An Alchemist’s Love

Fae Mischief

Genavie and Cleo beelined for the mansion upon collecting the remaining ingredients. It was interesting, now that Cleo's semi formal business attire was reduced to shreds, her armour seemed to have worn down as well. Her attitude was more light hearted, and they had begun to joke about what had just transpired. At one point, Cleo even re-enacted her facial expressions of horror and disgust as the crabs attacked her, and they both burst out laughing. However, the closer they approached to the mansion, the more Cleo returned to her usual cold self.

When they entered the mansion, there was no one to be seen. They had all gone to the basement to begin experimenting or preparing the apparatus they would need when Cleo and Genavie returned with the ingredients. The basement was accessed by a hidden door behind a bookshelf opposite to where the sofas were. There was a fingerprint scanner disguised as part of the third shelf up (at a height that younger daughters could still reach) that would be invisible to an onlooker as it blended in with the wood. Genavie scanned her finger and the book case slide to one side, revealing an alcove with a staircase spiralling down. The staircase was dull compared to the rest of the house. It was made of chunky wood blocks with no ornamentation. As they descended around twenty steps, the tight alcove opened up into a massive cavern. The cavern floor was visible 20 feet below, expanding at least two football fields in size. The walls were kept rough and natural, however the ceiling and floors had been polished into smooth granite. The area was lit by four massive chandeliers that each covered a quadrant of the rectangular basement. The chandeliers were designed like large glass bubbles with hundreds of small lights sparkling within. The air in this room was warmer, with a faint smell of sulphur that came from a natural spring that bubbled in the centre of the cave. The other Daughters of Vern were surrounding a table near the bottom of the spiral staircase. By the time that Genavie reached the bottom of the steps, she was a bit dizzy.

"That took you longer then expected." Sasipha said, tilting her head curiously as she regarded Cleo's disheveled appearence.

"We got what you asked for, and more!" Genavie said, pulling out the jar with the fae inside.

Everyone crowded in at the mention of the fae to get a better look.

"Let me see that!" Said one of your younger girls, running over and snatching it out of Genavie's hands.

"Yo, watch it!" Genavie scolded.

Sasipha, in one deft motion snatched the jar back from the girl and pushed her out of the way. "Learn better manners Megan."

Genavie smiled, Sasipha was such a mother hen, even though she was only a year older then Genavie.

"Alright," Sasipha handed the jar back to Genavie, "let's get those ingredients and start finishing this lab. I have a date tomorrow and I will be damned if I am stuck in this cave with you ladoes. No offense but not my idea of a good date night."

Genavie handed the ingredients over, "do you need me for anything else?"

"Not for now, but Cleo, would you mind helping us with the distillation of the hemlock. I know you make the most potent essential oils."

Cleo nodded, happy to wear a lab coat to cover her tattered outfit.

"Alright, I will be bonding with this fae while you guys are working then!" Genavie said, walking toward the hot spring in the center of the cave. She sat down by the pools edge and dipped her feet into the warm water. Instant relief washed over her as she felt the water's healing attributes.

Fae were not sentient beings, the same way that humans and animals were. They existed as pure energy that was absorbed over time. The reason fae were hard to come by is because they normally required a minimum of 100 years of energy to form a fae seed. Fae seeds then spent a few more years blossoming before releasing the adult fae to the wild. From then on fae never died. No experiments had come to a conclusive answer as to where the fae developed their personalities, but the current popular belief is that they absorbed the energy of those around them and then reflected those personalities in their actions and behaviours. The only grey area in this theory was that it did not explain why, more often then not, the fae were scoundrels and pranksters.

One element of the fae that was unique was that, when bonded with, alchemists can share their memories. Daughters of Vern, when consuming certain potions, we're able to meld minds with the fae and live their past. Genavie had a home brew concoction that she had created that was so potent she could sense temperature, touch, even scent, during these journeys into the fae's past. Genavie stood up and walked to a locker half the distance back to the staircase. It was a small locker unit that partitioned two large work desks. Inside she had around ten shelves filled with potions, labelled and neatly organised. It was the one area that was always kept clean. She reached in and pulled out a small bottle with a dropper, and returned to the hot spring. She decided to take two drops (rather than her usual three drops) so that the senses would be slightly muted. The flavour was not pleasant, like eating licorice and moss, but immediately her body felt lighter, and she had a certain sense of detachment to her physical form. She reached over to the jar and placed her hand against the glass - she closed her eyes, and as she had practiced since a young age, cleared her mind to allow the fae and herself to merge and share their memories. One thing to note about the bonding process is that every time an alchemist bonds with a fae, the fae also has the opportunity to explore the alchemist's memories.

Navigating the memories of a fae was like swimming in a river with extremely strong currents. Fighting in the opposite direction was often futile, but you could manage controlling your general direction downstream. Genavie always enjoyed starting at the older memories centuries before and rarely bothered navigating to a desired time frame. She allowed the fae to guide her to one of the deeper recesses of its mind.

Genavie arrived in a meadow, where a cottage with a peculiar roof stood nestled beside a large oak tree.

"Teresa, come back here!" She heard a deep and husky voice call from across the meadow.

"For the last time Lynk, there is no point going back to Silvertown. Your father is a stubborn man who will not be swayed. You must know this deep down, he is a beast. Unable of seeing beyond his own prejudice and rage."

Genavie felt like she was watching a historic romance.

The fae suddenly started drifting toward the direction of the voices. The back of a woman came into view, and then gradually the man became visible, facing the woman. His face was cloudy and brooding.

The man was not Genavie's type, per say, but he was built like a Spartan. Even with Genavie's muted senses she could feel the warmth in the air. The man, who she presumed was Lynk, was wearing a quilt of sorts, and nothing else. He was dripping with sweat and seemed to be in the midst of removing a boulder from a mearby flower bed. His body glistened with sweat from the physical exertion and the heat. From this angle, the tip of a brutal scars wrapped around his rib cage and down towards his pelvis. He was not only muscled like a warrior but had battle wounds to show for it.

The fae was drifting to the back of the woman, Teresa, who's strong energy was attracting the fae. Then, with a sudden lurch, the fae was pulled into the body of Teresa. This was a rare phenomenon that only happened when supernaturally strong souls were nearby. When the energy of an individual was so overpowering, their were records of the fae forcefully being merged with an alchemist. This was referred to as forced mergence. Whoever this "Teresa" was, Genavie knew she was not someone you wanted to piss off.

As the memory of the fae merged with Teresa, so did Genavie. It was her first time experiencing it, but essentially it felt like she was sharing the same skin as the person in her memory. The feeling of sweat dripping down the nape of her neck, the comfortable frock tight along her breasts but breezing about her thighs. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, strand of hair clinging to her cheeks and temples. Genavie did not only feel the physical elements of the memory, but she was also filled with a sudden wave of anger, disappointment and confusion.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn Lynk? There is nothing for us there." It was a strange sensation for Genavie to feel herself speaking, but without control over what she was saying or doing.

Lynk wiped his hands on his quilt, the action causing it to be pulled down exposing a prominent v-line. Teresa's eyes drifted abdomin and pelvis. Genavie also had no control over what she could see. It was becoming uncomfortable.

"Teresa," Lynk said, his voice now a softer tone, but still rough, "it's no longer just us." He walked over and placed his hand across Teresa's stomach. His hands were warm, even through the frock. They felt powerful and rough.

He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, he was only a few inches taller then Teresa, his lips sending a warmth through Teresa that calmed some of the anger boiling within.

His hand slid from her stomach around to the curve of her back. Teresa, and Genavie, shivered in response, Teresa's muscle memory sending sparks of pleasure through her body. Lynk gradually pulled Teresa close to his own body, firmly pressing into her back, making her curve up to look him in the eyes. His eyes still reflected a darkness within him, but now a different kind of desire shone in his eyes. He leaned in slowly, allowing his breath to blow across her lips, and for her lips to part in anticipation. Then in one smooth motion, he consumed her. His lips pressed up against her own, his tongue reaching deeper then Genavie was expecting, making her mouth full. He pulled back and Teresa pushed back, her own desires beginning to surface.

As Teresa kissed back, Lynk wrapped a second arm around her, bringing them closer together then Genavie thought was possible. With this motion, she could feel Lynk's groin pulse against her thigh. It gave off a warmth stronger then his palms and Genavie knew exactly where this was going.

"s**t, s**t!" Genavie thought to herself.

Lynk was now leaning backwards, pulling Teresa slightly off her feet, one hand holding her in place, while the other hand caressed the curve of her back down to her ass.

"Time to bail." Genavie thought to herself. Her physical form was in the middle of a cavern with the other Daughters of Vern. The last thing she wanted to do was relive an intimate moment while sharing the body of one of the lovers.

Severing the memory sharing with the fae was not an immediate process, it required a calm mind and a certain level of detachment.

Genavie struggled for a moment, mentally distancing herself from what she was currently feeling. She imagined herself being pulled out of Teresa's body by invisible hands. She felt her body and mind stretch, and with a snapping sensation, bolted upright returning to the cold floor od the tavern and the hot spring bubbling at her feet. Looking around, she could see that none of the other daughters noticed what had transpired. That being said, her legs felt like jelly, shaking with excitement at what had just transpired.