Chapter 139 - Mistakes Were Made

My head hurt, and I cursed the brightness of the sun that decided to assault my eyes. My mouth tasted like death, and every little sound of the waves outside felt like nails in my brain.

I wondered what misbegotten deity I had offended the day before, but that list was likely to be very long.

It took me a few moments, but I realized I was feeling a hangover. A hangover unlike any I had felt before, but a hangover nonetheless. I attempted to sit up, but found that the gravity of the bed was much too strong to fight.

The bed felt strange. Very strange. I opened my eyes a bit wider, hoping to finally confront the aftermath of the evening, and saw Eira's sleeping face, drooling and a bit flushed. Good, she was safe; she was with me. Her hair was a nightmare. I wanted to laugh, but a stinging pain in my head stopped me.

There was a bit of a problem. I could distinctly feel someone curled up behind me. A very cozy someone, breathing softly. I ran a half-awake mental tally.

I have one girlfriend. She is in bed with me. She is in front of me, sleeping. Ok, that much checks out so far.

But if she was in front of me, who was curled up behind me?

I turned slowly to look over my shoulder and saw a mass of grey and white feathers wrapped around me. I searched my fragmented memories but, for the life of me, could not remember how this could have happened. My addled head then began running down a list of possibilities of what kind of horrible nonsense I could have gotten up to.

I did not care for any of them.

"Oh gods above and below, please do not tell me I did what I think I did." I groaned.

"You did not. I made sure of it." Another voice said in the room. It was familiar, feminine. Older? Maybe?

I leaned up just enough to look over Eira's sleeping form. I swore softly as I saw Roshia, one of Eira's mothers, glaring at us over a pair of reading glasses.

"Uh...thank you? Where are we, and why are we?" I said stupidly. Gods above and below, I hate how my brain and mouth refuse to cooperate after a night of drinking.

"Shhhh, Alta, you're too loud. The sun is angry at me, and it hates me." Eira groaned, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me back into the bed.

"Eira, sweetie, I think we should get up." I felt a rising panic in me.

"Hmm? Why? What's going on? Why is there a giant chicken in the bed?" She mumbled, looking deeply confused as she released me and sat up.

"Chicken? Where? I'll fight it! I hate chickens!" The familiar head of Nene popped up like a shot and immediately grabbed her head in pain. "Why? Why has my head betrayed me?"

I winced at her declaration, causing me to let out a pained groan, which then caused Eira to wince and likewise groan. A lovely little chain reaction of suffering.

"Are you three quite done feeling sorry for yourselves?" Roshia said flatly, before sipping a mug of something steaming in the cool morning air. Somehow it smelled both amazing and stomach-churning. Oh, I felt awful.

"Mother Roshia? Why are you in our bedroom? And no one has explained the chicken to me yet." Eira looked around and grumbled to herself unintelligibly for a few moments.

She then blinked a few times. Looked at me. Looked at Nene. Looked at her mother. Her eyes widened as her hungover bleariness washed away like dust in the rain. I knew that look. That look was the rapid dawning of horrified realization of what was going on, with a little garnish of half-formed memories of the night previous.

"Oh gods above, below, sideways, and diagonal, what the hells did we do?!" She groaned, burying her head in her hands. "Please don't tell me we...with Nene?"

"I hope not. I'm not into ladies. Or guys. I like bread though. Bread is good. I want bread. Is there bread?" Nene slurred looking around like she was absolutely lost. "I don't want that chicken to steal my bread."

"You three ladies perhaps got a little carried away during your party last night. I don't blame you; I did much the same at your age." The matronly elf said, arching an eyebrow at us. "However, you did go a bit further than I would recommend at such times."

She had a tone of smug superiority that I was ill-equipped to tolerate this morning, but I wasn't so brain-fogged and stupid as to make a point of it. I like living, and I didn't want to take my chances.

"What exactly does carried away mean?" I said, getting up, noting that my swimsuit had been replaced by a large nightshirt. And nothing underneath. Gods, this was shameful. Also, my arse itched something fierce. That would have to wait.

"You and Eira joined the celebration party of the surfer cults, proceeded to drink more rum than I've ever seen someone your size pack away. You then tried to learn how to surf. Lost your clothes somewhere in the sea; I still cannot fathom how that happened, and then I lost track of you for a bit. I found you two with this harpy a few hours later dancing on the rocks like fools." She said with increasing irritation at us as she recounted the evening.

"Sorry, ma'am," I said softly, bowing my head.

"Sorry, Mother." Eira did likewise.

"I regret nothing!" Declared Nene loudly, a sound we all winced at.

"That said, why were you following us?" I asked, curious and suspicious.

Roshia looked hard at me for a moment, before her expression softened. The kind of softening that one sees in the face of a parent about to lecture a particularly foolish child. I may have seen that look a few times in my youth.

"I was at the party too, as I had won a bit of money betting on the contest, and your fathers and the queen were busy, so I felt like letting loose for a bit. And I saw you two. And I saw how heavily you two were drinking. And I had heard the reports of what happened yesterday, and decided to keep tabs on you lot, just in case you decided to do something completely idiotic." She said with a deep, deep sigh.

The memories started trickling back into my head, and it all seemed to check out. Gods below, my arse itched though, like crazy. Stung a bit too. It was maddening!

"You three should clean yourselves up. I wish to speak with Alta after you make yourselves fed and presentable." Roshia said as she stood from her seat. "And do not worry, I am not angry or disappointed. I'm more glad you finally felt relaxed enough to unwind on our island. I do question your taste in swimwear, but I'm not one to judge."

She shook her head, and her expression cracked into a smile before she left.

The room was quiet for a moment as we continued to sit on the bed in confusion about what to do next.

I looked around, not really wanting to make eye contact with anyone at that exact moment. I wasn't a person with much of sense of shame, you have to shed some of it in my business, but I was sure as all the hells below feeling it today.

I realized that we were in our original beach hut. And as luck would have it, some clothes had been brought for us. Which turned out to be a good thing.

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I looked at Eira, who was in a matching nightshirt, which was far too short for her, revealing that she had indeed lost her swimsuit at some point.

Nene, however, was naked as, well, a bird. She didn't seem particularly bothered by this, and to be fair, feathers provided more modesty covering than I would have expected.

I tossed her a top anyway. Some kind of bandeau, as I figured her wings would make a regular blouse tricky. I quickly picked out some underclothes plus a simple blouse and trousers from the clothing that was provided, so I could feel at least some semblance of modesty.

"So, Nene. Why were you at a party? I figured you'd be a bit wary around those after everything that happened a few days ago?" Eira asked.

"I saw you two there, and decided that if you were there, it would probably be safe. I don't know. I was feeling impulsive, and needed to unwind, I guess? I didn't even think about it. My parents used to say I wasn't very good at thinking ahead. They also say they have no idea how I remember spells with such a wind skull on me." She said with a shrug, which she managed to do with both shoulders and wings. It was an interesting bit of body language.

That said, I had no idea what she was talking about at the end there.

"Wind skull? Do you mean Airhead?" I asked after a few moments of pondering.

"Right! Right! That's the Mortal Common word! Thank you!" She laughed and put on the top I had given her. "I'm pretty good at Mortal Common, but some words are weird. Heads aren't full of air, they're full of brains. Silly."

I shook my head, amused, and started to get dressed. As I was about to put some bottoms on, I noticed a pain in my lower back. Oddly, it was also right where that damned itch was.

I reached back to touch it, and it was tender to the touch.

"Eira? Is there something on my back? It's really tender. I think I might have got a cut or something. Itches like a devil too." I said a bit concerned, holding back the urge to scratch it.

Eira turned to look as I angled my backside to her. She was quiet for a moment and muttered something under her breath, followed by a snort and then uproarious laughter, which caused me to remember my headache with a wince. She laughed until she was doubled over and having trouble catching her breath.

"What? What is it? Eira, stop laughing and tell me!" I was getting a bit annoyed at the over-the-top reaction. What could possibly make her laugh so much? And why is her laughing making it itch more?!

"Beloved, please, just take a look in the mirror." She said, sitting on the edge of the bed, chortling.

I groaned with irritation, but didn't feel like fighting this morning. So I stowed by building ire with Eira, and went to the mirror near the wash basin, turning my body so I could look at the mirror to see my reflection. This is not a comfortable pose to attempt, but I managed.

There was something just over my buttocks. I couldn't quite make out what it was, but it almost looked like words.

They were words. Gods above and below, they were words. Very well written, nearly calligraphy words, in a gold color, outlined in black. Were it on parchment, it would be a very dignified script.

However, it was on my arse, which ran completely counter to any concepts of dignity.

I could tell they were runic, old elvish perhaps, but I had no idea what they said, as I couldn't get a good look, and they were reversed in the mirror anyway.

It suddenly dawned on me that I had a tattoo. On my arse. I had an arse tattoo.

I sighed. A deep exhale that threatened to allow my soul to escape. My final descent into degeneracy was complete. I had been kicked out of my house, found a girlfriend, and got a tattoo on my arse. Amazing. Wonderful.

It itched even worse. As if to spite me.

"What does it say, Eira? I can't read it." I said with exasperation. I really wished I had paid more attention when studying runes. Most things used dwarvish, or one of a dozen magic runic scripts. Almost no one bothered enchanting in elvish.

Eira had finally calmed down and took a breath before letting out one final giggle.

"It's old elvish, and if my translation is right, it says 'National Treasure' on it. Right over your cute tushy. It's cute! Very refined." She made an amused snort, then started giggling again before starting to get dressed.

I turned to glare at her with my best 'angry girlfriend' glare I could muster when something caught my eye that brought a wicked smile to my face.

"It seems I'm not the only one with a decorated bottom." I couldn't help but snicker vindictively. It was my turn to be amused! Ha!

"Oh, gods. What is it? Please don't tell me it's something embarrassing." She sighed.

"It's also in runes. Hold on, let me write it down." I said, and grabbed a piece of paper and carefully copied them down.

I held the paper up to Eira, and she stared at it for a moment.

"Treasurer. But in the context of being a high-ranking one. Royal treasurer, I guess, is the closest I can think of." She said seriously.

"Awwww you think my arse is a treasure!" I said with a snicker before devolving into laughter.

"Why you!" And Eira pushed me onto the bed with a vicious tickling attack that was unprovoked and unwarranted, I swear! I was the victim of tickling-based war crimes!

Eventually we settled down and realized Nene was staring at us like we were insane. I realized that given we were half dressed, tickling each other, and giggling like crazy people, her perception was completely understandable.

"You Kingdom folk are silly. Fun silly though!" The harpy chirped at us with a giggle and a smile, before finishing securing her outfit and heading outside.

It was just the two of us for a moment, with Eira having me pinned to the bed. Any other morning, and this would be kind of hot, but that would have to wait.

Eira sighed, and then laughed before getting off of me. "Well, I guess we can't say this trip was uneventful!"

"True enough. True enough." I said as I worked my way off the bed.

We continued getting dressed, but I changed from the trousers to a skirt, as the waistband was making the tattoo itch even more. We emerged into the sunlight, an action I nearly instantly regretted, and basked in the growing warmth of the morning.

Nene went her own way, waving to us as she decided to fly to wherever she was heading. It was an awkward takeoff, but she eventually evened out. She was a good harpy. I hoped her time at Dungeon School would be favorable for her.

The sky clouded over a bit, giving us a bit of reprieve from the wicked sun, for which I was thankful. If I knew which god was in charge of that, I would have praised them. Oh well. Their loss.

We found our way to the dining hall, which was thankfully not as busy as usual. I imagined we were far from the only people dealing with a hangover and regrets over their life choices from the evening previous.

"Does your tattoo not itch? It is driving me crazy! It's taking a ridiculous amount of willpower to keep from scratching it." I said through gritted teeth.

"No. You might just be having a reaction to the ink." She reached over and hovered her hand over the small of my back. "Yeah, it's probably the ink. It feels enchanted."

"They can enchant tattoos? With what? How?" I asked, suddenly curious.

"I don't know what or how, but I heard it's an ink mixture that prevents healing magic from removing it. Doesn't bother most people, but it does happen in elves. Specifically Burgotovan elves, for some reason." She shrugged.

"Is that why most Burgotovans don't get tattoos? I always heard it was some religious thing, but I never cared. I wasn't allowed to get one." A lot of things about my homeland made sense now that I thought about it.

"Yeah, probably. Don't worry, from what I remember, it passes after a day or so. Now let's get something to eat, I'm so hungry I might eat my own arm off." She whined as we entered the dining area proper, pulling me along with my hand in hers.

As we were going to grab something from the very well-appointed buffet and fill up on blessed coffee, we were stopped by a woman in a green and black outfit, a pendant of the pirate hourglass on it.

"Ma'am, please do not stop me; I need coffee, or I will bite people," I stated plainly.

"My apologies, but you've been invited to dine with Madam Roshia and Mister Renard this morning. If you two would please follow me." She said with a slight bow. Her accent was one I couldn't quite place, but she was definitely human. I think. Her eyes had yellow irises with slit pupils, which is definitely not something I was used to seeing in humans. I also couldn't help but notice tattoos peeking out from the hem of her clothes.

I was curious, but didn't feel like pursuing the line of thought. I was completely taken out of the line of thinking by Eira gently nudging me.

"I normally hate to suggest this, but we should go, Alta. We've gotten approval from Papa Gerno and Mama Artemisia, so we should take this opportunity to get both of them at the same time. They're going to get us at some point, so might as well go now and get this over with."

"I thought Renard liked me?" I said, a bit confused. Our meeting seemed to go well enough on the docks, though it was admittedly incredibly informal.

"He likes you. But liking you and approving of you are very different things in his mind. You'll see." She cleared her throat as she faced the attendant. "Lead on. We shall accept the invitation."

I didn't care for formality right now. I was hungry, craving coffee, and hungry as a dragon in heat. I assume that meant very hungry. I had no idea what a dragon was like in heat. Were dragons even real?

Keep it together, Alta.

"Very well. This way, please." The pirate woman bowed again and directed us to follow behind her.

One day I would likely get used to the way Eira's family did things, but it was not this day. I just wanted to get this over with, so I could get to relaxing.

We made our way past the dining area, and I couldn't help myself from whimpering as we passed by some amazing smelling foods. This had better be worth it.

Another thing I noticed was that the mood of the other resort guests was odd. Strained, I suppose. A sort of nervous tension, like everyone was waiting for something terrible to happen. I didn't like it at all. It felt like we were in the calm before some kind of deeply awful storm.

Even though Eira said it wasn't our problem, I knew that things that aren't my problem had a bad habit of becoming my problem.

It was problematic to say the least.

The attendant stopped before a pair of doors and softly knocked.

"Come in." The all-too-familiar voice of Roshia said commandingly.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself for an entirely different kind of battle altogether.