Custody Battle - Tie Match

"Say your oath!" Darlae growled, her ears flicking back as some elven ears did when they were at their angriest.

Maledict smiled and stood strait, a curling of his tail brining the massive fleshy limb into the portal open behind him, like a foot holding a door open. He held a hand over the center of his chest, resting his palm upon it.

"I Maledict, Duke of Sha'arei, Lord of Heresy, swear on my being, and the existence of all who follow me, that I will take no action that will cause harm to..." He paused. "Err... I'm sorry, what were your names again?"

"Brigit Gale."

"Darlae Earonsheir Lavis Menaeon Calainn-Sidhe, Third of Her Name."

Kir stared. Darlae had never revealed her full name before. He would have facepalmed if he wasn't in so much pain, and sustaining his spell.

Maledict started over. When he got past Darlae's name, and to his credit he pronounced it perfectly where even Kir couldn't, he continued. "...and that I will take no indirect action that will lead to their harm. I swear upon a spell of Forbidding, that no agent of mine will be allowed to harm Kir, or his adopted and blood mothers. In return for this Oath, it is sworn that in ten years' time, I shall claim my son Kir, should he or you fail to bring his mother, Aelaes, Daughter of Heaven, and birth-mother to Kir, before me by his twenty-sixth birthday. Should a new contract be formed to replace this oath, I swear to uphold its tenets until his dying day. This is my oath!"

He withdrew his palm from his chest, and Kir saw that upon it were glowing circles and shapes. A container for the oath, just as for a spell.

His other hand he held out to Kir. "You are my witness Kir. If they accept, you will seal the oath by placing your hand over theirs." He lowered his glowing hand to within reach of Brigit and Darlae. "You will never find another offer like this, not in a thousand lifetimes," he said to them.

Together, they placed their palms against his. A silent acceptance.

Kir looked at them, seeing the determination in their eyes, and placed his hand over theirs.

A searing pain appeared in his hand, in all of their hands. It brought the three of them to tears, but no one screamed.

Maledict simply grunted as the spell circle disappeared into his palm, before appearing on his chest.

The same thing happened to Kir, and he touched the raised mark that looked and felt like a scar, but with heat inside it.

"We are bound, son. See you soon... Oh, and before I go, here is your hint: You have your mother's wings."

He turned, exiting the world through the portal, which closed behind him, leaving a charred line in the grass and a hint of sulfur.

His father's hint turned Kir's attention back to the throbbing pain in his back. He stepped away from his moms, turning and walking to the pond in front of the house, falling on his hands and knees on the shore as he sought his reflection.

As soon as he hit the mud, he felt something detach from his wings, but he ignored the sensation, his vision captivated by the sight of his wings and the nascent feathers growing from them quickly.

They were red. Not red with blood, red as blood.

A sinister red, he thought.

He let himself pass out.

In the darkness of a fitful sleep, Kir dreamed. He was naked, floating in darkness. Looking down, he saw his tail slip behind him, and the bulging muscles of his ideal chest, his ideal abs, and his limbs arrayed before him. He wondered why he would dream this, until he heard a voice.

"Hey kid. Looks like you're finally coming into your own."

The voice was strange, many-layered, but tending towards effeminate. Or perhaps it was neutral and he was simply coloring it with his expectations. As they spoke, his perception of the voice seemed to waver back and forth along gender lines.

"Just wanted to remind you of our bargain, and maybe tease you a little. You're going to attract a lot of attention, but that's the price of the potential you wanted... little godling."

"What bargain?" Kir asked. "I don't remember."

The voice giggled. Or was it a chuckle?

"Oh, you have the memory. It's just buried under a little baby amnesia. You'll figure out how to unbury it when the time comes."

"How?" Kir asked

"I'm sorry to say I can't do any more for you at this time... but once you're done dealing with your parental issues, we have much to talk about. Answer me this though, are you happy with the life you have now?"

Kir felt the answer in the smile on his face as he thought about the question. "I am... and I want to protect that happiness..." Then the rest of her words sank in... "Wait... you know about..."

"Sorry! Can't say more! Oh, what is it they said on Earth? Kaythanksbye!"

When next Kir woke, it was to the sound of birds chirping. He kept his eyes closed, wondering if he'd just had a strange dream or something else. He wanted to ignore it but found he could remember the brief conversation far too clearly for it to be nothing.

But right now, he was tired, so he just focused on the warm sun on his face.

His bed felt so soft. Like plush, downy feathers...

Wait... when did his moms get him a featherbed?

Kir opened his eyes and sat up.

He wasn't in his bed, he was on the loveseat next to the front door. As he sat up, he had to stand a little to let his wing out from under him. And he stretched them out, staring at their crimson sheen.

In the light of the sun, they looked more beautiful and yet ominous.

Darlae was "keeping guard" next to the fire pit; sleeping while sitting upright and cross-legged, a shovel stabbed into the ground supporting her back, her eyes half-open as if she was partially awake despite snoring.

Across from her, Brigit slept with far less dignity, having somehow fallen backward while still cross-legged, her arms splaying out on both sides of her and her mouth drooling as she snored even louder than her wife.

Kir felt a warm feeling in his chest at seeing that his moms had camped out all night to keep him safe.

Then he touched his chest and discovered that the warm feeling was accompanied by the hot feeling of the devil's oath branded between his pectorals. Pectorals that looked far buffer than they had last night...

"Holy hell..." he gasped as he stood fully and looked down at himself. His body was just like in his dream. A full inspection, which involved looking into the front and back of his now loose-feeling pants, revealed that some parts of him hadn't changed though. His tail was still a fleshy meter long with a mind of its own half the time, but overall, he felt more himself than he'd ever felt in his life.