“Mistress”, Argyle hissed in a demonic voice which clashed with his illusory face, “you know that Mr. Wulf hates my kind. But that only my kind would actually lift a finger in real work.”
I nodded. “If you want something done and don’t care if anyone is happy, conjure a demon. If you want nothing done but everyone to be happy, rely on pixies.” Indeed, with each step up his walkway, the perception of the front yard changed. At first it was subtle; the plants seemed sharper and more vibrant. But halfway up up the walkway, the shapes of the plants themselves changed. What had appeared to be bushes, were actually waist-high toadstools. Fading into existence as if they were a mirage, I could see shimmering outlines of sleeping or hung over pixies. By the time we made our way to the front door, it was apparent that the entire front lawn was a faerie ring vibrant with life. The house itself was far from the run-down domicile we’d pulled up in front of as well; it had grown considerably, and was actually a huge mansion which defied the actual dimensions of the house as perceived from the road. Argyle shivered uncomfortably. “I’m afraid you must come with me, my friend,” I said.
Argyle opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the door creaking open. Mr. Wulf’s assistant, a long-haired elf named Tanya, answered the door in a shimmering, blue-tinted transparent robe. Even while wearing a female body, I had to admire her perky tits and erect nipples. “Mr. Wulf will see you now”, she announced in melodic tones.
We were escorted into a sitting chamber, where Mr. Wulf sat atop a couch all of his own. “Punctual as always, Morgana,” he intoned. I looked deep into his brilliant gold eyes and nodded.
“I’m here at your request. You said earlier that the fates have interpreted for me the meaning of my vision?”
Mr. Wulf smiled, his eyes twinkling and his fangs just peeking out from his lips. He was a huge white faerie hound, easily two hundred pounds, with a coat so fluffy that he looked twice as big. Imagine a pale white wolf with the fur of a Great Pyrenees dog, and then you would have a pretty good image of what was sitting on the cushion front of me. “For the first time this century, the end of your curse is within your power.”
I was pleasantly surprised by this news. “Do you know anything more?” I asked hopefully.
Mr. Wulf nodded solemnly. “I know that, one way or another, your journey will end in California. He who inflicted your curse has just been reborn.”
My eyes flashed violet with rage as I shrieked, “MERLIN?”
Mr. Wulf slid off of the couch and padded along the smooth marble of his mansion’s foyer, pacing towards me. The rolling muscles just beneath the surface of his skin were emphasized as he loomed closer, his huge shaggy head remaining stable as the rest of his body swayed. He sat down on his haunches in front of me, then cocked his head to the side inquisitively.
“You do want to be free of this curse, don’t you Morgan?” he asked.
I gritted my teeth and nodded. “Yes, I do.”
Mr. Wulf nodded solemnly. “The prophet also told me that if you’re going to have a chance, there are a few conditions which your journey must meet.”
I sighed. Prophets often had strange requests, but ignoring them was a guaranteed way to fail. “Tell me what I have to do, then.”
Part 1b: Hitching a Ride
Argyle and I walked back to the car, and he started to open the door for me. I declined to enter, though. “Actually, Mr. Wulf says we must start this journey with nothing. We can have only what we find or take from this point forward,” I said.
Argyle frowned. “No car, then. And your clothes?”
I grumbled. “You’re right, no clothes either.” I stretched out my arms, and my robe untied itself. It dropped to the floor, leaving me standing nude in the middle of the driveway. I pulled off my necklace and other jewelry, then handed it all to Argyle. He looked down for a moment at my full, rounded tits before he opened the door and stashed everything inside.
“I may use my magic as I like, however,” I said.
Unfortunately, conjuring spells consume more power than any other class of spell. Creating anything out of nothing was going to burn a lot of Power, and my Curse meant that I had no reserves to speak of. But it had to be done, or else I’d be too conspicuous and would have to burn even more Power to get out of the situation. I looked down for a moment and caressed my nearly flat belly, wistfully reminding myself that it’s the last time I would see it that flat in this body.
And then, I snapped my fingers. The air around me began to shimmer, and then my body was shrouded in a thin, cool mist pulled together from the air itself. I levitated in the air for a few inches as the mist solidified, forming itself into jeans, a t-shirt, and shoes. The only reserve of Magick I could draw on, my little one’s life force, burned rapidly as I materialized clothes from thin air. Even as my new clothes finished materializing, my belly shook violently for a moment, then began to expand with a vengeance. My abdomen swelled rapidly outward as the baby aged, his life force burning as it fueled my spell. My child’s life is the only source of Power I have, and as my child ages within me, my pregnancy advances rapidly. I’d meant to take this one slow, stretching out the pregnancy out for three months or more, but I knew I’d burn through the rest of my gestational period today.
I ran my hand along the swollen orb of my belly. I now appeared to be in my fifth month, as my belly was bulging out now, unmistakably with child. The shirt I’d conjured had been form-fitting when it was initially conjured, but I’d continued expanding for a while after it had materialized, so my burgeoning midriff was bare and exposed by the too-small shirt. My breasts had swollen as well, and were barely contained by the shirt. I hadn’t spent any Power in conjuring a bra, and the dark discs of my nipples were slightly visible through the white cotton shirt.
I didn’t want to burn any more magic re-sizing my clothing, so I simply shrugged and began walking down the street. “What are the terms of this journey, my mistress?” asked Argyle.
“We’re permitted to rely on our cunning, magic, strength, and guile to get there, and to end the curse. That means we kill Merlin. However, we may make no use of anything derived from our life up to this point.”
The demon wrinkled his forehead. “We’re to make this journey as if we were homeless?” he inquired.
I nodded, then thought for a second and plucked his cellphone off of his hip. “I’m afraid this comes from our finances too.” He hissed, an angry and peeved sound, as my finger glowed in preparation to disintegrate it. “That’s my favorite phone, mistress.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes, then flattened out my palms and cast a small gating spell. The phone vanished between my hands and reappeared in our hotel suite. My baby kicked violently as he grew, and I buckled slightly. Argyle caught me as I stumbled, my hands covering my belly as it swelled ever so slightly more. “Damn my generous nature,” I said through gritted teeth.