The Maje’s Chained Spirit shoved him into the room before filling the entrance with his mass.

“What did you do?” he asked, his voice icy with restrained anger.

This is where I lie, then he applies pressure, then I cave. Not my first Shliek-ride.

“I was going to visit Ella but she wasn’t in her tent, then I heard someone scream fire, so I investigated, then headed back here.”

“And you felt the need to remove the restraints.”

“They are awfully uncomfortable.”

“How?”

“I made a key. It’s not much of a lock.”

The massive Genosian seized Cal by the back of the neck, wrenching a strangled cry out of him as he lifted Cal off his feet one-handed.

“Did you set the fire?” Aoehe asked.

“Nope.” Calvin was most afraid that Aoehe would see the cut in his palm, trying to turn it away from the man as naturally as possible by gripping the massive Chained Spirit’s fingers with his left hand.

Calvin felt the point of a blade settle on the small of his back, right behind his liver.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Fine, I set the damn fire.”

“Why? What were you doing?” he asked.

“Like I said –“ He felt the point jab into him a bit harder. “I was looking for a way to escape.” He relented. “Looking for supplies to steal for my trip.”

“Hum. I see.”

Maybe I could reach into the earth and use Splitting to create a stone blade fifty feet above his head? it would take a little finesse, but gravity shoul-

Calvin’s thoughts were cut off when Aoehe threw his hand forward, and an identical green bolt of energy lanced forward, catching him in the chest.

Cal was locked uncomfortably in place, every muscle in his body seized in place, completely unable to move, barely able to breath.

“We’ll have to move the ceremony up to tonight. Bring him.” Aoehe said, marching past Cal.

The six-foot Chained Spirit threw Cal over his shoulder, carrying him like a stiff board, his arms still locked in an awkward clutching posture.

Move, move move! Cal demanded. Why can’t I move!?”

Answer: Your Stability is not strong enough to shrug off the effects. Your Will has begun digesting the foreign Bent, ETA 4 minutes.

Anything you can do to speed that up? Cal thought.

Nope.

Damnit.

Aoehe’s Chained Spirit hauled Cal back to his tent and leaned him up a cabinet in the middle of the room. By the time they got there, Ella was unfrozen, rubbing her right nipple and glaring at him.

I didn’t think my actions would have consequences! Cal thought, horrified.

I didn’t know you could think sarcastically. I’m impressed.

Who are you!?

“Ella, your Incha Huala here tried to escape, and lit a fire in Mayea’s tent to do it.”

“Did he?” Ella asked, walking up to Cal and studying him with a mischievous grin.

…oh no.

You know what they say…

“Sounds like he needs to be punished. Boop.” She tapped his nose, then reached out, grabbed his nipple and twisted.

AAAAAAAGH! That was way harder than mine! Cal’s paralyzed body was only able to watch the girl’s sharktoothed grin.

Turnabout is fair play.

To the nine hells with fair play!

Satisfied with her work, she pulled out a bloody rag, turned it to a dry spot and quickly wiped the blood off his left palm.

She winked.

“Yes, we’re going to do the ritual now,” Aoehe called over his shoulder as he mixed the bowl of blood into the green brew, stirring it with a strange wooden whisk. The glowing green concoction turned a strange glowing pink with the addition of blood. “Or he dies now, your choice. I can’t risk a Lueaya as slippery as he obviously is running around the village any longer.”

“I think death would be letting him off too easy. I see what you meant about him being a stupid, crude, uncontrollable foreigner.” Ella said with a smile. “Let’s do it.”

Aoehe finished mixing the brew and poured it into two separate containers, one of which had a long funnel at the end.

I wonder which one’s mine, Cal thought, rolling his eyes.

As expected Aoehe pried open Cal’s mouth, bringing the wooden funnel into his mouth. The rough grain caught against his tongue Aoehe pulled his jaw lower and mercilessly shoved the funnel into the back of his throat.

He would have gagged or vomited if he could, but instead, a metallic, tangy mixture began to pour down his throat, and it was everything Cal could do not to breathe it in, clamping his windpipe shut as hard as he could. Cal tried to writhe and kick. His body started moving just a little bit when another green bolt hit him in the chest, resetting his timer.

Damnit!

All the fun of suffocation with none of the payoff.

When Cal was starting to see stars, Aoehe withdrew the funnel, leaving a couple drops on his tongue. It was a bizarre, metallic flavor. Not just because of the blood in the mix it seemed to hold something that sizzled and moved on the tastebuds.

Cal struggled to breath, his mouth feeling violated where the wood funnel had bruised his lips and throat. A stringy bit of phlegm threatened to work its way into his lungs, but he was too weak to cough.

This is almost as bad as training with Karen.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Aoehe said, leaving the tent.

A small silence stretched between the two of them.

“You’re welcome,” she said, cleaning up the bowls and setting them on her father’s shelf, her body wiggling appealingly as she did.

Welcome? I think you mean we’re even, especially after that titty-twister.

Not how I tallied up the points, there.

You can sit on a Grensha, mysterious System voice.

The mysterious System voice didn’t deign to respond.

So how long’s this thing supposed to take? Cal thought, but the System voice didn’t respond.

Guess I made it mad. Or something.

Watching Ella work at cleaning up the mess, he didn’t feel anything in particular. A little queasy in his stomach, but that could just be a side effect of having splintery wood jammed down his throat. Maybe his Stability was too high to even be effected, if the paralysis beam was anything to go by.

Then she turned around.

She’s so nice, Cal thought, seeing her perfect lips and delicate brows. She was willing to go against her father to give me a fair shot at the Guya bond. That was really cool of her.

And wiping my hand so Aoehe didn’t see that I’d mixed my blood into the bowl. She basically saved my life.

I could see myself working for someone like that…

Shit, it’s already working! Cal thought with a panicked jolt of adrenaline.

Ella glanced idly over at where he was leaning against the cabinet and frowned, staring. Cal saw her pupils dilate until all he could see was black.

Is that happening to me!?

Ella stepped closer, cleanup from the ceremony forgotten. He could feel the heat from her skin she began inspecting him, running her fingers over his cheeks and memorizing his shape.

Now that she was this close, he felt as though they were two pairs of lodestone, somehow inexplicably pulled together by an invisible force. Slowly, their eyes got closer to each other as Ella Bent down, her chest heaving against his as she panted, resting her forehead against his own.

Her eyes were so close that they became one. One pitch black portal into her soul. He saw a roiling tendril of pink in that black expanse, the vapor from the concoction. It reached out and latched onto another that seemed to come from his own eyes, creating a bridge between them.

And then the tug-of-war started.

Call didn’t have any other way to describe it. For an instant, it felt as though he were being sucked out of his own body into Ella’s, falling into her eyes, drawn along by that pink tendril. He fell along the bridge between them, his entire body drawn out of himself, plummeting toward her like the bottom of a well.

It was going to be perfect. He could already feel himself becoming one inside her, stretching out to fill the places she lacked…becoming an extension…

A flicker of Persei’s defiled corpse flashed in his mind.

No!

Cal pulled.

With every fiber of his being, he struggled to pull backward, slowly sliding back into his body, until he was back where he started.

Call didn’t stop there, continuing to tug on the bond until he saw Ella’s form crossing the bridge between the two of them, struggling, but unafraid. She wore a smile as if this were some friendly competition and not a life or death struggle.

Is it life or death? Cal thought to himself, his temporary distraction allowing her to slip backwards.

It doesn’t matter. In any case, winning is always better than losing.

Cal redoubled his efforts, pulling Ella towards himself. I mean, unless pulling them into you means you do what they want. Am I competing to win, or lose?

Gah, it doesn’t matter, I’ll win against this slattern and deal with the rest later.

Ella was tugged across the bridge toward him, struggling like a fish on a hook as he pulled her into himself.

How about that, you-

Ella, now close enough to touch inside him, gave a wicked grin and grabbed his arms before pulling backward with more force than she’d mustered until that point.

Cal screamed as he was dragged out of himself again, into the center of the bridge by Ella, who wasn’t holding back now that she’d caught ahold of him.

They were falling at top speeds toward the black portal behind her, when Cal managed to regain his foothold, shoving every harsh training session, every ounce of will that had compelled him to stand back up at her in a wave of memories that made her lose her grip, allowing them to slip backward partway across the bridge.

She answered back with the most horrifying memories of her childhood, the sensation of watching her pet get eaten, losing her mother.

Cal fired back with a week in a blood, piss and shit filled box.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, allowing him to tug them back towards him.

She responded with the emotion of killing her younger her sister to spare her the pain of Joyaga poison.

The horrible feeling stunned Cal long enough to drag him dozens of feet, stopping just in front of the black portal behind her.

Cal shot back with the feeling of seeing his village burning at the hands of the Genosians, but it didn’t quite compare, somewhere in the back of his mind, he believed Karen and Jinnei were alive and well.

Ella shrugged off the memory and continued drawing him into her, buffeting him with a thousand memories of a life of hardship.

Sinking into her eyes felt good, like slipping into a warm bath.

No, I need something, something deeper, something stronger, something Darker.

Cal dived into himself, desperately searching for a little bit of extras juice to resist her with. Was there anything? Anything he’d forgotten? Anything he’d done?

Cal scanned through his memories, despairing at their ho-hum sheep-filled averageness. He certainly hadn’t mercy-killed his own sister.

He searched and rifled through his memories faster than he thought possible, when he noticed a pattern. He was avoiding something. Every time he turned his mind in one specific direction, he would unconsciously avoid that memory.

Cal turned sideways in his own mind, sidling stealthily up to the memory, whistling as he perused others. Wouldn’t wanna startle it.

He reached a hand up to his right while he was viewing a memory of helping Karen herd sheep when he was five.

He felt something cold inside his mind. A smooth barrier that radiated ennui blocking off…something.

I don’t have time for that shit, Cal thought, sinking his dream-hand into the dream-stone and turning to face it.

Pinning it down like this, he was able to see it. A thick stone wall separating himself from…some other part of himself.

In the manner of dreams, Cal reeled his hand back and punched the wall with all his force, shattering it. He needed juice to win the tug-of-war now.

The stone fell away, exposing a pitch-black emptiness beyond the limits of his soul. A thick black mist began to flow through the rent in the wall, pooling around his feet.

Something tells me this was ill-advised, Cal thought, watching the mist.

Something moved outside the hole in his soul.

Cal took a step forward, into the emptiness. Rationally, he realized he should be closing the hole back up as quickly as he could and running the other way, but the trill of terror working it’s way up the back of his neck had no effect on his feet that kept moving forward.

The jagged doorway into his memories shrank behind him, a tiny pinpoint of light in an ocean of black. The air was stale, but there seemed to be motion at the corner of his eyes, but every time he looked, the nightmare creatures hungrily surrounding him seemed to meekly subside.

In the center of this black expanse, was a mirror without a frame, jutting out of the black floor, facing him.

In the center of the mirror, he impassively watched himself approach.

This Calvin, the one in the mirror, was paler than him, longer of hair, slighter of build, and with a bit of a gut and bulging nose. He knew it was him though, from the way he stood, to the mischievous smirk he was giving him.

He wore a black shirt and green pants made from the finest woven cotton Calvin had ever seen. The pants weren’t even cotton. They almost looked like velvet.

The black shirt had some strange blocky script between two arrows that pointed up and down.

Behind the pale Calvin were racks upon racks of clothes the likes of which he’d never seen before of brilliant colors and perfect craftsmanship. Even further beyond was a window whose size defied logic, stretching to the ceiling of the room the man was in. The window revealed a strange stone floor with burning glass buildings jutting out of it. It was like nowhere Calvin had ever seen.

The pale Calvin raised his hand, startling Cal out of his observation. He tapped his skull and pulled out a memory, encapsulated in some kind of bubble. Calvin watched the memory pass through the mirror, floating in front of him.

Pale Calvin clapped his hands over his eyes.

Don’t look at it.

Calvin studied the opaque bubble floating in front of him.

It’s either that or getting eaten. He decided, reaching out and seizing the memory. Anguish, helplessness and guilt rolled off the bubble in a thick miasma as he seized it with his hand.

Cal had the strange feeling this would hurt Ella, badly.

“You got anything that won’t cause irreparable damage?” He asked. “Giving women mental trauma is frowned upon in modern society.”

Pale Calvin crossed his arms and scowled.

“I guess not.”

Like a wooden soldier on a string, Cal was yanked backwards, out of the black room, out of his memories, and back into the bridge between him and Ella, falling from the depths of his own eyes.

“Sorry about this.” Cal muttered, pressing the sphere into the Genosian girl. She gave a quiet gasp and shivered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Cal seized the opportunity to drag her backwards, towards himself.

When Cal came to his senses, his lips were occupied by Ella’s, his hands occupied by her hips. They were lying on the floor, pawing each other. Ella’s hair was messy, and her top was partially shoved aside, revealing one grey-purple breast and dark purple nipple.

When did this happen!?

Cal wasn’t doing too great either, his tongue had multiple nicks from her teeth, his shirt was in tatters, there was a painful, bleeding bite mark on his shoulder, and her left hand was currently exploring his half-shed pants.

More than anything though, Cal was running out of air.

He drew his face away from hers and gasped for breath. The sudden noise seemed to draw her out of her drug-fueled stupor. Her eyes widened from their half-lidded state as she came to full alertness.

“Did I win?” Cal asked groggily.

“It wasn’t about winning and losing, it was about creating a bond,” she said breathlessly. Her uncovered stomach against his sending shivers of delight up his spine. “Knowing each other better than mere words can allow.”

Ah so that was the point of the memory-fight.

“Yeah, but did I win?”

“I felt some truly painful memories inside you for an instant. I couldn’t see them, but I felt them. I’ve never felt anything like that. I’m…sorry you had to go through that. You could call that a win if you wish.”

“Could you let go of my um…manhood?” Cal asked politely.

She blinked and glanced down at his pants sleepily before unclenching her fingers and releasing him, leaving only one lump in his trousers.

“Apologies,” she said without a hint of shame as her faculties slowly returned to her. she tucked her chest back into her leather top and struggled to roll away from him, her limbs seemingly weak.

Calvin tried to push himself up, but the floor and gravity didn’t exactly mesh. Everything told him that he should be falling her direction. When he tried to stand up again, he overcompensated and toppled away from her, smashing into Aoehe’s shelves.

Well that can’t be good.