What was this feeling?
Frederick didn’t know, but he wanted more. He looked into Moira’s beautiful blue eyes, almost losing himself in them. The hot feeling on his lips still lingered. The electric ran through his body where his love’s fingers touched. Heet gathered inside his body and travelled down.
And between his legs…
There was no expected stiffness.
Frederick blinked, wanting to reach down and pat his crotch, but he already knew there was just a little stub left. And apparently, the shrunken remain of a penis couldn’t get hard, either. And the lack of balls was strange if liberating. His once-treasured sex was reduced to what looked like an overly large clitoris.
Furthermore… There was this itch where a girl’s parts were now forming. And he really wanted to stuff something into the opening and scratch… Hard…
But wait!
Didn’t this mean he was now a girl? But he still had a bit of a penis left. So, not a girl?
And why had he agreed to this in the first place? Moira had asked him for a favour and said this was important. She had told him a lot of things and promised…
Frederick felt a dopy smile form on his face. That kiss had wiped away all of his sorrow. “Hmm?” He was forgetting something again. It had started to happen quite often now. But what was it?
“Snap out of it!” Moira shook him again.
Frederick swayed, registering each time his body pressed against the plentiful breasts of his love. “Huh?” He blinked and looked at the incoming golem that wore his father’s face. “Oh…”
Suddenly, he was reminded of the death of his only family. The corpse behind him weighed heavily on his consciousness. Frederick felt tiers once again pour down his face. “Father…” He extended his hand towards the magical construct.
It was vague, but he remembered his dad telling him about this. Years ago, Frederick’s father had sat him down on his lap. It had been one of the moments the young prince had been allowed to be a child.
And the King had told Frederick tales about the old rulers. He was told about how each generation of them came to this hall to live their final moments. It was a tale about giving their souls for the future.
Now, Frederick was the last of his line. The heavy-duty of protecting the future was now on his shoulders. He felt it keenly – the connection to this place.
“Father,” His hand sought out Moira’s and grabbed it. Her warm palm gave him courage. Frederick ignored Elana, who was clad in Ice armour and weapons. He didn’t care about Moira’s new status as the Saintess.
What was important was that these people mattered, and the last spell his father had poured his remaining life into was threatening them.
The Magical Construct looked at him, some expressions flashing through its face. Frederick saw some remains of his father in it. Not just in resemblance but in the calm dignity and worry about the people he usually had.
“You can, Father…” Frederick stepped forward, knowing he had to stop this madness. Moira couldn’t be hurt. She was the Saintess and his love. The girl had gifted him a kiss and emotions he treasured more than anything else. And Elana was there too, clearly an important person to Moira.
“Stop,” He felt feeble. Frederick discarded his weapons, knowing they would be of no use. The new body, gifted by the Saintess, was weak when compared to the old one. But it had its purpose.
Moira had said there was one… What was it? Something about beauty and the Goddess…
Frederick shook his head. That wasn’t important. “Stop!” He raised his voice – unrecognisable to himself, it was melodic and high-pitched.
There were so many times Frederick didn’t recognise himself. These couple of days had been too much for him. It was all so foggy. But Moira was there for him. She was always there when he needed her.
“STOP!” Frederick raised his hand and held his palm in front of him. “Please!” He cried.
The Magical Construct didn’t. If anything, it quickened its steps, now fixated on the trio that was free of chains. It opened his arms, face twisting into various expressions, sometimes taking on different features entirely.
It was as if several persons tried to claim ownership of the body made of mana. They released soundless roars, making the floor shake with each step.
Frederick simply stood. He heard Moira and Elana exchange heated words as they prepared to fight.
He did not want that. This construct was the last remains of Frederick’s father. “Dad… If you hear me…” His body trembled but refused to succumb to sorrow, pain and fear.
There was a connection. Frederick could feel it. He tried to grab it, but it continued to slip away. It was as if the souls inside the Construct refused to hear reason.
Then, the Construct was upon him. Frederick looked up at the large thing as it towered over him. He would not look away even if it attacked. He would serve as at least a shield to save Moira.
But…
While wearing his father’s face, the Construct stepped past him, raised the sword and aimed it at Moira.
Frederick’s heart stopped. His eyes bulged as he jumped to grab the Construct’s leg. “Stop!” He grabbed the magical thigh, failing to reach the arm.
Elana stepped in front of Moira, holding her shield high and gritting her teeth.
Frederick had not expected the selfish woman to do anything like this. But it suited her. He could respect that.
It didn’t stop the Construct. Its sword fell, aiming at Moira and…
“Don’t hurt my fiancee!” Frederick screamed with all his might.
The Construct came to a screeching halt. Its movements became jerky as it looked at Frederick, shock clearly painted on its face.
The question the Construct wanted to ask was voiced by the two women in unison.
“What?”
Despite everything, Frederick blushed. This wasn’t how he wanted to propose to Moira.
