She stirred, feeling sheets, crisp and clean beneath her. Her hand stretched out, feeling a mattress, before encountering flesh, soft and warm. An answering mumble, semi-awake, as she pulled herself close to them, loosing herself in a mutual closeness, bodies pushing together. From their curves and softnesses, it was a woman – teeth nipped at Janaxia’s neck, making her squirm happily, forcing her eyes open against the painful flare of the morning light, to find herself pushed up close against Asai.

Serpentine eyes smiled at her, and then something scratched down her back, pinpricks scraping down her tender flesh. If it hadn’t been for Asai sealing her mouth with a kiss, then her moan would have been far too loud, but the feeling was exquisite! And then Asai’s other hand moved down, dealing with Janaxia’s needs, clever fingers twisting into her, Janaxia moving to repay the favour.

They pulled each other close as their breath slowed, Janaxia able to feel Asai’s breath and heartbeat. Asai spoke, voice slow and drowsy.

‘Good to see you’re still eager. You remember much?’

Another needle-point tapping down Janaxia’s spine made it hard to focus. ‘I believe we managed to defeat the enemy? Although it does seem a trifle blurry, I must confess.’

She wriggled closer to Asai, taking her in an embrace, feeling for wounds on the woman’s body – her fingers lightly brushed over bruises and scabs, but nothing seemed serious.

‘Yeah, same here. Some weird shit went down. We’re pretty sure Krem’s dead, and Durapi’s gone funny in the head.’ Janaxia started to stroke Asai, hoping for a repeat performance, but the woman shifted away, pulling the blankets back, Janaxia squeaking in protest as the warmth was stripped away. ‘Don’t suppose you know anything about this?’

Janaxia opened her eyes properly – they were in a tavern room, although a nice tavern, to judge by the furniture. Asai was naked, her taut body appealing, although it was now changed – her right arm was now red, the fingers tipped with sharp black nails. That would explain the rather delightfully pointed sensations trickling and dancing down her back! Janaxia shook her head, getting out of bed, feeling the limb. It felt as warm and vital as anything else, blending smoothly with normal-coloured flesh at the shoulder, no sign of any ugly suturing or stitching.

‘Rather striking! A good thing that you have the form to pull off shoulderless clothing, is it not?’

Asai flexed the claws, then ran them along the windowsill, scouring deep marks into the wood. ‘These things seem pretty sharp, damn near ripped my clothes to shreds! It seems like the rest of that bastard’s family were doing some weird ritual, and then everything went to shit. We managed to bug out without drawing heat, but you’ve been mostly out for a few days. Feeling better now?’

Janaxia smiled, taking the chance to savour looking at Asai’s body – a few dents and bruises, but entirely appealing and enticing, her hard, toned muscles tempered with some very attractive curves. ‘Well, it may not be appropriate for some of your activities, but you do manage to pull that look off quite well.’

Asai smiled back, digging her claws deeper into the wood, able to rend the dense material without effort. ‘I suppose the job did seem too good to be true! There’s a cleric I can lean on to check it’s not dangerous. Anef’s been getting into fights with the local toughs to test his, left one a ruined mess. Although had a hell of a scare the first time he tried to piss!’

‘Oh, I do hope there was no permanent damage?’ It would be a shame if Anef were to damage himself there.

Asai shook her head, then approached. ‘Oh, he’s quite intact, or so he says. But he’s had his fun with you, and now it’s my turn.’ She grabbed Janaxia in a rough embrace, kissing her and drawing her back to the bed, appetites clearly aroused. ‘This is new though. Thought you’d be too fancy for that sort of thing, but it looks good on you.’ She poked a nail between Janaxia’s chest. There was a black mark there, an elegant looping whirl, about a finger-length in size. Any scar she bore was fortunately hidden behind the pattern – did it have a meaning? No, at least not one she recognised.

‘Must be some weird magical thing, I guess?’ Asai pressed her nail just a touch harder, just shy of breaking skin.

‘Yes, precisely.’ How had she gotten that? She could remember fighting the golem, and commanding the darkness… Had it somehow settled into her?

‘Looks good though. Little bit of rough, sets you off nicely.’ She kissed Janaxia, hard. ‘But enough talk! We’ve done the hard part, now we get to have some fun.’

By the time they were finished, it was well past noon. Janaxia’s stomach growled, empty from her adventures, her more recent exertions having left her equally drained, even if they were more pleasurable than fighting wizards and golems in hidden chambers.

Her dress had been hung on the back of the door, fine material now begrimed with blood and dirt. Still, it was that or go naked, and the material still felt delicious upon her skin, settling tightly over her body. From Asai’s hungry look, she was equally appreciative as she dressed herself in rather plainer clothing. Janaxia helped her, the demon-hand rending fragile fabric with ease.

Wherever they were staying had a private dining room for a suite of rooms, a table stacked high with food. Anef and Shanelle were there, Anef eating, Shanelle sat in a corner, a hood covering her face. Anef looked up as they entered.

‘You two been having fun?’ He tossed an apple at Asai, who caught it with her demon hand, accidentally slicing it in two, sticky juice dribbling her fingers. ‘Shanelle’s not feeling great, I’ve been trying to cheer her up.’

The girl looked up, and Janaxia caught a glimpse of her face – an angry red scar slashed over one cheek, past her eye, onto her brow. Matters were scarcely helped by her face being puffy and swollen, tears trickling down from her eyes.

Asai shrugged, unsympathetic. ‘Tough break, but we got the job done and got paid.’

Janaxia detached herself from Asai and approached, carefully reaching out and brushing her hand against Shanelle’s shoulder, drawing her attention as she sat next to her. She stroked the girl, making quiet, soothing noises, carefully drawing the hood down. Yes, the scar was quite lengthy, her fair features now marked with a glaring slash. She ran a finger down Shanelle’s face, careful not to touch the wound itself.

‘You have two choices, my dear. You can work with it, embrace it and use it to highlight your allure, as a person of danger and power.’ She moved in closer, whispering into the girl’s ear. ‘Scars are rather appealing, after all, and add a distinct flair, especially in your profession. Maybe a little more crimson in your outfits to complement it, a little dashing asymmetry? Or you can make it a point of charm – perhaps a half-mask, plain and white, with a single bloody teardrop on the cheek. You would be quite the equal of any noble. Imagine, such a sight descending from the ceiling during a grand ball, demanding those present divest themselves of their jewellery or face consequences! Maybe with a tight tunic, something in black, a touch of silver embroidery, perhaps?’

Shanelle fell against her, letting Janaxia cradle her close to her chest, stroking her hair, until the girl finished sobbing.

‘Shh, shh. You no longer have the fresh face and complexion of a maiden, but now you have something greater. You could be magnificent! So please; no more of this sobbing. I will grant that it looks a touch unsightly at this precise moment, but once it has healed, then you will have the raw material to be a wonder, a legend of the shadows.’

She looked up to see both Anef and Asai looking at her, shocked expressions on their face, before Shanelle rose, pushing her face against Janaxia’s and kissing her. By the time she was done, Janaxia was short of breath and flustered, as Shanelle looked at her, tears still trickling down her face, but at least seeming less upset now.

‘You really think so? You think I’m still attractive?’

‘Oh, of course! A beautiful face is no great accomplishment, but the deeds behind it, the will to exert oneself against the world, to rein it and bind it to your own will; these are the true markers of beauty. Although, of course, you have outward beauty as well.’ Shanelle began to cry again, grabbing Janaxia in a tight embrace, sobbing into her chest, as Janaxia patted her on the head. She personally thought the mask would be more appealing – a female figure, face half-hidden, descending from the darkness, wreathed in darkness and mystery; yes, the nobles would practically be competing with themselves to get robbed!

Fortunately, it didn’t take long for her to cry herself to sleep, Janaxia detaching herself, putting the girl to rest on her seat and helping herself to some food. ‘I do hope she recovers soon.’

Asai approached, grabbing her in a tight hug. ‘Not too soon, I need to properly enjoy you first! I don’t like sharing.’ She kissed Janaxia’s neck, hard enough to make her gasp. ‘Oh yeah, your almost lost your spellbook.’ She pointed at an old-looking book, left in a patch of sunlight. ‘I know how much store you wizards put in your books, so bought it along. We got what we came for, but seems to be a lot of work for a single page.’

Staying within Asai’s embrace, she twisted around and tapped it, the covers flapping open. Words and concepts suddenly blossomed within her, a will to conquer, a thirst for power. To rule, dominate and crush, to set herself atop all, the sole determinator of… She was jerked out of these thoughts as Asai kissed her again, pinprick points of pain as her nails danced up and down Janaxia’s back. ‘Don’t go spacing out on me, I reckon you’re not even half-tired yet!’ Another kiss and she felt herself starting to rise to the challenge Asai clearly wanted, the urge to dominate and rule fading beneath other, more pleasurable and achievable wants.

Anef coughed, before a dismissive wave from Asai made it clear that he should be leaving. He picked Shanelle up into a bridal carry, making a retreat.

There was something wonderfully decadent, almost debauched, about such a scenario, having to make do with the chairs and tables to support themselves, rather than the more traditional bed or couch. Still, Asai was more than equal to the task, her tongue and fingers eliciting a delightful succession of gasps and pleasures, Janaxia reciprocating. Janaxia kicked the book underneath the table, not wanting it to get underfoot.

Several days later, it was, sadly, time for her to take her leave. Shanelle had found a chance to change her costume, and her scar was now hidden behind a curve of blood-red leather, a teardrop of black on her cheek – the image of a dashing rogue, one that would have her ‘victims’ practically begging to be tied up and ravaged, at least if they had any taste at all! Truly magnificent, and she had even invested some of her cut of the profits into better clothing. A little plain still, at least for Janaxia’s tastes, but she supposed there was a certain amount of practicality required.

Still, both Anef and Asai were looking a little tired and drained – doubtless the aftereffects of whatever spell had afflicted them. Both had quickly grown used to their new arms, revelling in the extra power they now had, claws sharp enough to slice and rend with ease. It seemed probable their foes would soon learn to fear their new-found power! They embraced, before Janaxia climbed into the carriage, allowing it to rumble off.

As it drove, Janaxia let herself smile broadly. That had been a success! And entirely pleasurable, the time she had spent with both Anef and Asai (such a regret they were unwilling to participate simultaneously, but she supposed siblings didn’t like to share such things) a veritable delight. The next time she saw Kinnevar, she would have to tell time – it might not compare to some of his own adventures, but now, at last, she had an adventure of her own to talk about!

Her new spellbook sat on her waist, contained within a leather harness; it seemed far larger than she remembered. There was a momentary blurring in her mind; no, it had always been like that. It was something of a shame that only a single page of their objective had been retrieved, the ancient tome having faded to almost nothing over time, but Mother would have to be satisfied with that. She checked the scroll case, popping it open to make sure that she hadn’t somehow lost the thing.

Curiously, she opened the spellbook Mother had given her, the thing feeling unfamiliar in her hands. It was warm to the touch, the thick leather decorated with spiralling brassy whorls, even a few gems. Text appeared, heavy black shapes swirling onto the smooth parchment as she flicked through the pages, an amusing enchantment, hiding the text until it was being looked at, reading part at random.

Yes, that made sense. Her fingers danced through the air, dark energy spilling forth, her clothing altering itself, a window appearing between her breasts to display her tattoo (mercifully the scar was all-but-invisible beneath the heavy black lines). And maybe a little tighter around the waist, and a touch higher and tighter at the neck? A shame she didn’t have a mirror to properly assess her look – not that Mother would approve, but that wouldn’t be an issue for much longer. Simply deposit the item and then seek her own adventure.

Although probably without telling Mother – it seemed the path of least resistance that way, rather than risk raising further ire or punishment. At home, she was simply the unwanted extra, but here, in the wider world, she could be Janaxia Uth Tremari, heir to an ancient bloodline! She felt her confidence swell, and with it, her power, as she used magic to ensure she looked as fine and majestic as she should. No more would she suffer prickly, ill-fighting robes, moth-eaten and baggy, horrible shoes! Only the finest of clothing and companions – she would have to seek out an adventuring party to ally herself with.

Maybe a lithesome rogue, all wiry muscle and lean strength? Or an outlander, honed and dextrous from a life in the wilderness, marked with interesting tattoos. Maybe a cleric or priestess, dedicated to their deity? Although hopefully not sworn to chastity! As she daydreamed, she flicked through the spellbook – for the first time, it seemed to make sense, even if the principles were radically different to anything else she had ever seen. Although the knife was a disappointment – whatever magical power it had once borne was now gone, the metal plain and dull, without the sheen of enchantment.

Unnoticed by Janaxia, a pale red glow illuminated the inside of the carriage, her forelock emitting a pale glow as she flicked through the pages, the text appearing, suddenly making sense, an entirely different paradigm of magical power than she had ever seen before. Not dependent upon dull knowledge, of memorising incantations and formulae, but of will and presence. Where had Mother found such a thing? She tapped the gem, wanting to share the news with Ranaria, but, unusually, the wraith didn’t make an appearence. The gem itself seemed duller than normal – perhaps she was resting or tired? Either way, Janaxia turned to the spellbook, the writing making sense, spells explained in a way that was coherent!