Academy Days: Outcasts – 1

There are few places to study in Camelot without interruption. At the libraries, there’s a decent chance a classmate recognizes you and asks for help. At the cafes, people try to sell you their overpriced drinks. And in the empty classrooms, the janitors get pissy about sharpening your talons.

You are Wednesday, and you are feeling the burden of acing seven classes in one semester.

Not academically, magic and rote memorization is easy.

You are dealing with the worst kind of thing at this college.

People. Eugh. Just thinking about all their fleshy bits, constantly excreting sweat and skin makes your stomach churn. You take a sip of demon rations from a specially made milk box. It has Thanksgiving’s face on it, innocently disguising demon rations as a minotauress-themed milk box.

Life as a solitary demon in deep cover can be…resource lacking. You’ve been spending most of your free time trying to make an undetectable summoning circle to bring things to and from Haven. Maybe even a creature that could assist you. You can subsist for now, but when those rations finally run dry, you’ll have to rely on your own abilities to pull DESIRE.

Or worse, shamefully feed on your own DESIRE by masturbating.

You’ve tested the summoning rituals a few times. Even the small ones leave an obvious magic imprint. Enough for a squad of Holy Knights to come investigate. It just goes to show that whoever summoned you here knew what they were doing.

Which is why you find yourself in the forest below Camelot plateau. There are a few paths that lead down here. You’re quite partial to the old catacombs. Even if, as a harpy, it’s faster to fly down. You’re scratching circles into the dirt and calculating the arcane wavelengths affected by each line when you hear someone approach.

Your nostrils flare in irritation and wave a wing, the shadows from your feathers wisping into the forest. You’re not the only one down here; several of your classes require people to come into the forest for samples. Or it could be a dangerous, bloodthirsty animal. Either way, the hypnosis you weaved into the shadows has already affected them.

Whoever or whatever is coming this way will be convinced that you’re not here.

Hypnosis works best as a subtle art. It takes skill, nuance. You can’t break out of something if nobody realizes anything’s different.

You hop up into the branches and wait. You could have slipped into the shadows, but—There she is.

Fracti.

A pain in the rectum hippie girl. Last time you tried hiding in shadows from her, she followed you. She didn’t know it was you, but she could tell something was in the shadows, and she tried coaxing it out. When that didn’t work, she coaxed ‘the spirits’ to bring you out.

That almost worked.

You got out of there fast. Since then you’ve been more efficient, and more effective, with your hypnotism abilities.

Fracti awkwardly flaps through the canopy and stumbles through a landing. Somehow, this harpy is terrible at flying. No wonder none of the other harpies want to accept her into their social groups. Her head swivels around, soft eyes blinking owlishly.

“Hmm? Odd…I thought for sure someone was here.”

Good, now scram. Go find your botany samples elsewhere.

Of course, you can’t just command her to do that. There has to be a reason that makes sense in context. Otherwise, there are vulnerabilities in the weave of hypnosis. Vulnerabilities that are exposed the more questions someone asks themselves.

“Oh well. The spirits sense nobody else nearby, so…”

…What.

She’s taking her clothes off.

What is she doing? Why? For no reason? Are you hallucinating? Is this what happens when a demon goes mad with hunger? Or are you so hungry that you’re unintentionally hypnotizing her?

She unzips her large sweater and takes it off, a hard feat for a harpy. She struggles around and takes off her shirt, confirming that you have to be imagining things. Those are what? Double, triple Es?

Impossible.

No harpy, not even any succubus harpy, has ever gone above D’s. And those...bazongas? The honkers? The mushy love pillows? They droop obscenely from her slender frame, the impossibility of it all drawing your eyes like a pair of jiggling beacons. You are down bad.

Fracti then takes off her pants, revealing a thin, innocent slit. Not even a little wet. She’s taking her clothes off, gallivanting in the clearing, and…now she’s singing.

She’s going around singing, and the plants, the wind, the bugs, even the birds begin to join with her song. What sort of hippie princess is she?

She pauses. Your heart stops. She surveys all the lines you’ve scratched into the ground and cocks her head like an owl struggling to understand where its meal went.

“Ritual circles?” This isn’t good. She inclines her head, as if listening to someone. “No, you’re right. It’s hasn’t been warded properly. I don’t know where it’s going, but it’s certainly not safe from wayward spirits.”

She leans down to get a closer look, her juicy behind gently swerving in your direction.

Is she doing this intentionally? This has to be a joke, right?

No, keep calm. You’re paranoid and jumping at shadows. You share a few classes with her, and she’s always been the reserved, quiet type. Even when Cherry drags her somewhere, she speaks in a soft whisper, if at all.

So she’s a nudist. It’s reasonable that someone will become a wallflower if what makes them comfortable is so…incongruous with Prillian standards. She’s a lot more agreeable than October, anyway.

Something rushes through the shadows, your hypnotism settling on it just as it bursts through the bushes. It’s a giant, orange…Shiba Inu? You tense as it bowls over Fracti and she screams. You’re about to jump in to save the dumb introvert from getting her throat torn out when you hear the giggles.

“Cherry! Stooooop!” Fracti squirms as the kobold showers Fracti’s nude from in slobbery dog kisses. “Sun and stars, you’re getting me wet!”

You ignore that for now.

You didn’t recognize the kobold, her strained clothes disappearing under a thick layer of fur. Cherry looks like a real kobold now, even if she retains her general poofiness. She hops back up, her tail wagging as she waits for Fracti. Very rarely do you find yourself off-kilter, but recent interactions with the two has made the uncomfortable feeling more prevalent. Fracti stands, practically showing off her glistening body, and digs her fingers to itch the kobold by the ears. Cherry pants loudly, a leg twitching giddily.

“Who’s a good girl?” Fracti itches Cherry harder. “You are! You are!”

“I am, I am!” Cherry giggles.

Suddenly, Fracti gets a weird expression and wraps her wings around Cherry in a big hug. A spark of DESIRE fades as quick as it appeared, and Fracti squeezes Cherry tighter.

“Fracti! Fracti! FractiFractiFracti!” Cherry’s tail wags faster. “Whacha doin’? Whatcha doin, whatcha doin’!?”

“Hm? Sorry…” Fracti lets go, significantly drier thanks to Cherry’s abundant fluff. “I almost felt…something. Sometimes it’s on the edge of my…never mind. I’m looking at a ritual circle, Cherry. It’s…okay.”

You grind your teeth. Okay? Fracti’s the annoying type of person to always mince her words. She might as well have said that your ritual circle was drawn by paraplegic crab! You’re acing your ritualism class, you should be able to do this.

“It looks like someone from Camelot U. made it.” Fracti traces her primaries over your circle. “It’s impressive that they made something close to a summoning circle with the textbooks they give us. Not a goblin with background, or someone from Reeds…it’s not aimed at Niflheim or any youkai’s realm. It’s a realm the none of the druids have ever—”

“Plbblblblblblblbblblblbblblblt!” Cherry blows a raspberry. “Boring! C’mon let’s chase something!”

“Cherry, this could be something important.” Fracti’s tone is rarely so firm.

Cherry’s ears droop and she whines. Fracti’s firm stance instantly crumbles and she sighs wryly.

“Okay…here, chase Ms. Sparrow. She says she’s the fastest in this part of the forest.” Fracti trills, a sparrow chitters back before disappearing back into the forest.

Cherry gallops on all fours after it.

This was enlightening. You’d anticipated censorship at the University, but who could have known that there’d be such a potent source of information? You’ve been going about this the wrong way; university classes are a good foundation, but true expertise comes from those with backgrounds.

How much more can you learn, can Haven learn, if you coaxed some information from the two? You bite your tongue and swoop to Fracti’s side. The hypnotism is still active, so her very mind refuses to register you. You’re hoping she’ll start talking to herself again, but all she does is shrug and turn away from the circle.

It seems you’ll have to, ugh, interact.

You release the hypnotism. Fracti turns around immediately, covering herself in her wings with a loud screech.

“Kya!”

You stare at each other for a few long moments, her teal eyes darting in every direction.

“What are you doing?” You grumble.

Her lip quivers and tears begin to gather in her big, teal eyes. Quinn’s tits, she’s about to cry, isn’t she? And there she goes, blubbering as tears down her cheeks. You manage to decipher through her ragged crying that she thinks you’re about to report her for ‘deviancy’. You roll your eyes and pick up her clothes.

You’re probably the first succubus to help someone get dressed without having sex with them. This is pathetic.

It takes a couple tries to get her to stop crying as you help her put her clothes on. Something about your dead-eyed face must make it hard for her to understand that you honestly don’t care she was naked. Finally, she calms down and explains herself.

“The forest in the lowland is rich with spirits. Druid used to come here to commune with them, practice the old faith.” Her eyes are downcast. “Not many shepherd the beasts and the spirits here. The natural magical energies are…um…strange. Foreign yet familiar.”

She’s mentioned the old faith before. The people of Avalon have worshipped the Empyreans for tens of millennia, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t ancillary faiths. The largest one is quite widespread, the faith of the Outer Divine. When Camelot was teleported into Avalon, they brought with them humanity and their cultures. Namely, a faith surrounding a powerful holy relic of a god from beyond Avalon.

You’re not a fan of them. Their church in the center of Camelot radiates holy energy, making it uncomfortable to get too close to.

The old faith is something different. Maybe it came with humanity. Maybe it’s native to Avalon. It could even be from some other plane, like the youkai of Reeds and Spider Island. It involves communicating with spirits to borrow their power. Instead of devoting yourself to one powerful patron, you work with many weaker patrons. You can respect that.

Unfortunately, the Church does not. Because in their eyes, soul magics as simple as spirit communication is too close to necromancy. In your opinion, that is the peak of foolishness.

They aren’t allowed to act directly against the old faith. That didn’t stop them from taking less obvious routes. Typical oppressive tactics: higher barriers for entry, making natural spaces within the city into public gardens, setting up anti-spirit wards everywhere.

To close your faith off to forms of magic you fear, magics you don’t understand is exposing yourself to weakness.

“How does druidcraft work?”

“Oh my goodness! Really?” The demure harpy is gone, in her place in an excited young woman eager to share. That’s a quick turnaround. “We’re going to have so much fun! We’ll talk to trees, and bunnies, and cougars, and wolves! This is going to be great!”

She leaps over to you and tries to embrace you in downy wings. Let the former naked harpy hug you and risk breaking your cover? No thanks. You rear a sharp talon up and she stops short. You knew you’d regret this.

“Personal space.” You growl.

“Oh, um…sorry.” She blushes. “It’s just…People are usually creeped out when I talk about this stuff!”

“Look at me.” You wave your wings to present yourself. “I’m already creepy.”

“Nooooooo…” She averts her eyes.

“Just explain the basics to me.”

Druidcraft is tricky. Unlike most other magics, it depends on the locale. A druid is only as powerful as the quality and quantity of their friends in a specific biome. Animals, plants, spirits need to be befriended by doing little tasks for them. Moving nests, clearing invasive fungi, healing broken bones and branches. You help them, and they remember. When you call upon them, they help you…so long as you’re close enough. If you spend most of your life caring for a particular grove and have to move, you’ve just lost all your power. The really powerful druids are the ones that can make deep friendships quickly.

You suspect you’re not suited for druidcraft.

“Most important is communication. Try to extend your spirit and consciousness to an animal to let them know you mean no harm.”

You focus on the image of your soul. You’ve tried to grasp the concept since Quinn showed off her skills in soulcraft, but neither you nor the others have gotten closer to even sensing souls. Then again, that doesn’t mean you need to control souls to shift your consciousness…You concentrate your gaze on a squirrel on a nearby tree branch. A familiar sensation takes hold but you push it back.

You’re not hypnotizing it. You’re trying to communicate.

The squirrel twitches its ears and keeps eating its nut. You push your consciousness further on the stupid rodent and will it to listen. No dice.

Aggravated, your powers flare up and your will slams full force into the creature.

<LISTEN TO ME>

The squirrel tips out of the tree and falls on its head. You wince internally and Fracti gasps. The harpy rushes over to the squirrel and sighs sadly, shaking her head. She clasps the claws of her wings together in a prayer and tree roots dig through the soil to make hole, where she lays the squirrel to rest.

“You’ve got a very strong will, Wednesday.” Fracti buries the squirrel. “I’m sorry you had to discover it that way. Something similar happened to me when I started, and it took me months to build up the courage to try again.”

You stop yourself from raising an eyebrow. Why does she care so much about a small mammal? It was just a rodent. A dumb animal that should have paid attention. Fracti sighs and gives you the side eye.

“It’s okay if you think I’m weird. Even my fellow druids think I get too emotional about what’s supposed to be a transactional relationship. But…every life is small. Limited. Yet each is rich and fulfilling in their own ways. Their lives have importance. Their deaths have importance. The network that balances all these creatures together makes them more than just individuals.”

As she talks, you feel her words affecting you. You can understand her. You almost take a step back when you realize her consciousness envelops your own in a bubble of empathy. You’re stupefied. Her deluded kindness is not a weakness, but a strength. You have no doubt that if she wanted to, the entire forest could be hers.

She just respects it enough to not take it. You get the feeling the forest knows this. And it is more willing to work for her in turn. Her genuine empathy is the strongest tool for a druid.

April has the natural skill to sense emotions, but Fracti’s ability is on a whole other level. It’s like a bubble of emotional awareness. Of encompassing, practically oppressive, kindness. She’s a light in the dark, a shelter in the storm, a—

What was that? Was she affecting your mind? That’s…intimidating.

You refuse to let yourself be led around on some psychic leash. You need to get good.

“I see.”

“You do, don’t you.” Fracti smiles sadly. “Better than most, even. The druids said those like me have ‘fluttery souls’. Makes us sensitive, but we can do…things.”

You don’t know much about how souls work. Probably more than most, what Quinn has taught you. What you do know is that it’s illegal because simple soul magic is the basis for necromancy. And more advanced soul magic can change the very basis of someone’s personality.

This quiet harpy’s weird soul makes her a druid of sufficient skill to get a scholarship at the greatest magic university in the world. And you wonder…what are the depths of her power?

“Things like what?”

Her gentle smile irks you.

Fracti takes you deeper into the forest, to a field of flowers. Normally, you’d run into a few monsters by the time you get this far away from Camelot. Fracti’s presence must be pushing them away.

The next few hours are among the longest you’ve had to endure. Fracti spends most of it frolicking in the field, whispering to trees and small animals. This ray of sunshine cuts into your mojo. You’re about to give up and fly away when she waves a wing, and a gale blows through the field, twirling around you several times before disappearing.

A spirit.

Powerful druids do more than commune with animals and trees, but the spirits that live in a biome. Wind spirits, water spirits, earth spirits, fire spirits…

“There are also more esoteric spirits. They’re a lot harder for me to sense.” Fracti explains. “Theoretically, a spirit can cast any spell for whatever thing they embody. The hard part is finding it. Well, for me. I’m told they’re a lot harder to make your friend.”

“Are there spirits that could give you trouble?”

“Of course.” Despite Fracti’s smile, a pulse of fear radiates from her. “Some spirits will only ever commune with one person. Others are so powerful and so ancient, they can’t be convinced to do anything.”

“A bit like the difference between moving a pebble or moving a boulder.” You nod and commit this information to memory. “It comes down to a sort of magical momentum.”

“Exactly!” Fracti beams. “The best example would be the lava titan rampaging in the New Continent. Once roused, ancient spirits like titans and behemoths will keep rampaging for years, sometimes decades! It would take something as strong as a dragon to stop them, and even then, it’s not guaranteed.”

Fracti looks into the sky, watching the invisible spirit with admiration. Her expression sours somewhat.

“They’re not the most dangerous spirits, though. Ancient spirits follow patterns. They can be predicted, sometimes even guided. The esoteric spirits I mentioned…they could embody anything. Once, I felt a very powerful one, sleeping under a hill. I was younger, still exploring my…talents. I thought it was some sort of earth spirit.”

Before her emotional blanket shrinks back inside her body, you can sense her terror. And shame.

Looks like this ray of sunshine has a streak of darkness.

“Anyways,” she changes the subject, “Ritual magic has a strong basis in spirit magic. It’s basically a request for magical beings to do something in exchange for energy.”

That certainly explains why your ritual circles don’t do jack. You grace Fracti with the smallest upturn of your lips. Fracti moves her long strawberry-blonde hair away from her face and returns a big smile.

Ugh. Give her an inch and she takes a mile.

Something crashes out of the bushes. It’s not a Shiba Inu kobold, but a giant, rust-red wolf galloping directly towards you. It’s long black claws tear through the ground, grinning maw filled with teeth like knives. You’re about to cast a spell when it stops a few feet away and cocks its head…before standing up.

It’s not a giant wolf. It’s a kobold. An eight-plus foot tall amazonian wolf-woman. Chiseled musculature and broad shoulders poke through torn clothing. Her blue eyes focus on you, and you need all your willpower to stop your knees from trembling.

“Wednesday!” Her voice is gravelly, but the nauseating peppiness is familiar.

So are those blue eyes.

“Cherry.” You relax. Somewhat.

Not that your face has changed at all.

Cherry’s big fluffy tail wags in a stark contrast to her current form. Her body is a sleek machine of death, rippling with muscle and covered in blood. She pulls two mangled bodies from her shoulders and drop them on the ground with a wet smack. Fracti looks a bit green, but she seems used to it.

“I found two stags!” Cherry declares.

“I see that, Cherry.” Fracti says gently. “Didn’t I say you didn’t need to hunt for me? We have easy access to food in Camelot.”

“Teehee! Sorry!” Cherry sticks out her tongue in a way that would be cute if she were her plump, five-foot-six self. “Old habits die hard, y’know!”

“It’s okay. Just make sure you eat everything so nothing goes to waste, okay?”

Eat everything? Cherry looks like she could bench-press a redwood. She’s been eating enough! You don’t say anything, though. Your gaze is fixed on Cherry as she tears into the meat like a beast possessed. Watching this hulking monster eat makes you…a bit aroused.

They focus on you. Your heart hammers in your chest.

Cherry sniffs the air. Fracti looks around you, eyes tracking the unseen.

“Hmmm…Are you okay, Wednesday? You smell kinda funny.” Cherry asks.

“I’m fine.” You suck in a cold breath, willing yourself to keep your cool.

You don’t like this. Not the huge, sexy kobold, not the fact that she could smell your pheromones, and especially not the way Fracti is staring at you.

“What?” You growl.

“It’s really strange.” She says in a breathy whisper. “I’ve never seen so many shadow spirits stick so close to anybody…”

“They probably like broody people. Don’t worry about it.”

You’re not one for the inelegant, forceful hypnosis your siblings use. And yet, trapped between these two women that almost seem designed to sniff out demons, you feel the need to flex your abilities. Especially since you don’t know the limits of their powers.

This is going to be a long mission.