Chapter 7: Bizarre

—He's poor because he wants to be!— She argued, with a look that assured you she wasn't joking.

—Ehh? What nonsense is this?— Nemes replied, raising an eyebrow and furrowing his brow. After exchanging glances, they tacitly agreed to set that discussion aside. They had done so with many previous arguments.

Talking with Misra turned out to be surprisingly fun. Once she overcame her shyness and initial stuttering, she was surprisingly witty and charismatic. She... was clingy, if I could put it that way. I didn't know if it was because of her change in gender that Misra abused physical contact with her, or if that's just how women related.

In the long hours of dubious conversations, they had built a small and bizarre trust between them.

Nemes looked down at her abdomen. She couldn't see it. Two unfamiliar bulges blocked her view. —I still can't believe it...— she thought as she cupped one, occasionally touching them to confirm that they were indeed there and hadn't disappeared.

That earned her a raised eyebrow and a smile, more due to the randomness of the moment than anything else, from Misra, but she didn't say anything, just looked at her with intrigue.

She hadn't gotten used to her changes, and not just those of gender.

—I mean, having more weight in the chest and bigger buttocks wasn't a big survival problem. The "vampiric" changes are the most worrying ones—

She had gained great strength, yes. She also had surprisingly good night vision, but at what cost? Torchlight bothered her quite a bit; she didn't even want to imagine sunlight.

— And if the sun kills me? Like in vampire movies?— She imagined a life in the darkness of night; there wasn't much there that interested her. Aside from poor daytime vision and the danger of the sun, there was another problem.

—That problem—she thought, looking at Misra, who was looking out the carriage window, humming a sweet song and shaking her head. Seeing her heated her blood, causing her retractable fangs to grow, her eyes to dilate, and her mouth to salivate.

It was as if she had been starving for days and saw a huge hamburger with a sign that said "Eat me!" It was almost irresistible, and it didn't help that she seemed vulnerable. There were quite a few times she had fantasized about carrying it out.

...

Misra suddenly felt an intense gaze on her neck, turned her head to see her strange companion. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and every time she turned to see her, she was doing something strange.

When she turned, she saw Nemes staring at her with misty eyes, a flushed face, and rubbing her legs together in a strange manner. 'Poor thing, she must be sick,' she thought with pity.

—Lady Nemes, are you alright?— She said, approaching with little hops on the carriage seat. —You seem sick— Finally beside her, she leaned her forehead against Nemes', checking her temperature. —You're very hot! I'll call Sixtin—

When Nemes saw her approaching, she inwardly pleaded for her to stay away, and when their foreheads touched, she required all her willpower to push her away by the shoulders.

—No!— A shout escaped her, which she quickly corrected. —No, Your Highness. I'm fine, there's no need— She was initially surprised by the shove, remaining silent for a few seconds, but then chuckled softly.

—Nemes, can I just call you Nemes?— She asked, receiving a dazed nod in response. —You're very strange. You weren't surprised by my status nor do you seem to have the slightest respect for me— It sounded like a complaint, but she said it with a smile. The next moment she became nostalgic, almost sad. —I think you're the first person I've had a sincere conversation with in a long time— She said, looking at the horizon through the window, at the beautiful crescent moon.

—Thank you— She said thoughtfully, not meeting her eyes. —Thank you for not lying to me like everyone else— After saying that, she fell silent, seemingly deep in thought. Nemes didn't interrupt her meditation.

—Would you like to be my friend?— She suddenly asked. Nemes, in particular, had recovered from her hyper-stimulated state; seeing Misra sad seemed like a cold shower for her.

—Of course, Your Highness. I'd love to— She said sincerely with a smile. About five hours had passed on their journey, where they had talked about so many things and so many different topics, some superficial and some questionable. Misra's character had sincerely grown on her.

Maybe it was because she felt vulnerable. If someone helps you when you're vulnerable, it's normal to be more appreciative than usual. Maybe the new situation, her new body, and her new stimuli left her confused. Which made her more sincere in her thoughts and feelings. She could think of many reasons, but it was certain that she liked the girl.

—Don't call me Your Highness. Call me Misra!— She said in a demanding, somewhat capricious tone. The blonde elf with long hair looked at her intensely with her blue eyes, looking very serious.

—Won't that cause problems?—

—No!— She said without thinking, but quickly regretted it. With a softer tone, she continued —Well, maybe a few, but at least call me by my name in private, okay?— She said with puppy eyes; it sounded logical, so Nemes didn't think much and accepted it. What better than an ally in an unknown world?

—Alright...— She reluctantly agreed, but Misra kept looking at her intensely, so she continued the sentence —...Misra—

The smile she gave that night, in that moment under the faint light of the stars, was indescribable with common words...

...