Sherry was not sleeping; she couldn't. She had to maintain a steady control over Chameleon to keep up her disguise. So, she played the part of the sleeping damsel, ever since they had hauled her from the carriage. She was, however, undeniably weary, her energy reserves sapped from the earlier skirmish. The soft couch beneath her, much nicer than the wood and wire mesh of her previous captivity, further tempted her lie to transcend as truth. The adrenaline of coming face to face with her lifelong foes was the only thing keeping her awake.
She was also listening to the conversation between Epsilon and the Numbers that "rescued" her. Despite the discomfort of reliving her botched antacid plan through their bizarre, dysfunctional exchange, it confirmed a few things: Firstly, that Silon, the world-famous pianist, was actually a Shadow Garden member, and a high-ranking one at that. In fact, Silon was Epsilon, aka. one of the Seven Shades, which were part of the top brass serving directly underneath Shadow. This revelation almost made her laugh. Secondly, she has fully convinced them that she's a victim of demonic possession. A villainous smirk crept across Sherry's face.
"Hey, are you awake?" Epsilon's voice suddenly pierced through her thoughts, her hand lightly touching Sherry's non-deformed shoulder. Sherry stifled a gasp, managing to maintain a faux grogginess.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're safe now," Epsilon reassured her. Sherry slowly sat up. Clearly it was time to 'wake up'.
"Where am I?" Sherry performed her confusion flawlessly, adhering to the script she had rehearsed in her mind time and time again.
"You're someplace safe. We rescued you from those bandits," Epsilon explained, "They were going to sell you to the Cult of Diablos."
"Rescued?" Sherry had to muster all her self-control to keep her indignation from bubbling to the surface. "I mean... the Cult of Diablos? I don't understand."
"Let's talk about that after you're cured, okay?" Epsilon continued.
"Cured?" Sherry echoed. "How are you going to cure this?" Sherry gestured to her enlarged arm.
"Can you stand up for me?" Epsilon asked, pulling Sherry up by her good arm. Epsilon slowly attempted to pivot Sherry only to be met with subtle resistance. "Can you please turn around for me?"
"Um, you didn't answer my question. Also, can't the cure be administered from the front?" Sherry cautiously suggested. She had a strong suspicion that Shadow Garden utilized an artifact pilfered from the Church to remedy demonic possessions, and she was intent on witnessing it first-hand.
Epsilon, a tad surprised at this, reassured, "Don't be so scared. What do you think I'm going to do back there, huh?" Epsilon thought for a moment. Then her eyes narrowed, her demeanor shifting abruptly as she leaned in close, her tone far more grave than moments before, "We aren't being judgemental, are we?"
What was she implying? Sherry hastily shook her head, hoping she hadn't overstepped her bounds.
Epsilon's countenance quickly reverted back to a breezy smile. "Of course not, you were out cold. Plus, you seem more receptive than some." Epsilon's gaze flitted towards the blonde elf who was standing nearby. "Anyway, please just turn around, okay? We'll have to remove your clothes."
"Um, okay," Sherry replied, and twirled around in her cloak. She realized that any further pushback might jeopardize her carefully crafted façade. "Wait... What did you just say?"
Before she knew it, Epsilon deftly slashed through Sherry's clothes with her slime, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments. Instinctively, Sherry clung to the shredded remnants of her attire, her cheeks aflame with mortification. She was on the verge of objecting when a radiant glow of blues and purples began to fill the room.
It was time. She was about to enact a deception that could cost her everything. She had to convincingly deceive being healed from a fictitious malady. The problem however was manifold: 1. She didn't know what Shadow Garden used to cure demonic possessions, 2. She didn't know what it looked like to be cured, 3. She didn't know whether she could use Chameleon to mimic it, 4. She was being cured from the back, denying her any visual feedback loop, and 5. She had to be "cured" without changing her elongated nose back to normal.
Sherry needed to manipulate the Chameleon in an intricate yet plausible manner, with little to base her performance on. Sherry felt an emanating magical aura hold steady at her back and another hovering her deformed arm. For the time being, she would try to incrementally reduce her transformation in the areas where she felt the magic, in hopes of synchronizing with the pace of the cure.
–––
Epsilon carefully hovered her open palm on the girl's exposed back and held her other hand over the girl's raised left arm. Through nothing more than her own senses, she could feel the intricate ebb and flow of the somewhat unfamiliar victim's magic causing chaos in her arm.
"Hmm..." Epsilon's gaze narrowed. Sweat had begun to trickle down the poor girl's back.
Epsilon, known as "The Precise" for her exquisite control over magic, still found it difficult to deal with humans, though this was primarily due to a lack of experience. Human victims of demonic possession were surprisingly rare, and their magic was biologically different. Epsilon had only cured a handful of them herself: the worst case took over four hours and with Alpha massaging. Fortunately, this girl's disease had only progressed to her arm so Epsilon was relatively confident she could manage it by herself this time. Of course, Lord Shadow could cure individuals of any species at any progression by himself in seconds while they were fully clothed and even from several feet away, perfectly! But comparing anyone, much less herself, to her own master was inherently unfair.
Even if Epsilon could, in theory, cure elves and therianthropes through a variety of barriers as if it were some kind of Cure Trickshot Olympics, why invite that risk? Usually, victims didn't fuss about how they were being healed; they just wanted the cure – especially if it's from Lord Shadow himself.
Well, okay, most don't actually learn about his glory until after joining Shadow Garden, but once they do, retroactively, everyone wishes they were cured by him, and for those select few who were, it becomes a bragging right in Shadow Garden.
Epsilon was among those lucky ones, having received Lord Shadow's healing touch herself. There was no shame in admitting that her own cures didn't inspire the same level of awe and efficiency – Lord Shadow was very particular about who he picked. Still Epsilon would be doing this girl a disservice if she didn't at least try to give herself as many advantages as possible if it meant a safer and more effective cure.
"Maybe she's sensitive," Epsilon mused aloud, causing the girl to stiffen unexpectedly.
Epsilon considered offering an apology for the clothes; for all she knew, the bandits might have been far less considerate. Epsilon bit her inner cheek in contemplation.
Refocusing on the task at hand, Epsilon's magic wove around the girl's back, creating a pocket for the excess magic, a step in the process of the cure. But, strange, there was no effect. No change. It was as if the magic pocket was empty, siphoning nothing. Epsilon's brows furrowed in concentration, yet she continued, unable to pinpoint the anomaly. The abnormal growths along the arm, at least, have been subsiding as expected. Maybe the excess mana was being diverted somewhere else?
–––
Sherry was sweating bullets. She had no idea what she was doing, but she had to keep up the act. She had already fully reverted her arm, but Sherry could still feel Epsilon continue to glide the alleged curative artifact over her body. However, she couldn't get any more "cured". Sherry was teetering on the edge of panic until finally she felt a hand on her shoulder. "You're cured!"
"Really?!" Did she pull it off? Clutching both arms to her chest, Sherry turned excitedly, only to find herself merely inches away from Epsilon's face, the woman's expression unfathomable. Sherry's heart skipped a beat.
The two women stood frozen, embroiled in a silent standoff, the atmosphere thick with tension. Sherry didn't know what to say, and Epsilon merely stared at her, their proximity so intimate it was almost unbearable. Epsilon was so close that Sherry could feel the woman's breath brushing against her skin, a warm, irregular rhythm that sent shivers down her spine. The moment hung in the air, stretching out, the anticipation building with every breath. What was she looking at? In an effort to decipher Epsilon's line of sight, Sherry went cross-eyed.
"What's with your nose?" Epsilon finally broke the silence, suspicion lacing her tone.
"I-I-" Sherry's panic has reached its apex. She's been found out! She fought to keep her composure, her mind scrambling for plausible excuses. Her nervous control of Chameleon had made her nose twitch involuntarily, betraying her further. Perhaps, the only thing she can do now is reach into her crystal earring...
Out of the blue, Epsilon flicked Sherry's nose, causing her to reflexively clutch it with both hands, the scraps of fabric that were barely preserving her modesty falling to the ground. Now, only her lizard necklace bared her chest.
But then Epsilon chuckled, shaking her head. "Sorry, sorry, there's just some magic left on your face. I didn't mean to imply that you're ugly or anything, haha! And, uh, I'm confident it'll dissipate soon... most likely." A single bead of sweat trickled down Epsilon's cheek. It seemed Epsilon was attributing the lingering peculiarities to something entirely different.
The relief that washed over Sherry quickly morphed into a bout of shared nervous laughter between the two. Despite the fear and uncertainty, she felt oddly elated. She'd just tricked one of Shadow Garden's top operatives, hadn't she? Sherry's own laughter slowly got louder and a tad more maniacal. She halted abruptly when she noticed the roomful of eyes on her. Quickly picking back up what cloth she could, she hurriedly covered herself, blushing in embarrassment.
"You've had a rough time, huh? 567, get her some clothes!" Epsilon said, "and some tea." The blonde girl delegated this to her subordinates, who promptly left the room.
"Now let's talk about your future," Epsilon suggested, unknowingly paving the way for Sherry's hidden agenda. Sherry practiced her most innocent smile.