Prelude <Side: Muse Symphony>
"What...? You want to hear stories from my past?"
It had been three years since Raysi and I started dating, and around that time, he grew curious about my history. Until then, I'd mostly listened to his stories, so now it was my turn to share. As lovers, it wasn't right for me to keep my past hidden from him anyway.
I delved into the depths of my memories and pulled out tales from my childhood for Raysi.
"My family has served in the royal palace guard for generations. Naturally, I was destined to join them too, training from a young age."
The Symphony family had worked at the palace for over a century, which let me enlist in the guard without much struggle. But I hated that privilege. It meant people who'd worked harder than me could get rejected. And above all, I didn't enjoy wielding a sword.
"I have—had—an older brother. His name was Tune Symphony, with light red hair. Three years my senior, we endured training together and even developed a shared hobby: music."
A minstrel's performance we stumbled upon in the kingdom square left a profound impact on us. After that, my brother took up the lute, and I the violin. Our parents allowed it as long as it didn't interfere with our duties. Back then, I was so grateful.
But those happy days didn't last. One day, my brother suddenly abandoned his impending appointment as captain of the guard, our family—everything—for a letter declaring he'd pursue music. His name was erased from the family records, and I was completely cut off from music too.
Training grew even harsher after that, as I had to fill his shoes. That marked the end of my reckless youth. Instruments and sheet music—all taken away. In place of the bow for my violin, I gripped a crude, heavy sword. Even humming tunes was forbidden, and my parents' interference intensified alongside the grueling regimen.
"In those days without music, I even resented my brother at times—wished he'd taken me with him. But I understood him. I blamed the oppressive family traditions for driving him away."
Eventually, succeeding him as captain, I rediscovered my passion for music upon stumbling across a piano in the palace cathedral. It might seem odd for a guard captain to accompany hymns there, but it was my last stubborn holdout. Playing the piano released my pent-up emotions, and I'd sneak in violin sessions to soothe my heart.
Yet even that joy was fleeting. During a royal expedition, many comrades fell, and I lost my arm. The Symphony family rejected me for it—deemed a one-armed guard captain useless to both family and palace.
"Cast out, I entered a convent, trained as a priestess, and rose to my current position. Meeting you there must have been the goddess's will."
Rumors swirled that they'd adopted a daughter to replace me as captain. Absurd, but thinking of my still-living brother and myself left a bitter taste.
"Ahaha, was that too heavy? Don't take it so seriously—let's finish our drinks. Cheers!"
Raysi's face darkened as he listened. To lighten the mood, I forced a toast by lifting his glass. Still, I was grateful for his empathy and concern.
"But it touched me, you know? You getting angry on my behalf... worrying like it was your own pain... and you, my lifesaver, coming back to me as my lover. It makes me so happy. I want to feel your warmth forever... Is that okay?"
"Of course, Muse."
A place that resembled a church. But its interior, once holy, had twisted into a grotesque space overrun by jet-black tentacles coiling across ceiling, floor, and walls.
Rainbow-hued stained glass had faded, windows smeared with vivid bloodstains. Rows of pews stood empty, bathed in crimson light—an blasphemous den that could pass for a brothel before a house of worship.
Most shocking was the statue: a woman's body fused with a man's genitals, posed in lewd abandon. It stood where the statue of Goddess Hecate should have been, as if it belonged there.
And then, organ music echoed.
Beneath the statue loomed a massive pipe organ, claimed by a woman. Only her back was visible, but it revealed plenty: pink skin denying her humanity, thick pink hair tied to one side. In a place demanding modesty, she wore not a stitch—her massive rear and smooth back fully exposed in obscene display. Even from behind, her enormous breasts protruded strikingly.
As a priestess of the goddess, I had to stop this woman defiling the altered church with her vulgar form and playing. It was my duty.
Yet...
[♩♪♬♩♪♬♩♪♬♪♪♪~]
The slender right arm and grotesque demonic left played a melody that threatened to drown me. Rage at the sight forgotten, I fell entranced.
Her gentle song cradled all like a kind embrace—identical to the tones from my childhood with my brother.
Even her humming alongside the organ resonated like heavenly song, stirring the soul.
If I approached now and halted her music, I'd never hear it again. Somehow, I knew it.
Thus, my foot—barely extended—froze in place. Refused to move.
--Clap clap clap!!
[Whenever I hear it, it's such wonderful playing, Muse♥]
Amid immersion in the melody, applause interrupted, blending with the song.
Turning toward the sound revealed a woman... a demon. Blue-skinned with pink eyes, exuding sensuality. Like the statue, female yet brazenly sporting a male organ, clad in a black swimsuit—a luxury for nobles.
Her voice, sultry as the organist's, drifted as she entered through the church doors, sauntering slowly.
Hearing it, the woman stopped playing. Turned around and...
[Welcome, Glacia♥ My love♥]
A single long cloth draped vertically over her body—barely covering—as her massive manhood hoisted it like a tent. Beyond vulgarity's grasp.
And her face—realization dawned now with the voice:
"M-Me...?"
Cross Moon - 27th (Morning)
"Uwaaaah...!!"
I bolt upright, kicking off the blankets. Gasping as if surfacing from deep water.
Too vivid for a mere nightmare. No ghosts, no falls from heights, no severed limbs.
"Why... why me...?"
That face was mine. The voice too. Yet not me. I don't have that skin, that body, that twisted left arm. I'm human, a priestess—and my left arm is... gone.
Above all, despite a physique eclipsing any woman I'd seen, defiantly crowned by... that massive manhood. Perhaps even larger than Raysi's.
"P-Priestess is awake! Someone fetch a healer, quick!"
"What...?"
An familiar voice pierces the haze, and awareness dawns: I'm not in church robes at the altar, but in patient garb on a healer's bed.
"What... happened?"
"Priestess Muse, no memories at all?"
The voice belonged to a junior priestess, face etched with worry.
No memories...? What brought me here?
--Creeeak...!
No time to sort my jumbled thoughts—the door swings open, admitting a crowd: lord's direct guards, healers. And the lord himself...?
"Awake, are you, Priestess Muse?"
"Lord Edward...? Why are you here personally?"
"Sorry to trouble you so soon after waking, but... do you know why you're in the clinic?"
His concerned tone—uncharacteristic of the usually solemn lord—stirred something, but...
"I... can't recall clearly. Did something happen to me...?"
"Sigh... As expected. Forgetting might be a mercy. But since you're entangled in this incident, better hear the full truth."
My incident...? Entangled how? The only dealings with the lord were discussions for church sermons.
Ah... Could it be that?
What really happened to me?
Confusion mounted as unknowns piled up, my situation dubious.
"Calm yourself and listen. Last night... you were assaulted."
What followed from the lord was horrific enough to shatter anything in rage had my body been whole—chilling to the bone.
Assault...? Possible. Haeweol isn't the only faith; rival sects strike. Even nonbelievers, thugs attack innocents—and I could be targeted.
But my assault wasn't physical blows.
"Molested...? My body?"
Guards on patrol found me when church doors—meant to be locked—stood ajar suspiciously.
My neat priestess robes torn, undergarments disheveled. Someone used me to sate lust and fled.
Not just that—deep lipstick marks, bruising grips everywhere. Especially my neck: red brands like tattoos, unerasable.
"L-Lies!? No, no no no. Wait. Just wait. Yesterday evening? I was at church for prayer service! And visitors then..."
Memories surface. Retrace yesterday: routine morning, commute to church. There, a blue-haired noble-like lady who admired me. Then cleaning with fellow priests for evening prayers...
Prayers end, all leave. Alone, I offer final prayer. That night... worrying for Raysi, who'd left without warning, beseeching the goddess for his protection.
And...
"Raysi... Raysi came! H-He was alone in the church with me...!?"
"Calm down, Priestess Muse! Raysi...? Impossible. He's on mission, not even in the territory now..."
"No! No doubt! Wearing unfamiliar heavy armor, speaking warmly as always...... Huh?"
Clutching my head, dredging buried memories... but each unearthed more questions.
If Raysi sought a final farewell before mission... why helmet on, unremoved? To hide from others...? No. Bursting through doors drew all eyes; he'd never make such novice error, no matter how eager.
Doubts multiply. His voice... too high for a cold. Fundamentally... yes, the voice was different from the start.
Why didn't I notice? Why surrender to that self-proclaimed Raysi?
I can't face real Raysi! Memories end there. Nothing after.
But circumstances suggest... assaulted, molested... perhaps even raped!
"Lord! Any other anomalies on my body? Th-That is..."
Embarrassed to voice it outright—"rape traces?"—I just gape.
The lord, seeing my plight, speaks first.
"Priestess Muse, nothing to worry about was found. No foreign fluids inside. That suffice?"
"Ah... thank you."
Perceptive. Now grasping what happened and my situation...
Time to act. Rising from bed—
"If you're thinking of returning to duty like this... I advise against."
The lord spoke as if anticipating it.
Advise against...? No way.
"Grateful for concern, but I'm no saint taking hits lying down. I'll investigate myself. Don't stop me."
"For your sake too—but know you're a target now. I'd love to sweep them myself, but I'm more constrained than you think."
"A target...?"
"Remember that predawn summons? Asking holy power probes in alleys?"
Impossible to forget. Dragged from sleep, sleepless vigil till dawn, scanning back alleys with holy barriers. No explanation—just confirmed intricate holy wards, then abrupt departure. Utterly baffling then...
"Disappearances. Victims: pickpockets, homeless—back-alley dwellers. Too many oddities for simple missings; sinister forces suspected. Your assault likely tied."
The lord continued calmly. I grasped the subtext.
Beyond worry...
"You don't want more obstacles. Me rising active so soon after marking as target is bait on a hook."
"Won't deny. But concern is genuine—you're a resident, once valiant knight. Stay put till it quiets; gag order on your awakening."
"Swift handling. Your point's valid, but... one question. Raysi involved? His sudden mission vanishing... all because...!?"
"H-He's fine. Trusted veteran adventurer above all. Rest easy, focus recovery. I'll go—piles of work."
The lord and healers rose, departed after those words.
"Don't worry, strong, trusted adventurer..." Praise overflowing, but I caught the faint fluster beneath.
Alone in the quiet clinic, feeling like the lone outsider to shared secrets, Raysi's face comes to mind.
My love, my prince... Picturing him eases the anxiety...
"Raysi... you're okay, right?"
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