The one cupboard in the dorm was a shared space, where both he and Lyra could keep snacks, drinks, and potions. He found, as he opened the cupboard door, that Lyra had not stored anything on the shelves here since she moved in the day before. Another difference!
The Lyra he knew had stuffed it so full, there was barely any space left for his only two items. An enchanted bag of tea and a porcelain teapot. The shelf looked a bit sad and empty, but at least the most important items were still there.
Evren took them both out and placed each one reverently on the counter.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Lyra sit down on his chair. Her hair was still a mess and her eyes were downcast. The figure of a defeated woman.
He didn’t have the heart to chase her out of his spot. Instead, he turned to her and smiled.
“Fill this pot with water.”
“Water…?”
“Yes, summon some water. Use the bathtub.”
She wrinkled her nose, perplexed, but didn’t argue. She just rose from the chair, whisked across the room, and accepted the pot from his extended hand. Her fingers touched his, briefly.
Evren’s eyes followed her as she exited the room. Despite all the changes, she moved just as elegantly as she always had.
What was he going to do with her? This was Lyra! Still thinking about her, Evren untied the knot holding the teabag shut and peered inside.
Of course he saw nothing.
He reached into the enchanted bag and felt around inside. There was a reason this bag was his most valuable position. The space inside the bag wasn’t a space at all. It was the countertop of his mother’s kitchen back in Kiltervale.
Right now, if his mother was standing in her kitchen, she would see a hand reaching out from a hole in the wall and feeling around for a pile of dried tea leaves nearby.
He pulled a handful of leaves from the bag and dropped them into a little wire box enclosed by a fine metal mesh. The fresh, earthy smell brought back memories of home. It had only been a few days since he’d last seen his parents, but he missed them so much…
This world was really screwed up.
Wait a minute. If all the girls at the Academy were acting like guys now, did that mean his mother was acting like that, too? Was it his father’s kitchen he was raiding for tea leaves?
The thought made Evren pause. He hoped to the Twelve that his family was untouched by this weirdness. His father was such a manly caster. He couldn’t imagine if he turned into a delicate prince like so many of the guys he’d seen earlier that day.
He was still lost in thought when Lyra returned.
The teapot was so full that it was slopping on the floor, but he hardly noticed. Somehow, her thin white blouse had gotten soaked, and as she placed the teapot carefully on the counter in front of him, Evren could not help but stare.
The wet material was plastered to her chest and had become nearly translucent. It clung to her curves. Her large dark nipples stood out, plain as day.
“I can see everything…”
“Huh… Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly.
She pulled the wet material away from her skin, fanning it in front of her.
“I guess I need more practice with summoning water.”
“Mmmm…” he agreed.
Though he tried to act like it was no big deal, in his mind he called this a happy accident. There were many benefits to the morals of this world. The fact that he could look at her chest as much as he wanted and she wouldn’t call him a pervert. That was fantastic.
Wait… Maybe he was a pervert!
He held the teapot full of water up to nose and sniffed.
“We need to remove the impurities,” he said, holding the pot in front of her. The back of his hand stuck to her wet shirt, and he held it there.
“Clean it, please.”
She looked up at him. They were breaking the body contact rule, but it was he that initiated it. She looked down at the place where his hand held the teapot, solid and unmoving, pressed against her plush body. She looked like she was trying to assess the situation.
“Okay,” she said softly, pushing closer to him. Invading his space with his tacit permission. “I’ll cast the spell.”
Her chest was cool to the touch. The spot where her hard nipples were poking against him made his hand tingle. A small smile bloomed on her face, then she started to cast.
Her hands moved in the complex series of gestures. She was amazing! Even more skilled than she’d been in his original world. The entire pot was purified on the first attempt.
“There! Did I do well?”
“Mmmm…” he hummed approvingly. His attention was still on the soft wetness pressed against him. “Now heat it up.”
She gave him a sulky expression. Maybe she had expected more praise for her clean spell, but then she launched right into a temper spell. Her hands twisted and gestured rapidly, simulating a rising flame.
It would take some time for her to raise the water to a boil, so Evren relaxed his body and reflected on this comforting situation.
This was a ritual they had performed together quite often in his other world. Except that there, it had been Evren casting basic spells while Lyra brewed the tea. He recalled how eager he’d been to win her approval. Was that what she was feeling now?
He watched the look on her face grow more intense. A bead of sweat ran down her brow. She was running through her mana pool too fast. She’d never had the best endurance, but to see her struggle so soon…
“I’m going to help you.”
He spoke quietly enough. He hoped she didn’t hear the desire in his voice.
She looked over at him, still gesturing. She was sweating profusely now, and a small puff of steam was finally rising from the teapot’s spout. Her huge eyes seem to be calling for help, but she didn’t say anything. Only nodded.
“I’m going to lend you some mana. It may feel strange the first time you experience it.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead he shifted the teapot to his left hand while he slid his right hand under the hem of her shirt. Her tummy was firm and flat. He inserted his finger into her belly button and began to cast.
“UNNUGH!”
Lyra was not ready for the shock of the mana conduit.
Her eyes and mouth opened wide and her back arched. Her entire body turned to jelly and she fell into him nearly knocking the teapot from his hand.
He could feel her thin body shaking against his. Was she crying or laughing? Concerned, he put the teapot gently down and wrapped his arms around her. After all, it had been the first time she received his mana…
* * * * * * * * *
Two cups of Eryndorian porcelain filled with piping-hot oolong tea sat on their laps. They were seated facing each other. Lyra was examining the cup intensely, looking anywhere but at Evren.
“I’m sorry, I over-reacted.”
“...It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not alright! If you’re going to be my warder, then I’ve got to get used to you buffing… my body.”
“It’s a lot to take in. Casting an intensive spell and receiving a ward at once. You’ll get used to it though.”
His words seemed to encourage her and she looked up at him. Her eyes were deep pools of wonder.
“It honestly felt… so good. Like a part of you went into me.”
He turned away, his face turning beet red. Why did she have to phrase it like that?
“I want to do it again!”
The look she gave him told him she was treating it like more than just a transfusion. More like him, inserting his thing into her... Uh oh. His body was heating up again. The tingling was back. This was getting dangerous! Evren took a deep breath and a soothing sip of tea.
“We’ll have time later. Now…” he paused, setting the tea aside and crossing his arms, “Tell me what happened at the dance.”
Lyra’s face took on a haunted look but, to her credit, she sat up straight and began to recount the night’s events in a clear manner.
It sounded like she'd rehearsed it.
She had met Dia and her friends early in the night, and the popular girls appeared very friendly at first. They offered to help her meet some of the junior boys, but they explained that first she needed to ask them to dance. Evren sat and listened, envisioning Lyra in her sexy leather outfit asking guys to dance. A spark of jealousy hit him and he cut roughly into her story.
“What were their names…?”
“Huh?”
“Rule number 5. You have to tell me which boys you talked to.”
“I don’t know!” she protested. The haunted look was growing worse. “They wouldn’t even tell me that much… Some of them ignored me, and the last two yelled at me!”
Evren had to stop himself from reaching over and comforting her. There were still things she hadn’t told him, and he had to remain strong.
“So, why did you get drunk then? You told me that Dia made you.”
She was sniffling, but masked it with a sip of tea. After a moment of silence, she kept going.
Dia had mocked her, saying she had no game with the boys, and that she would be punished for each rejection she got. So, each time a boy turned her down, she had to drink a tall glass of bubbly blue.
“And they were so mean… both the boys and the girls. The boys were calling me names, and then the girls were making me do strange things. Please believe me, last night was not my fault!”
Lyra’s eyes were locked on him now. Pleading eyes, begging for his understanding.
Evren couldn’t hold back any more. He leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on her upper arm. She was shaking a bit. Her eyes filled his vision.
“I believe you. And no, last night wasn’t your fault. Dia played a cruel prank on you. You were a victim!”
She smiled, like a beam of sunlight breaking through the clouds, her face was beautiful. Lyra sniffled. It really looked like she was about to cry.
Thank you, Evren… You’re the best partner a girl could ask for! Do you think… Can you maybe try filling me with your mana again?”