Mage Wall – The split between worlds (Breast/butt expansion story)

13. Old road



Air burning. Her gut satisfied. And finally with someone to talk to, Abigail didn't hide the smile that naturally crept onto her face. She didn't force down the waves of joy turning in her stomach. All she did was follow. Like a soldier she marched behind the couple - Nerus and Vivian - after they had packed up their things. Heading away from the camp and into the dark, where the light of the false sun didn't reach.

In it's place, they had a cage full of bright blue fulgur stones and the good sense to be optimistic. To smile, even in the face of overwhelming darkness, and laugh at whatever called this lightless land home.

At least, she did. 

The couple hadn't said much of anything after leaving camp. That, and they mostly kept to themselves - making sure to keep a distance of a few feet between them and her.

It wasn't something Abigail blamed them for. After all, they hardly knew her, and what they did know was that she was dangerous. Which, in her experience, wasn't usually a great way to make friends. Still, it was a lot better than having people actively seek her harm.

So until that changed, and they learned that she was essentially an enemy of their state, she was going to enjoy this. It was a promise. One that was immediately put to the test when the couple suddenly darted off ahead into the dark and disappeared behind a boulder.

It was a very big boulder, grey where the dust and dirt around it was a gold-ish brown. Solid too, as if it was a single piece that fell from the ceiling, or rose out of the ground, and she dashed over to it. Climbing atop it in a single leap and sliding down onto it's other side, where she found the couple hunched over the remains of a shattered carriage. The back of it strewn across the dirt, it's contents nowhere to be seen, save for a single chest that they struggled to open.

She watched as they scraped their fingers against the silver lock and it's engraving. A faded image of a lion with two tails and two heads held high, looking down at the couple. In the reflection of their eyes she could see the couples own, almost pleading with the lock. Begging it to open.

It did not. The lock remained steadfast, practically indestructible, a bastion against their every attempt to open it. 

Attempts that soon turned to colorfully worded screams directed at the chest, and as they got louder, Abigail came down from the boulder and walked up behind the couple.

"It's okay Nerus dear, I'm sure we'll get it open. Ooh, and we could just bring it back home. Open it up with some tools, maybe make a day out of it, hmm?"

"Vivian dear. While that'd be lovely, I don't think walking into the city with a Nobles missing chest would be a good idea."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

Abigail leaned over them, breasts swinging above their heads. "Maybe that's a sign that you shouldn't be trying to open it in the first place."

Nerus wheeled around toward her, looking surprised. "When did you... Nevermind. Do you think that you could open this for us, pretty please?"

Beside him, Vivian clapped. "Oh, what a brilliant idea my dear."

"Shouldn't I get a say?" Abigail asked, eyeing the box with a raised brow. "Especially if I'm going to be the one opening it?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way. After all who am I to order around a Blackguard? Though I would add, that if my wife and I are going to fashion you new clothes we do require the appropriate funds."

Abigail sighed. "Fine. But this doesn't seem right to me."

"Why's that miss?" Vivian asked.

"Cause a chest sitting out in the middle of nowhere next to a wrecked carriage missing all it's valuables screams trap to me."

The couple fell silent.

"But yeah, I'll open it for you."

Right then, seconds after she spoke, a wolfish howl descended from above. It was followed by another from behind, and more howls after that, each coming from somewhere Abigail couldn't see. Then, they fell silent all at once as an elf dressed in torn furs walked out from the shadows in front of them.

His eyes were red, his hair was ragged like a beast's, and in his left hand he held a spear that rose several heads above his own. It was an ornate piece of metal, it's shaft a twisting spire of bronze, leathery frills drooping out it's length, the blade a solid wedge of gold that looked as if the cold itself poured out from it.

Abigail's eyes followed the blade as he lifted it and pointed it at her. The tip no more than a few short inches away from her nose. Then he dragged it through the air and pointed it at the couple.

"Hi Nerus. I see you found my little present. Do you like it?"

"Sarill... It's, it's locked."

Sarill, as he was called, laughed. "I know. I locked it. Pretty funny."

Vivian stared at her husband. "Nerus dear, you know this man?"

He stared, almost a corpse, at his captor. "Yes dear. Yes I do."

Abigail took a deep breath, moved an inch forward, and stopped as the spear turned in her direction. "What's going on?"

"I'm afraid that's between me and Nerus, miss..."

"Abigail."

"Miss Abigail? Nice name, though not very traditional. How'd you get it? Parents. Friends. Stole it maybe?"

"What-"

"What do you mean you know him!" Vivian shrieked at her husband, eyes digging into the back of his head. "You said that you got a friendly tip from a fellow merchant. Not a bandit."

"...Vivian. I'm sorry, I didn't want to worry you-"

"Worry me! You didn't wanna worry me? Because you let yourself get tricked by bandits? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?"

Nerus turned, tears pouring from his eyes, as he looked straight at his wife. "It was the only option I had."

She stared back, finger thudding against his chest. "No it wasn't! You could have done anything else! Anything."

"Like what? Ask my nonexistent partners?"

"Your father offered-"

"No. You know I would never."

Sarill clapped. "Alright lovebirds, I think that's enough. While I'm sure everybody was enjoying the show, I've got things to do."

Abigail kicked. His spear came down like lightning. A flash that deflected the blow, and sent her tumbling back into the dirt. And the dirt was where she stayed. Not for long. Just long enough to catch her breath and stare. Up at the man, the elf, who stood tall staring back at her, his eyes red.

"Leave her." Was all he said. 

His men, dressed like true scoundrels, moved. They grabbed the couple. Nerus first, then Vivian, and then they left, jumping into the night, like grasshoppers singing a wordless song.

All Abigail could do was watch, from where she lay. A miserable place on the ground, that left her feeling helpless even when she could move. And she didn't. Because she knew that it wouldn't change anything. She was outnumbered as much as she was outskilled.

For many that was reason enough to give up. To lay there and cry. For Abigail it was reason to stand, minutes after the bandits had left. It was reason to find her courage. That spark within that demanded she go on. The very same that sent her chasing after Esbern. An anchor of resolve that put strength again in her legs. That fueled her as she tracked the Ardin lingering in the air, flittering about like rays of invisible light.

She tracked those rays through the dark. Past boulders, and roads, and monsters hiding in the shadows. Through dust raining down. The dirt rising into clouds that reached for the sky. She tracked it as far as she could, all the way to an old fortress.

From atop a ridge she could see it, half submerged into the floor of the cavern. Another relic in the ground. And inside, on its walls, and at its gate were her bandits. 

They stood as sentries and vultures, eyes looking for prey. Abigail was tempted to indulge them. Her fists ached for the tempo of a proper fight. But the memory of the beating she received just an hour ago, tempered them.

She would have to do this slow. Cautious. Make a plan of action before running in for once.

And as she sat there, thinking, a new group of bandits arrived. 

They were five in total. All sat atop a carriage pulled by two - two spider looking things. Yellowish white, six legs, and ten eyes. Ugly things. What they lacked in looks, though, they clearly made up for in utility.

But could they carry one more?

Abigail slid down the ridge to find out. She creeped over rocks and dirt, in dry air, all the way to the back of the carriage. The whole time, her eyes were on the lookout to see if anyone spotted her.

They didn't, and she was free to slip in the back of the carriage. Which was thankfully empty. 

Of people at least. The space, big enough to fit two horses, was filled with what some might call loot. Everything from broken dishes, wood carvings, and pieces of furniture to fine pottery, and only a few of those looked like they might have any monetary value.

They would be her cover. A bed of mostly useless belongings thar she crawled beneath and hid. The massive pile hiding her as the carriage passed through the gate.

And like that, Abigail was in.


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