The island Kauai was pleasant.
It was called the Garden Island and Nathalia found that title appropriate. On the expanses of the extinguished volcano grew and thrived a multitude of plants. Heavy rainfall had carved canyons into the rock, giving the land a fascinating texture. Waterfalls ran over edges, joining into rivers of rainwater.
Under other circumstances, Nathalia would have dragged her mate towards one of those rivers and made love to him upon a flat stone by or in the water. Dancing atop his hips, gyrating with his cock inside, she would engrave the mont into her mory. Sex had not been the sa since she had learned to love. Even recalling her most debauched encounters before this harem felt dull in comparison. Dull and regretful. To her daughters, she would make clear that it was better not to be a slave to urges.
For her sons… Nathalia wasn’t yet sure how she would deal with having sons. That idea felt more complicated, for whatever reason.
‘Perhaps a Breeder Perk will allow to only have daughters?’ Nathalia considered. She did not raise the question at that mont for the sa reason she wasn’t having sex. Veridion’s slimy presence ruined any sort of intimacy.
They stood at the summit of the caldera and the edge of a truly massive Natural Barrier. It continued down into the depression below. “…Man, we really should let so Natural Barriers mature,” Lee muttered, her eyes scanning the environnt. Though she could no longer provide help in these trials, John had, wisely, decided to keep pulling her in for the trials themselves.
If Veridion pulled any tricks on them, they didn’t want to be caught without control of the barrier.
“If we let them mature for too long, a calamity cos out,” John reminded her.
“Yeah, but, like… there has to be a middle ground, right? Like there is a middle ground between wilderness and cutting down the entire forest.”
“Fair point,” John relented.
Nathalia listened to the conversation quietly. ‘I don’t feel the need to get involved,’ she thought, mildly surprised and pleased with herself. It hadn’t been too long ago that she would have both wanted to be the centre of attention and yet not cared for the opinions of the lesser mortals. The latter emotion was still strong, she maintained that most people were not worth listening to, but the forr had pleasantly faded.
“Your trial,” Veridion raised his voice once more. “The Trial of Nature. Great Molo’o, present it to the invaders.”
Molo’o was a regularly sized dragon. Like her kin, she was of an adorable gecko-adjacent shape. This variety of the greatest of all Abyssal races also ca in several elental alignnts. This ten-tre long Mo’o had hardened leaves instead of scales and horns of forking branches. Her eyes were of a sky blue. Though she was gecko-adjacent, she did have the capacity to blink.
“This man and his won, who take the trial in proper observance of the rites…” Molo’o’s voice was deep and ancient, the tone of a benevolent grandmother. A funny simile to make when she was likely less than a tenth of Nathalia’s age. Such youth could be excused, given her annoyance with Veridion. “…are to have one of their number move in accordance with the garden and face my judgent on the other side. It is on Veridion to choose who.”
“Nathalia,” the god of oaths declared without hesitation.
The goddess of volcanoes drew her shoulders back, stiffening up. She was left to stand there, thoughts swiped aside by wordless doubts, as Molo’o nodded and disappeared into the ground. They were foisting upon the Fla of Destruction the task of moving in unity with a forest?
“Hey, lady…” The hand of her mate was placed upon the small of her back. A reassuring warmth spread from the touch, seeping into her despite the layer of clothes she wore for propriety. “…don’t forget: I was right about you.”
Nathalia gazed into the brown eyes of her beloved. They were sturdy, like bedrock, and quieted the doubts in her mind. She tilted forwards, placing her forehead against his. She rembered when the presence of a third horn would have denied her this gesture. Just one of many changes he had inspired that were for the better.
Wordlessly, she pulled back. She hooked a finger under the collar of her shirt. The tal buttons popped open one after another, until she could free herself of these clothes. The rest of her garnts followed. All of them were handed to Aclysia and Nahoa, the maids standing ready to receive them imdiately.
In love, she was given the services that she once had needed to demand.
Scales of black clad her, though only so. She needed the cover over her nipples and womanhood, lest her extre Libido made the brush of the air an arousing experience. Though she now knew many who outclassed her in sensitivity, she remained a lustful being. Beyond that, the scales mostly covered her sides. Nathalia had never been one for covering herself. Though the sway of her unsupported breasts could be a bit botherso, she enjoyed the sensation of them jiggling around too much to confine them for any length of ti.
With that leisurely thought on her mind, Nathalia descended the slope.
The vegetation in the Natural Barrier grew in the scale of magic. Massive trees towered above, big enough that they could have been turned into torches to light half the island. A botherso wall of multi-coloured ferns marked the start of the true jungle. Sharp claws twitched. Desire to slice her way through rose and was forgotten.
The trial had given her no clear directive and so she moved without direction. She walked along the wall of ferns until she found a spot that she could cross with minimal disturbance. The back of her hand gently brushed aside those overhanging leaves that blocked sight of her next step. She had tended to the gardens and knew of the fragile state plants could exist in.
Within a few strides, the jungle swallowed her. The air trapped beneath the canopy was oppressively humid, covering her scales and body in a sheen of moisture. That warmth, she could appreciate. It reminded her of a steam vent near a volcanic chamber, though not quite as hot.
Aimlessly, she advanced. The jungle shifted around her. Tree roots rose to unsteady her step and branches lowered to make her bend. Though the obstruction wasn’t lost on her, Nathalia found the arrogant rage within her to be little more than a dim fire, isolated by a ring of patience. The Fla of Destruction would have scorched a black trench through the jungle for the slightest insults.
Nathalia was not that woman anymore.
To walk with haste was to invite errors. To walk slowly was to be deliberate. To be deliberate was to be with little to no error. To be with little to no error was to walk fast. ‘The mortals have a mantra for this, don't they?’ she wondered as she waited for a capricious root to settle back down. ‘Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.’
The jungle reacted to her patience by pulling away. At first, Nathalia understood it to be a sign that her adequacy had been seen. The creaking and bending of the younger trees that grew between the ancient trunks proved that to be a lie. Branches interwove, forming a cage above. The tunnel forwards was low to the ground, too low for her to even crouch.
Nature told her to get on her belly and crawl in the dirt, a worm rather than the proud wyrm she was. It would be as simple as spreading her wings and beating them once, to make her own path through the vegetation. Long before she beca a goddess, the dragoness would have indulged that idea. Broken branches and cut leaves would be left in her wake, that was the Nathalia of old.
She was not that woman anymore.
Once known as the most aggressive of all the dragons, the Fla of Destruction now inched forwards on elbows and knees. As she kept going, her blood ran a little warr. The irritation was rising, she admitted that much to herself. Though willing to dirty her claws in the soil, the act of crawling remained deaning.
Bits of plant fibre got stuck on her horns. She freed herself with a twist of her neck. Understanding she may have been, but she was not so changed that she would let grass bind her. She was the gardener, the mother of demigods, and weeds would know their place!
Nathalia erged on the other side of the tunnel, covered in dirt and grass stains. One of her ears twitched, picking up the sound of moving water. As there was no aim better than another, she followed it and found an idyllic scenery. The river fed into a pond, just a few tres across. Enough for her to wash herself in.
A creature neither bear nor lizard had the sa idea. Its bulky fra sat on the edge of the water, watching two cubs paddle around in its centre. Imdiately upon seeing Nathalia, the animal bellowed and moved in defence of its spawn. Each roar was a clear signal: leave my territory.
Nathalia was a woman that understood nature.
With a deep growl, rising in volu until magic saturated her vocal cords, she responded to the creature’s threats. What a strike of her claw would have solved within a split second, the growl solved after half a minute. No blood was shed and the animal retreated, its cubs in tow, leaving Nathalia to claim the water and clean herself.
Once she was content with the state of her scales, she resud her journey.
Acting on instinct, Nathalia swiped at a spot between the trees. Stone shattered from her sudden acceleration and the plants all around bent from the gust of her motion. Nothing was caught in her claws. The jungle shuddered, as if confused. Her burning gaze remained focused. What had made her move, she did not know. For the briefest of monts, she had simply felt… a threat.
It was gone now. Nathalia straightened up, letting her gaze wander over the nearby jungle one more ti. Then, she resud her walk.
Obstructions were few and far between now. Here and there, a giggling fairy decided to drop a nut on her head or a mischievous young tree elected to try to trip her again. By and large, however, she was allowed her walk. Following her impulses, she eventually arrived at a tree that had been gnawed at.
The bite marks were fresh, coming from a beaver or a similar bark-eating rodent. Though trees could withstand much, the tree before her was dood. A ring had been chewed around the entire trunk, ending the vital connection between leaves and roots. Within days, the tree would be dead forever. A mighty, ancient plant, dying due to the unwise actions of a rodent.
Even the woman Nathalia now was struggled for a mont with the decision of what to do next. Should she save this ancient plant from what had naturally occurred? Was that an intervention beyond what the trial intended? If so, she decided, she would ignore the trial like her beloved had the day before. Though the scales were extrely different, she would not bend to the whims of these tests.
Stepping forwards, Nathalia placed her hand across the gnawed rings. Her thumb and middle finger ford the bridge, her magic the dium. It was still new to her, this… gentle warmth that gave rather than consud. It andered through her, refusing to be hastened. All of that divine power within her and she had to concentrate to flex it so little.
Provided opportunity by her influence, the tree’s bark regrew. Green cells ford a carpet above the wood, then shielded itself with new, hardened fibres on the outside. What had been dood was given another chance. Though its end would have been natural, Nathalia did not care to leave it all to the will of nature. What grew from the ash of the world she burned was for her to decide.
That was the woman Nathalia was.
Walking past the tree, she suddenly found herself on a glade. Molo’o sat in the middle of it, her throne a wide open flower sprouting atop a boulder. The leaf-scaled dragon looked down upon the Fla of Destruction, her sky-blue eyes unreadable.
“I never respected you,” she said. “No matter how much Kihanarea gushed about your beauty and power, all I ever saw was a destroyer.”
“Then you saw correctly,” Nathalia stated and crossed her arms. “You can have that satisfaction. You have my utter agreent. With it cos a warning: I am giving myself enough pains by living up to the standards I have accepted. Strangers such as you should watch their tongues. I am tad, not broken.”
“Calling yourself tad?” Molo’o sounded intrigued and surprised. “The haughty Nathalia, considering herself kept?”
Flipping her hair back, standing tall, a hand on her hips and a smile on her red lips, the dragoness put it to a simple point. “The joy of being tad by a worthy mate outclasses any sha.”
“Interesting… but that has no bearing on whether or not you pass this trial.”
Nathalia froze up. The doubt crept back into the corners of her mind. She had acted in accordance with her nature, because she believed in John’s assessnt of her. Still, he had been wrong before and she-
“You pass,” Molo’o declared. “I judge you worthy. You have cleared the Nature Trial of Hawai’i.”
A relieved sigh escaped Nathalia. Before she knew it, she looked at her hand. Her fingers were slightly trembling.
“Are you this overwheld by this?” Molo’o asked.
“I have not been useful to people in ways that did not involve destroying things. Even in our shared business ventures, Scarlett wields as a cudgel… and I approve.” She shook her head, smiling. “It is reassuring to know that I can be useful in these simpler ways.” Nathalia looked upwards. The gap in the canopy was quite large. “May I take flight from here?”
“You may,” Molo’o responded.
Nathalia’s wings grew from her back in a swift ergence of obsidian, spreading their mbranes of liquid stone. One beat of her wings carried her into the sky, a second propelled her in the correct direction. Within a minute of taking to the air, she landed back where she had started. News of her victory must have been proclaid already, for she was greeted by the delightful kisses of a very excited air spirit.
Too many words cascaded from Sylph’s lips to hear them all. Nathalia just filed them under ‘complints’. What Salamander had to say was to the point and all the more pleasing to her ears. “Good job, Nathalia.”
“Acknowledging my greatness?” the haughty dragoness asked her fellow being of fire.
“I would have turned that jungle into a collection of matchsticks,” the fire spirit answered. “We got a view of what you were doing with magic and stuff, you know the drill. Serious patience, lady.”
Nathalia played over her rising blush by twirling a sidelock around her finger. The other harettes and John coalesced around her, giving her the genuine praise that nourished her soul without inflating her ego. What a wonder true love was.
Yet, she could not help but gloat as well.
“Your ploy to humiliate has brought you no success,” she called out to Veridion.
The dead god walking had already raised a hand to leave, stopping to glare at her. “You think this makes up for your cris? For the damage you have done to yourself? Your luck is that you found people of poor taste, to enjoy such used up goods as you.”
From other lips, that insult may have stung. From Veridion, they only made her smile. What judgent could he render that she cared about? “An enforcer of oaths, blind to justice and redemption,” she said. “You are a sad, single-noted existence. You lack what I now have.” She put her arms around John and Salamander, pulling them against her sides. “If you find it quickly, there might yet be hope for you.”
Among all of his allies, only Veridion left imdiately.
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