Shifter - Infinite Transformation-Chapter 22: Fae

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Long emerald hair, pulled back into a neat ponytail, cascaded down her back. Petals and small roots were intertwined with her hair, keeping it combed. Bright golden eyes locked with mine, highlighted further by small freckles sprinkled across her otherwise flawless cheeks.

She had long legs that drew my attention more than once as she shifted on her feet. The woman was thin yet voluptuous in all the right places, a dress of vines, flowers, and bark clinging to her without restraining her movement.

My eyes roamed over her even as heat rose to my ears and cheeks.

There was no doubt about it; she was gorgeous. But she did not look as mature as I had expected. There was still something youthful about her complexion. She couldn’t be much older than I was.

And she wasn’t human. Just as I had suspected.

Thin pieces of bark clung to her cheeks. They marked her neck in some areas as well, resembling a second layer of skin. Yet it didn’t look strange. If anything, it made her more beautiful. So did the root-like horns jutting from her forehead. They were a short pair of horns, but they were marvelous. Mythical. Just like the emerald shimmer that seemed to spread throughout her almost translucent, fair skin.

Last but not least, she had a... tail? A tail covered in green fur.

What in the Netherworld are you? I nearly blurted it out loud. Fortunately, I regained my composure at the last moment.

The smell of something burned caught my attention. The meat looked fine, but–

"Your tail!"

I shot to my feet and arrived beside her in an instant. My hand was already around the waterskin’s neck, ready to drench her tail, when she spun around.

She turned into a blur and emerged to my left, the skewer’s pointed end pressed against my neck.

"You wanted to attack me!" she hissed, looking confused and... disappointed? Maybe even hurt.

"Y-Your... tail!" I groaned, even if that meant the skewer’s tip drew blood.

Hesitant, she followed my gaze and noticed the tip of her tail was scorched. It was only a few hairs, and her rapid spin had already extinguished the flame, but it was enough to clear the misunderstanding. Or so I hoped.

"Oh," she murmured, her eyes drifting to the waterskin in my hand. "I thought... you know..."

"You thought I waited for you to reveal yourself, for you to lower your guard because I offered you food, just so I could attack you?" I asked, eyebrows narrowing.

She nodded slowly, unable to meet my eyes. Her cheeks were beet red.

"Honestly, I get it." I chuckled lightly, rubbing my neck where I’d been poked. "Except for the part where you’re obviously a lot stronger than I am. Even if I wanted to, which I do not, I doubt I could kill you. As far as I’m concerned, I’m just happy to be alive. That I smell good enough for you to spare me."

She regarded me for a moment, her lips parting into a small, hesitant smile when my stomach growled. That was my cue to die of embarrassment. Still, the interruption broke the ice, which was more than I could have hoped for.

"Sorry. I feel like I’ve been starving for the last few days." I smiled wryly. "I’m Xavier, by the way."

"You said that already." She chuckled, the sound like a choir of angels to my ears. "My name is Fern."

With that, she handed me one of the skewers.

"Thank you. But please don’t poke me anymore," I teased, which only seemed to fluster Fern. Her blush, which had receded earlier, returned even more intensely.

"I was just trying to... I thought..." she fumbled, then halted when her eyes met mine. Fern must have noticed my wide smile, because she turned away with a quiet ’hmpf!’ and started nibbling on her own skewer. She didn’t disappear into the bushes after that, though she didn’t say much either. She savored the meat, a faint smile playing on her lips.

As strange as it was, she was good company. Fern didn’t speak much, but it was fun to tease her. And honestly? I was just glad not to be alone. Being stranded in an unknown forest was terrifying.

"We’re in the forest between the Forea Alliance and the Zetrian Empire, right?"

Fern turned to me, juice running down the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips nonchalantly, and the way she moved did things to me. It was almost as if her mere existence bewitched me. That sea of liquid gold swirling in her eyes bore into me so intently, like I was the only thing that mattered to her right now.

So many more questions had filled my mind before, but now it was all blank as our eyes met again.

"You don’t know where we are?" she tilted her head.

I shook my head. "I have a guess, but I can’t be sure. I know my destination, roughly, and I never really wanted to go there, to be honest."

There was no real thought behind my words. I was rambling at this point, yet Fern listened. She listened intently, didn’t interrupt me once, and only spoke when she was sure I was done.

"You confuse me, human," she murmured, her cheeks reddening as she added, "Or... Xavier? Can I call you Xavier?"

"I don’t mind," I answered, which only deepened her blush. "Honestly, I’d love it if you called me Xavier. Or Xav. Or whatever you like most. Can I call you by your name as well, Fern?"

Names carried great meaning for some races. Dwarves were one of them. They didn’t mind being called by their names. If anything, they disliked it when you didn’t. Mispronouncing one, on the other hand, was far worse. Or so Mother told us when she read to us as children.

I had yet to meet a dwarf to confirm that, but judging by her reaction, Fern’s name clearly held importance.

Her entire face was red, and even the emerald-like veins beneath her skin seemed to shift slightly.

"O-of... of course. If I can call you by your name, then you should too," she said, still uncertain, but she nodded nonetheless.

"Thank you, Fern." I offered her the best smile I could muster. "And thank you for helping me over the last few days. I don’t know how I would’ve survived without you. I owe you greatly."

She shuddered the first time I said her name, but a small smile slowly crossed her lips as I continued.

"I have to thank you," Fern replied, dipping into a faint bow. "And you’re right. We are in the Forea Alliance. In Eserian, the forest bordering to the Destroyers. The empire, as you call it. But how do you not know that?"

How did I not know?

The answer was simple. Explaining it, however, wasn’t.

So I told Fern what had happened to me.