns. Your wishes, my wishes. Your desires, my desires.

Your wrath, my wrath. Your people shall be Erzili’s people, just as you, shall be Erzili’s god.”

Her blue eyes sparkled with an unearthly light. Her hand, softly, took off my gauntlet and slipped her palm into mine. Her flesh was warm. It was a warmth I had all but forgotten. A warmth so familiar, and yet, so foreign.

“Thank you… Erzili.”

The Slithercreep smiled at me. Soft lips kissed the back of my hand. I felt electricity run up my spine from the touch. She was beautiful. Beautiful, but not real. Yet, I found myself asking what was and wasn’t real. Whether I, a being who had been nothing but a skeleton for the longest time, had the right to judge what was and wasn’t real.

Her touch was real. Her smile was real. Her compassion, was real.

I removed my mask, dropping it to the side. I pulled off the gauntlet of my second hand, keeping it aside. I touched her face. She examined her blue eyes. Drank in the beauty of her rich, chocolate skin.

“Janus…”

“Just… for a moment…”

Her lips, I realized, were a myriad of tastes. She could make them into anything she wanted. I tasted wine, juice, fruits. I tasted blood, hard liquor, smoke. I tasted the sea, leaves, vines. I tasted paper, ink, and sand. The tastes blurred as I searched for more, my tongue, hungry for more, my chest, hungrier for more.

I knew I was entering into a rabbit hole. Going to the point of no return. As my hands roamed, my mind felt the softness of flesh, my ears heard the shortness of breath, my nostrils breathed a rich scent of roses, lavender, flowers, arousal –

To find comfort in the embrace of a nightmare, softness and beauty in the deepest hearts of darkness. It was with a manic, ardent sense of fervor that I stripped down to nothingness, staring into the rich, sultry blue eyes of the woman before me. It was with frenzied, chaotic passion, that I allowed myself, without care nor restraint, feel the familiar warmth of a fire, the sensation of a woman.

For the first time since I was reborn in Alamir…

I was alive.

Chapter 13: Better than One

“Sir, sir? Um – sir, kindly wake up sir.”

I startled, leaning back against my chair, my eyes immediately going wide. Chair? Since when does Fort Zyvar have chairs?

A soft, leathery chair, enough that I could lean back into it, enough that it was immediately memorable, in that the seat was adjusted to a height that suited me perfectly. My eyes, opened, to stare at the scene before me. A large office, the chatter of workers and bustle of activities going on in the background. A familiar window, a familiar desk, littered with papers, documents and a laptop with a suspended online chess game.

“Sir?”

My head snapped up, to the feminine voice. Distinct. Memorable. The plain black hair, office skirt, and top brought back memories I did not remember I ever had. The rectangular-rimmed glasses, and perpetual uncertain look on her face.

“Jen…Jennifer?”

Jennifer Herbert’s uncertain expression turned into one of worry. “Is something wrong sir? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

My lips felt dry. I stared, hard. Each second felt like a minute, and the minutes stretched on, with Jennifer adjusting her skirt and her buttons in a typical manner she would do when feeling subconscious.

“Sir… the papers –”

“This… this is…”

Déjà vu was not enough to encompass the feeling. I stood promptly, startling her. Two long strides and I grabbed her arm, checking, and examining.

“S-sir – what are you doing?”

Warm to the touch. The tactile sensations were indistinguishable from reality. I took a whiff, ignoring her immediate shudder of complaint, and the familiar scent of lilac hit my nose. The scent of her perfume mixed with her natural smell, a smell I had forgotten, but could never truly forget.

She ripped her arm free, backing away from me. “Sir.” Her voice became firm. Her gaze flickered to behind me, outside my office. “I would kindly ask you to stop.”

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. A laugh escaped my lips as I started counting from one to ten. Upon reaching ten,

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