The avilem, which Niala had named Violet and decided was a girl, had been keyed to Niala's mana signature, activated and marched down to their basement.

  Leaving something worth a few hundred princes in plain sight was just asking for trouble.

  Another week passed. Linzy's idea had taken off; the premium potions were a hit, with the adventurers and more well-off Riverwall citizens more than willing to pay the higher price; some for the added benefits, others for bragging rights.

  Still, the stream of clients remained a trickle, with at most thirty people showing up on the busiest of days. When asked, Linzy had explained to Niala that this was normal, even desirable; they were positioning themselves as a boutique, not a shop. Somewhere you went for better-quality goods. Linzy had pointed out that this meant Niala's workload would be kept light, not needing to brew hundreds of potions every day to refill their stock.

  All very logical, and she had to admit, from a mercantile point of view, very desirable, but the catkin couldn't help but feel guilty at pricing her potions out of the range of those who might need them the most.

  That night, she brought the topic up with David as they lay in bed, snuggled up to him while he stroked her head.

  He listened as she explained what troubled her, and, of course, it was her too-big heart that bled for the downtrodden. He hugged his little saint tightly and suggested that she could always donate basic potions to the local healer, stipulating that they were to be used for those the town considered poor or who had limited means. If Linzy complained, she just had to remind her who was the boss.

  Niala buried her face into David's chest, rubbing her cheeks against his firm pectorals, before straddling him and telling him he was the best and that it was an amazing idea. She let him know just how happy she was in the purest, most physical way she could.

  They were now in early Autumn, with the days beginning to shorten, and colder weather would arrive within a few weeks. This far up north, late Autumn might have well been early Winter, as the town experienced early snowfalls every year.

  David and Niala were thus furnishing the greenhouse, installing planters on tables and shelves, hanging pots, and figuring out which plants to bring in and in which quantities.

  Niala yelped as a streak of colour flew past her and into the greenhouse through the open door, before promptly smashing into one of the glass panes and falling to the ground in a flurry of feathers.

  The small honey-and-blue bird got back to its leg, puzzled as to what had just happened, before it launched up and attempted to be on its way, only to fly into another glass pane.

  Fearing for its health if it kept ramming its little head into the hard glass, Niala rushed for it, hands outstretched, sweet-talking for it to calm down and that everything would be alright.

  David watched the scene from outside, expecting the bird to panic and flee from the well-meaning giant charging at it.

  Instead, the bird stopped, turned toward Niala, its head twitching as little birds do, and simply... waited.

  The catkin's hands closed upon it, holding the little creature as if it were a water bubble that would pop at the slightest touch. She brought it outside and opened her hands.

  The small bird sat upon Niala's hand, focusing on her, as if asking what was next.

  She whispered to it. “It's ok now. You can go. I'll put some streamers on the windows to keep you little guys from flying into the greenhouse.”

  Given permission, the bird flew away, Niala's overjoyed gaze following its ascent.

  David frowned; Had the bird just knocked itself silly?

  Niala, after watching the little angel fly away, spun towards David, her eyebrows lowered in worry. “David! We need t-”

  “Streamers, got it. I guess we can wedge some cloth strips between the glass and the armature...” He proposed.

  She shook her head. “No need! I'm going to go brew a glue! You go get some of the old clothes in Jasmund's chest in the basement and make strips. It's a priority!”

  And then she was gone, disappearing into her brewing room.

  He shrugged and went to do as asked.

  All the while, he couldn't shake off a sense of dreadful familiarity.

  A few days later saw David at Hodge's door, knocking on it. The old man answered after a few moments, eyeing his visitor up and down.

  “Do I know you? You look like a familiar blur.”

  “Hello, Hodge, it's David, the courier.”

  Hodge grinned. “Oh oh! The hunky boy! Well, what can old Hodge do for you?” He leaned in, conspiratorially, “Do you want to have another go at my pile?”

  Shivers ran down David's arms. “No! I mean, no. I wanted to talk to Windy. She around?”

  “Ah, boy, you break my old, rotted heart. Yeah, I think she's around.” The old man turned his head and shouted. “WINDY! YOU THERE?”

  From deeper in Hodge's house, a stormy voice shouted back. “MY NAME IS ANAAKENDI, YOU SENILE REFUSE!”

  Hodge turned back to David, smiling. “Yeah, she's there. Come in, boy, she's probably in the solarium. For some reason, she got into her mind that she needed a tan, of all things.” The old man rambled as he led David toward the back of his house. “I mean, have you seen her skin? White like porcelain. She'd sooner burn than get a tan, although I guess that could pass for a tan... Ah, here she is!”

  Hodge brought him to a living room with large windows, which let a surprising amount of sun in. Anaakendi was sitting on a sofa, legs crossed, reading an old tome.

  She glanced up at the visitor, her lips drawing into a scowl when she recognized David.

  “You.” She said, tone flat.

  “Me.” He confirmed.

  They jousted each other with their stares.

  Hodge sighed and clapped his hands. “Right! Hateful stares are fine, but no fighting, or you're getting a time-out in the pile. Boy, just walk back the way you came when you're done. Windy?” He narrowed his eyes at Annakendi. “Be nice, or you're giving me another foot massage.” He turned back and left.

  She and David both shuddered, their enmity overridden by the horrendous mental image of hairy, warty feet laid bare before them.

  She grunted before speaking. “What do you want?”

  He reined in his ire. “I need to talk to you about your power to influence people's minds.”

  That got him an arched eyebrow. “Oh? Do you need someone enthralled? I could do it, but my price will be exquisitely high.”

  He shook his head. “No. I need to know if it can be passed on, somehow.”

  She frowned and clamped her tome shut, depositing it on the table next to her, before turning her full attention to David.

  “That is a peculiar question.” She said, leaning back into her sofa.

  “And a simple one. Yes or no?”

  She let her gaze linger on him, attempting to glean some sort of hint on the source of his inquiry.

  The man projected a stony facade, but she had seen inside enough humanoids to know how much the smallest of details would point to deeper concerns, and he was no exception.

  He was... forceful. He wanted an answer; it was important for him, not just a passing fancy. At the same time, he was focused; the issue on his mind was external, not something that muddled his inner thoughts.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  He was asking because there was someone important to him who was involved. Her eyes narrowed; from what she knew of him, there was one person he had risked his life for, multiple times, and who had risked their life back for him.

  The catkin girl.

  And if he was asking if her enthrallment could be passed on... Had she displayed signs of it? If so, what could it be? It was her power, true, but foremost, it was part of her, of her very being, as an incarnation.

  She thought back to their first encounter, how she was about to have the girl manifest her will upon the altar, and he pulsed his mana, saturating her pathways, forcefully expelling Anaakendi from within...

  Her eyes widened for an instant. Back then, she had been expelled from the girl. It had been abrupt, forced, jagged.

  She had felt ripped out of her vessel. Could that have been more than just a feeling? Could she have left behind a veneer of her being?

  But still, that would mean nothing, unless the person was able to impart their will upon the natural world, and only...

  “Your catkin friend is a weaver.” Anaakendi declared.

  A crack on the man's facade. She smirked in victory.

  He denied it, of course. “I'm not asking for guesses; I want to know if your power can be passed on.”

  Anaakendi chuckled as she rose, uncreasing her dress and walking up to the man.

  “Anaakendi does not guess, child. Bring me to her. I will assuage your fears.”

  “I'm not scared.”

  She huffed. “Ah, petulant child. You cannot lie to Anaakendi. Go, I will follow.”

  He remained unmoving.

  She grunted. “Child, you have garnered my interest. I am offering you my help. Take a gift when it is offered.”

  With a pointed brow, he turned and led her out, back to Niala.

  The old woman yelled at Hodge on her way out, letting him know she was departing. He yelled back, saying he didn't care, but that dinner was at seventh bell, so be there or starve.

  Glancing back, David thought that he might have seen what could have been a slight uptick on a corner of Anaakendi's mouth.

  Were they... actually getting along?

  He shuddered, cursing at his mind for the images it had brought up.

  Niala, think about Niala, not old, naked peo- Bleeding pits!

  Niala, ears flat, stared at the old foreign woman sitting across from her.

  Anaakendi returned a lazy gaze at the catkin, unimpressed.

  His girlfriend turned her head to him. “Tell me why, one more time?”

  He sighed. “You might have inherited part of her power. I know it sounds stupid.”

  Niala's tail shuffled, as her brows softened. “If you're afraid of something, it's not stupid. I'm just having a hard time understanding.”

  “It's th-”

  Anaakendi scoffed, interrupting him. “Please, this is unnecessary and a waste of time. Simply allow me to hold your hand, so I can infuse a small part of myself into your pathways and confirm my suspicions. At worst, it will be nothing, and I will be gone.”

  “And at best, you'll take control over her again?” David shot at her.

  “Child, that is quite probably the stupidest thing anyone has ever said to me. Why, pray tell, would I need to enthrall anyone?” Anaakendi rolled her eyes.

  David crossed his arms, levelling his gaze at her. “I can't be asked to know what an incarnation thinks.”

  The old woman huffed and turned up her nose.

  Niala looked at the pouting woman before turning her attention back to David. “You think I should do it? What if I actually did get her power? Have I been mind-controlling people?” Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh no! Have I been mind-controlling you?! David, I-!”

  He walked up to her and grabbed her into a tight hug, stopping whatever words had yet to leave her mouth.

  “Not possible, and even if you did, I'm fine with it, because I've loved you since before that whole event. I just hadn't realized that I did yet.”

  He felt the muscles in her back relax somewhat. He unclasped his arms from her and stood aside, nodding, as she smiled back.

  She turned to Anaakendi, who had been observing the scene from the corner of her eyes, feigning disinterest.

  “Ok, you can do it. I'd like to know if there's something... wrong with me.” Niala said, taking a deep breath. “What do I do? Do we just... shake hands?”

  Anaakendi rose and approached Niala. “Yes, that is all we do.” She said, holding out her hand.

  Niala grasped it gingerly, and she sucked a breath through her teeth, cold washing over her insides, as if her blood had been replaced with frigid waters.

  Anaakendi's eyes shone like a thunderous tempest, staring straight into Niala's being, her hand like a steel vice.

  Just as the feeling of drowning in a frozen lake threatened to overcome her, Anaakendi's hand released its grip.

  Niala pulled her hand back to her chest, covering it with her arm, pushing some warmth back into it. She glared up at the incarnation, who was...

  Looking at Niala, wild-eyed, mouth agape, her hair floating as if buoyed by a strong gust of wind.

  David stepped in front of his girlfriend, hands balled into fists, glowing blue.

  Anaakendi's stare rose up to David's face, which seemed to shock her out of her trance, as she reasserted control over her features, acting as if nothing had happened.

  “Yes, well. I see. Girl, you have indeed inherited a minor part of my enthrallment ability.”

  The words jolted Niala as she stepped beside David, panic settling into her eyes. “What?! But- But that means I might make peo-”

  “Stop, girl. You cannot influence humanoid minds; the power is much too weak for that.” Anaakendi explained, before mumbling. “At least, not yet.”

  She composed herself, clasping her hands. “At most, your suggestions might take hold more easily. Simpler minds, such as those of animals, are probably within your means if you wish for it strongly enough.”

  Niala's mind spun a thousand thoughts a second, as her questions all vied for control of her mouth. Nothing came out.

  Anaakendi sighed. “Girl, you are thinking about this too much. Rest your mind, let your thoughts settle, and come see me again. We can take the time to answer your questions then.”

  She turned to David. “And you. Don't come with her. I do not need someone to glare daggers at me while I try to help a scared girl.”

  David scoffed. “A scared girl that you tried to have kill herself.”

  “For the good of the city! I am not some heartless monster!” Anaakendi defended, a hand to her chest.

  David remained silent, his fists still glowing blue.

  The old woman harrumphed and stepped off, leaving out the back door and into the courtyard, where she disappeared in a gust of grey winds, leaving twirling leaves in her wake.

  David went back upstairs to Niala, pulling her into a hug. She rested her head against his chest, ears flopping down.

  Her voice was tiny. “David, I don't like this. I don't want to influence people's minds.”

  He smiled, leaning his head on top of hers. “Of course you don't, love. You've much too good a heart for that.”

  “But what if I do it without realizing?”

  “Hmm, if you can't get rid of it, then the best thing to do is to learn to control it.”

  “It's icky, I don't want to touch something like that.” She whimpered.

  “Then learn how to control it, and then put it in a cage, from which you'll never let it out.” He said, kissing the top of her head.

  It took her a while to come to a decision. “Ok. I'll do that... can we stay like this, for now?”

  He said nothing, simply holding her tight, for as long as she needed.

  Grey winds coalesced behind Hodge's home, forming in the shape of a woman, becoming denser until a sucking sound popped, and Anaakendi reformed.

  She was... unsettled.

  There was something very wrong with that catkin woman, Niala.

  When she'd sent a tiny sliver of her self through her pathways, exploring her system, she had felt something pulling at her. She'd dismissed it as a simple peculiarity; everyone had slight variations in their mana network after all.

  She had sent filaments to probe and had indeed found her own mana signature, but not in the way she was expecting.

  Instead of being a thin filament left behind, it had been integrated into the woman's pathways. It was now a part of her, just as it was a part of Anaakendi.

  That was not supposed to happen. Puzzled, she had investigated further when a twinge of tension prickled her. Alarmed, she had retraced her steps and witnessed a horrifying sight.

  Niala's pathways were devouring her essence.

  She ripped her tendrils away from the abomination, leaving behind the smallest of her self once again, as flashes of memory from the time at the chapel rushed back to her.

  When Anaakendi enthralled someone, the control was absolute. The person's mind was enveloped by her essence; nothing would come through unless she allowed for it.

  But, she remembered, Niala had turned her head towards David and shed a tear.

  At the time, she hadn't paid it any attention; the ritual was about to be completed, and then that meddlesome child had pulsed his mana and evicted Anaakendi from within the catkin.

  But now... she realized that she hadn't been in control of that movement.

  Niala's system had been eroding the envelope, had managed to push through and regain a sliver of dominion. It had done so by eating Anaakendi's essence.

  Niala was somehow a magivore. An aberration.

  And David's mana pulse, that feeling of being ripped away from the catkin? It was exactly that, a ripping, as the outer layer of her being that had begun fusing with Niala's system was left behind. If the boy hadn't done so... would Anaakendi have been trapped within?

  It was possible. She might have been moments away from ending her own existence when she sought to plunge that dagger into Niala's heart. It could have killed them both.

  She shuddered.

  Maybe she should... offer a modicum of recognition to the boy, for potentially saving her life.

  The irony... I can nearly taste it.

  abomination?