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• virtue user

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Blueberry Milk Cookie was flat on his bed, limbs sprawled like he had simply given up halfway through the day.

The Virtue of Knowledge breathed softly into his pillow, face flushed, skin uncomfortably warm, squirming now and then as if the mattress itself were to blame.

His hat and coat had been discarded somewhere near the foot of the bed, his staff clattering uselessly against the wall earlier.

All that remained was the white outfit he wore beneath the coat, rumpled and clinging in places.

His hair was an utter mess, a few loose strands stuck to his face with sweat as he let out a quiet whine, followed by an annoyed groan.

How had it come to this? Honestly, he was still asking himself the same thing.

Earlier, a lesson had gone sideways.

A student, well meaning but wildly overconfident, had attempted to recreate a spell from memory.

It detonated into a cloud of strange pink dust, glittering softly as it filled the room. Blueberry Milk Cookie had inhaled it before he could even think to shield himself.

At the time, nothing happened. No sparks, no lingering magic.

He had waved it off as a misfired glitter spell and calmly corrected the student, walking them through the proper steps like nothing was wrong.

Now, though, he was very sure it had not been a glitter spell.

He rolled onto his side and curled in on himself, grumbling as unfamiliar sensations ran through him in slow, aggravating waves.

Everything felt too much. Too warm. Too close. Too distracting.

Hot and bothered did not even begin to cover it.

At least he had been lucid enough to send help.

Earlier, he had tied a letter to a bird and sent it off toward another kingdom, addressed to his lover, another Virtue who ruled over their own domain. The message was brief, a little embarrassed, and very clear about the kind of help he needed.

Now all that was left to do was wait.

And Blueberry Milk Cookie was not very good at waiting in his current condition.