77.- Curiosity on The Garden

The dungeon felt different that morning, as if a new layer of reality had been stitched onto its already strange existence. It wasn't worse or more dangerous—just different. The low hum of the red orb reverberated through the black stone walls, a steady pulse that thrummed in the thick air, while black vines crept through the cracks, their leaves glowing faintly green under the crimson light. Fire Blossoms flickered on the mossy garden floor, casting a warm glow that played with the shadows, and the scent of damp earth mingled with a faint sweetness that drifted without a clear source. It was a living, chaotic place, but for Sebastián, it was his corner, his home amidst the absurd.

Sebastián stood in the center of the garden, pruning a Lunar Whisper vine with a worn pair of shears. His calloused hands, stained with dirt and sap, wielded the tool with a precision born of years of practice, though his thoughts were far from the plants. The linen tunic he wore, speckled with green and brown, hung loose over his frame, and his dark brown hair, tousled from a century in the dungeon, fell over his warm brown eyes. He watered the Dragon's Tears carefully—violet flowers that shed iridescent drops if overdone—and shooed away a pair of earth golems that, as usual, tried to "help" by uprooting plants with more enthusiasm than skill.

"Get out of here, you little wreckers," he grumbled, waving a hand as the golems stumbled over each other, leaving a trail of broken petals. "I'm always the one who pays."

But it wasn't the golems that had him distracted. It was her. Aevia, the Throne of Primordial Chronoblood. Since her summoning a week ago, she'd slipped into his thoughts like a persistent shadow, and he couldn't shake her off. It wasn't just her cosmic power—he'd seen that with Kaili and Aurora—but something more personal, more unsettling. That "little gardener" she called him with an odd fondness he didn't understand, as if she'd known him before. And that form of hers, her youthful form of 19 years, which she'd taken to wearing almost constantly since arriving. It wasn't the adult Aevia, majestic and serene, but a version closer, more human, and that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

A soft rustle snapped him out of his reverie. He turned his head, and there she was, at the garden's entrance, as if time itself had dropped her there without warning. Aevia, in her youthful form, was a vision of contained provocation. She wore a light corset of solidified shadows that hugged her slender waist, covering her chest with an interwoven design that hinted at her iridescent skin without revealing too much, the blood-coagulated laces in the back tied in a loose bow that seemed ready to unravel. The short, pleated skirt, made of living fabric, ended just above her knee, with a subtle flare that accentuated her firm buttocks when she moved, though it covered her thighs when still. Tiny golden gears spun slowly along the edges of the corset and skirt, glinting with each step. Her short hair, a whirlwind of colors shifting between jet black, blood red, and violet, brushed her bare shoulders, and her eyes—feline slits with red sand swirling—locked onto him with an intensity that was both curious and defiant.

"Little gardener," she said, her resonant voice humming with mischief as she approached with a subtle sway, leaning in until her breath grazed his cheek. The corset creaked, offering a glimpse of skin between the laces, and she pressed lightly against his arm, her skirt fluttering with the motion. "What is eating?"

Sebastián raised an eyebrow, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at her. He wasn't shy—never had been—and though Aevia's closeness sparked a flicker of lust, he handled it with his usual ease. Her playful, provocative moves made him grin more than fluster. "Eating?" he repeated, his voice rough but tinged with amusement. "It's shoving stuff into this hole in my face, I guess." He pointed to his mouth with a finger. "Gives us energy, keeps us going."

Aevia tilted her head, stepping closer until their bodies nearly touched. She leaned forward, the corset tightening to reveal a hint of her firm breasts, and her skirt lifted just enough to flash a thigh as she turned. "Energy?" she said, her voice dropping to a playful whisper as her fingers brushed his arm. "I take energy from time, little gardener. Why don't you?"

He laughed, a relaxed sound that cut through the tension. "Because I'm not a Primordial Throne, Aevia," he replied, stepping back to reclaim some space, though his eyes lingered on her skirt's movement for a second. "I'm human. We eat food—meat, plants, whatever—to keep moving."

She stared at him, as if unraveling a cosmic puzzle, then pointed to a Dragon's Tear with a finger, her nail grazing an iridescent drop. "And the plants?" she asked, leaning against his shoulder with a casual move that made the corset creak again, teasing a glimpse of skin. "Do they eat too?"

Sebastián grinned, resting the shears on a nearby root. "Sort of," he explained, his voice steady and patient. "They soak up water and nutrients from the soil, and use sunlight to make energy. It's called photosynthesis. Slow, but it works."

Aevia stepped toward the plant, her skirt swaying with the motion, and touched a leaf with her fingertip. The Dragon's Tear bloomed instantly, its violet petals unfurling with a radiant glow. "Interesting," she murmured, turning to him with a sly smile. She leaned closer, the corset outlining her breasts, and her voice dropped to a teasing whisper. "But slow. Too slow, little gardener."

Before he could stop her, she snapped her fingers. Time around the plant sped up, and in seconds, roots burst from the soil, leaves stretched like claws, and vines climbed up Sebastián's legs, tangling him to his waist. "Aevia!" he yelped, struggling as the plants pinned him. "Not everything needs your magic!"

She laughed, a soft but mischievous sound that echoed in the chamber, and stepped closer, bending over him until her feline eyes were inches from his. Her skirt lifted, baring more thigh, and she rested a hand on his chest, her short hair brushing his cheek. "Your chaos is prettier up close, little gardener," she said, her tone playful as her firm buttocks peeked subtly under the skirt's flare. Sebastián felt a spark of lust, but he countered it with a crooked grin.

"Looks like you're having fun," he said, his voice relaxed with a hint of mischief. "But if you're gonna tie me up with plants, you could at least help me out."

A sharp slice freed him. Kaili, emerging from a corner of the garden, swung a knife with precise force, cutting through the vines with a grunt. Her purple skin gleamed under the orb's light, golden and red runes pulsing on her tight armor, and her six iridescent wings cast purple glints as she crossed her arms. "Stop making a fool of yourself, Aevia," she said, her tone sharp as ever. "This is what happens when you let a cosmic kid loose."

Aevia straightened instantly, and her clothes shifted as if by magic. The corset lengthened, covering more skin up to her shoulders, and the skirt stretched to her calves, falling in elegant pleats that hid her curves. Her stance turned regal, and she regarded Kaili with serene calm. "It's not foolishness, Kaili," she replied, her resonant voice softening. "I'm just exploring this place's time."

Sebastián, freed from the vines, stood and brushed the dirt off his tunic. "Thanks, Kaili," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Though I think Aevia was just… testing something?"

Kaili snorted, her dark eyes piercing him. "Testing something, sure. What's next, teaching Aevia to waste time, gardener? This is gonna end badly, I know it."

Aevia stepped toward Sebastián the moment Kaili looked away, and her clothes shifted back. The corset shortened, revealing skin between the laces, and the skirt rose, flashing a thigh as she turned. She leaned against his arm with a coquettish move, her buttocks subtly outlined by the fabric. "Why not speed them up, little gardener?" she asked, her voice low and playful as her fingers grazed his chest. "If I control time, why wait?"

Sebastián chuckled, looking at her with a mix of amusement and curiosity. Those shifts of hers—provocative with him, elegant with others—threw him off, but he liked it. There was something familiar in her behavior, like she really had known him before, and it put him at ease. "Because plants need their pace, Aevia," he explained, pointing to the Dragon's Tears. "Rush them, and they die. It's like if I tried breathing time instead of air—it doesn't work."

She leaned closer, the corset teasing a glimpse of her breasts, and her skirt flared as she turned, baring a full thigh. "You and your plants are slow," she said, her tone flirtatious but warm. "But I like watching you with them, little gardener." She pressed against his shoulder, her body brushing his, and he felt a flicker of desire but kept it in check with a grin.

"Someone's gotta keep this place looking good," he said, turning to a corner of the garden where his favorites grew: black roses, purple lilies, and red carnations, their dark hues gleaming under the orb's light. He plucked a few carefully, his fingers weaving them into a small crown with practiced ease.

Aevia watched, stepping closer with that sway she only used with him. "What are you doing?" she asked, leaning in until her short hair brushed his cheek. The corset creaked, offering a peek of skin, and she pressed against his arm, her firm buttocks hinted at under the skirt. "Is it for me, little gardener?"

"You bet," he replied, his voice steady with a dash of mischief. He finished the crown—a mix of red, purple, and black that clashed beautifully with her shifting hair—and placed it gently on her head. She froze for a moment, her feline eyes losing focus as if a distant memory had seized her. The red sand stopped swirling, and a faint blush tinged her iridescent cheeks. Then she blinked, snapping back, and looked at him with a shy smile that didn't match her earlier boldness.

Sebastián picked a white flower, a Snowbell, and tucked it behind her ear. "And this too," he said, studying her with curiosity. "Looks good on you. You okay?"

She touched the crown with a hand, the blush fading slowly. "Yes, little gardener," she murmured, her resonant voice softening. "The flowers… they remind me of something." She stepped closer, pressing against his chest with a flirtatious move. "I like them."

He grinned, stepping back to keep some distance, though his eyes flicked to the corset for a second. "Glad to hear it," he said. "They're my favorites—red, purple, black. Kaili says she doesn't care about flowers, that their beauty's a waste of time. But if you like them, I'd be happy to have a partner to keep the garden looking nice."

Aevia laughed, a mischievous sound that echoed in the chamber, and stepped back, spinning so her skirt flared and flashed more thigh. "I like your flowers, little gardener," she said, her tone playful but warm. "They're… noisy, like you."

A rustle broke the moment. Terrón, the small clay golem, stumbled toward them, clutching a handful of torn petals as an offering. Aevia turned to the golem, and her clothes shifted instantly: the corset lengthened, covering more skin, and the skirt stretched to her calves, falling in elegant folds. "Thank you, little guardian," she said, taking the petals with a graceful poise.

Sebastián watched, scratching the back of his neck. "It's funny how you switch with them," he remarked, his voice relaxed but intrigued. "With me, you're… something else."

Aevia glanced over her shoulder, and her clothes transformed again: the corset shortened, teasing skin, and the skirt rose, baring a thigh as she turned. She stepped closer, leaning against his arm. "Because you're different, little gardener," she said, her resonant voice dropping to a whisper just for him. "Time told me so."

Kaili snorted from a corner, slicing a stray vine with a quick flick. "If you're done flirting with flowers, how about doing something useful?" she said, her wings casting purple glints. "Or are you just gonna keep wasting time with that nonsense?"

Sebastián laughed, looking at Aevia. "What do you say? Stick with the plants or try something new?"

She leaned toward him, the corset outlining her breasts, and her skirt flared as she turned, hinting at her buttocks. "I want to see more of your time, little gardener," she said, her tone flirtatious but genuinely curious. "What else do you do with those hands?"

He grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes but respect holding him steady. "Well," he said, pointing to the underground lake in the distance, "how about we go fishing? It's slow, like the plants, but you might like it."

Aevia laughed, stepping close until her shoulder brushed his. "Fishing," she repeated, her skirt swaying with each step. "If you say so, little gardener, I'll try it."

Kaili crossed her arms, grumbling. "This is gonna be a disaster," she muttered, but a half-smile betrayed her resignation. "Don't blame me when it goes wrong."

Sebastián shook his head, watching Aevia follow him toward the lake, her clothes swaying with every provocative move. He didn't know why she knew him or why she switched like that with him, but he liked it—a lot. There was something familiar about her, something that made him trust her, and as the golems stumbled behind, scattering petals in their wake, he figured having her around was a chaos he didn't mind one bit.