I've never really thought about my legacy. Why would I? Before a knife to the side changed my life, I didn't have a future to consider. I wa

I've never really thought about my legacy.

Why would I? Before a knife to the side changed my life, I didn't have a future to consider. I was convinced I'd pass away in a nameless corner of the kingdom, drunk enough to smile through my terrible luck and likely alone. Family? Nothing but burdens and unwanted expectations. Children? I never considered myself someone who should be raising the next generation and the process of making them came with a very unwanted caveat.

Well, I have to start thinking about it now. Rather, it dominates my thoughts as I take a morning walk, just one more shadow skulking about the city in the weak light of pre-dawn.

The people of Quest have been hard at work. As I slowly walk through the heart of the city, I notice there aren't as many crumbling buildings or hills of debris. Slowly but surely, the refugees are cleaning up the mess of their home. At this rate, it won't be long until they're ready to rebuild. Something I'll have to talk to someone about. It's my city now. I'm supposed to be making decisions like these, down to the placement of every building and road…

I slip out of the east gate but cut south, avoiding the camp. Several minutes from the city's walls, surrounded by nothing but grass, I drop to the ground and stare at the brightening sky, soaking in the silence. It's peaceful.

Somehow, Orum finds me. The first thing that gives away his presence is his shadow briefly obscuring the light; he's completely silent as he settles next to me, stretching out his legs as he chews a blade of grass. He's bare-chested as usual, letting me notice the deep scratches across his front and shoulders. The smells of blood and sex cling to him, still detectable under the soap he presumably scrubbed himself with.

Unwilling to break the peace, I don't comment, going back to watching the clouds. But I can only resist for so long. Besides that, unfinished business beckons, reminding me I can't mindlessly lay about forever.

"You're not going to heal those?" I ask.

He doesn't look at me as he responds. "Waste of mana. Little scrapes like these will heal on their own."

I take another glance at his wounds. A bit more than scrapes but what do I now? I can't even see a trace of discomfort in his expression.

"And if I heal them, the beast takes it as a challenge. The Atainna need blood the same as they need water and air. Best to give it to them."

…did he just refer to his wife as the beast? Actually, I understand. Completely.

"Do I get another sibling-in-law?" I ask with a smirk.

"Doubtful. Even with my magic, it raises the chances to unlikely to less than probable." Finally, he turns to me. "Something that should be the same for whatever you are, given what I've seen of you, but my daughter is special. And determined."

I shiver and shove away the memories of the last few days. They're…a lot. Heat. So much heat. Hot flesh. Hot breaths. Wet heat. Hard heat. A raging fire, fueled by passion, consuming reason. I held on valiantly for the first two nights, but by the third, I was as much of a mess as anyone. There was nothing beyond the pleasure. No refugees. No royal knights. No seers. No time. Love and comfort made appearances, but they mostly waited on the edges of consciousness, putting me back together just to be shattered again.

There lies an abyss, ready to swallow me at the first chance. A wonderful, terrible fate. There's a dark temptation there. Maybe, in the future, I can…but not now. Not when there are dragons to deal with.

"I suppose you're here to talk about your grandchild." I'm still wrapping my mind around that. I'm going to be a mother, eh. Father? Parent. The next generation of Tomes starts with me. A generation that will never know the oppression of the Grimoires. That'll always be a point in the positives column when I look back and judge my parenting. I don't want to think about the possible negatives. Or the questions. Like the biggest one: what is my child going to be? I'm an amalgam of different creatures. Is my child going to be the same blend? Maybe they'll come out more of one creature than another? There's a chance they'll come out as something completely unrecognizable.

And there's no telling how Kierra's blood is going to complicate matters. She's an elf but she's descended from Twilight matriarchs, madwomen who intentionally fucked anything they had a chance of breeding. Saints know what she has swimming in her blood pool. Our kid could come out with scales or horns or saints know what else.

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Saints gives us strength.

"No. We have time."

"How long?"

"Hm. A normal pregnancy lasts three and a half years but this will be anything but ordinary I believe."

I gape at him. Three years?

I almost feel guilty at the surge of relief in my chest. But then it's doused as I remember the rest of his words. This is going to be anything but ordinary.

"I came to check on you." His frown his severe but his dark green eyes are full of concern. "Few are unchanged by a matriarch breeding them."

I turn from him, face hot. Does he have to say it like that? Ugh. So awkward. "I'm fine." If I don't dwell on the memories for long. Or look at a bed. Or Kierra. Or…

Okay. Maybe not completely fine. But everyone has trouble focusing around the love of their life, I'm sure. At least a little bit.

"When a matriarch is preparing to breed, she secretes—"

"For the love of the saints!" I exclaim, resisting the childish urge to cover my ears. "Why?"

"It's important."

Sigh. "Fine," I groan, accepting my fate.

He clears his throat like a dozen lecturers before him. "As I was saying, a matriarch secretes multiple substances both to facilitate breeding and control her mate."

"…I don't need you to explain sex to me."

He huffs. "This is separate from that. There are three secretions. The first is a stimulant in her, ah, lubrication." He slightly stumbles over his last word, letting me know this is somewhat uncomfortable for him as well. "It seeps into the skin and increases blood flow to the area. This ensures the mate can become erect and stays so longer."

I really don't want to have this conversation. But since we are… "You keep saying matriarch, as if they're a different species. It's just a title…right?"

The look he gives me is a cross between amusement and pity. "There is no creature quite like a matriarch. Truly, each of them is a species onto themselves but it would be far too much work to separate them as such. That is why their family name is used instead."

"Then are we just talking about the Atainna or matriarchs in general?"

"I've gained this knowledge from my wife, but she tells me that they hold true for most bloodlines, their effectiveness meaning they were replicated in some way or another across the clans."

"Alright. This, uh, second thing?"

"A scent. A warning to other matriarchs. Like many predators, the matriarch becomes extremely aggressive when she is ready to breed. They are a violent creature, but their highest priority is ensuring their bloodline continues. As such, they are capable of reason and will try to settle their grievances through words first. However, if there is one action that is guaranteed to start a war, it is attacking a matriarch during a breeding period. She is at her most vulnerable, but it is an action that goes against their most sacred belief. If someone interrupts a matriarch during breeding, she will annihilate them to the last. Most choose not to."

Or if they do, they better not miss.

"The third secretion is a hallucinogenic compound in their saliva—"

Wait, WHAT?

"WHAT?!" I exclaim, thoughts leaking out.

"It's only a mild—"

"Seriously, hold on." I sit up, raising my palm. "What do you mean a hallucinogenic?"

"It is a substance that interferes with normal cognitive function—"

"I know what it is," I hiss, offended. "I'm asking why in the Abyss does she have drugs in her spit?" Hard drugs at that. If it was an aphrodisiac, I wouldn't have been the tiniest bit surprised, but this goes further than getting someone going.

My heart thumps as his eyes narrow, the glare reminding me that he is one of the few beings around me that can give my supposed immortality a proper test. But the next instant, his expression relaxes as he sighs. "I think you are misunderstanding. It's nothing harmful. Rather, it is very good. The substance induces strong feelings of euphoria and distorts a person's perceptions, heightening them but narrowing them to their immediate surroundings. The effect is a sense of euphoria focused on the matriarch."

"But…" I suppose it doesn't sound like the worst thing in the world. Yet, it doesn't sound completely harmless either. I suppose I'm worse. My fluids could be used in some dastardly ways. I'd never, but the possibility exists. At the very least, no human will be able to compare. I did that on purpose. I want my lovers to crave me. To know no other will ever be my equal. In a way, that's chaining them to me, just like Kierra's little surprise.

"Does she know?" I ask. That's the one part I'm clear on. Whatever she can and can't do, it would have been nice to know about it before today.

"Hm. I'm unsure if Morgene talked to her about it. By her request, I have left all Atainna matters to her. There was a chance Kierra would not inherit it, being three generations removed from the last practicing matriarch."

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. "Well, she definitely has it." That explains my funny memories. And perhaps the strange feelings thinking back on them invokes. My wife is a literal drug. Saints. Again, now that the shock has passed, not a surprise.

"Mm. I will make sure her mother speaks with her. But we are here for you."

"Well, does any of that stuff have nasty effects?"

"Nothing physical. Mentally, they have profound effects. Many a creature have become addicted to matriarchs, though the substances have no addictive qualities. It is simply impossible to find an experience that compares."

"I'm not concerned about becoming addicted to Kii." That bird has already taken flight and traveled a great distance.

"Still, you should speak with my daughter. A frank discussion about her instincts and what they will mean going forward. As well as the challenges of raising a child of Atainna blood."

I hum in agreement. We trail off into silence and, this time, it lingers. That's fine. Watching the odd cloud drift past is amusement enough for the time being.

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