7 A new world

It was the aroma of a well-prepared meal that had awoken me.

I didn't know how much time had passed since I lost consciousness, but it had to be at least a few days if not more. Tha main clue was my health. The consequences of overdrawing Od were gone. 

What separated a user of magecraft from mundane humans was a possession of active magic circuits.

These multipurpose spiritual organs connected to spell formulas, stored Od, and converted vitality to Od.

Although this last function was widely believed to be controversial, some theories postulating that Od, the magical energy in the body, was the same as life force, and mana, the magical energy in the atmosphere, was merely the life force of the planet.

Others, including myself, believed in the conversion theory, which held that vitality needed some processing before use.

Whether either was true was not relevant here. Magecraft after all thrived in uncertainly, in the shadows between the light of knowledge and the darkness of ignorance. 

The body required some to properly function. Unless I focused and accelerated the process, refilling the excess storage would take time. But that had detrimental side effects. 

I had fifty circuits in my body and about twice that in my crest. Unless I depleted my vitality to unsafe amounts, it would take time to replenish my reserves of Od once spent. And I had used every last drop in that desperate spell. 

I had severely underestimated Three Worse Girls Since Eve. The reality was so much worse than a game.

An almost familiar ceiling.

The grand chandelier looked almost the same as I remember. Only the lightbulbs were replaced by the pieces of artfully worked-over crystal, which shone gentle starlight. 

Bed too. Large, luxurious, and comfortable. Almost like one I had in Tohsaka Manor. After three months of roughing it, it was pleasant to get back to a more suitable setting.

I guess my life as Rin had made me spoiled.

It was strange that I didn't experience any noticeable effects from being unconscious for several days...

There should be some. Soreness, thirst, hunger? I should have been ravenous, but I was merely peekish.

I saw no medical equipment for treating long-term unconsciousness, like intravenous tubes or…

Looking under the soft sheet, thankfully there was no catheter.

The room was both familiar and not. It was like someone took my old room at Tohsaka Manor and then regressed it several centuries, while simultaneously improving quality well far beyond human abilities.

There were clean clothes in an ornate wardrobe, made of dark wood. They looked a bit like medieval clothes as imagined by high-budgeted movie costumer. The colors were too bright and cut too fine. 

And there some something else about them. 

I dressed quickly and found that this outfit had pockets. There was a familiar modern-looking key in one of them. It seemed to have traveled across worlds with me.

Since I had no idea what to do with it I put it back into my pocket and followed the delicious aroma.

There was an herbal scent, a tea I suppose. Then something that smelt of bread. And I think I smelled some roasted meat. It smelled so good.

The house layout was the same as I remembered. Although electric lights were replaced by what seemed to be lanterns with the same crystal that I noticed in the chandelier.

"Finally awake, Rin," I heard a pleasing male voice as I entered the dining hall. It sounded almost musical but finer than anything I had heard before. 

For a moment I thought that I had gone back to Toshaka Manor. That all that happened with Mars and Mercury was just a vision or a dream. That same strange magical accident had transformed my home. That would be hard to explain. 

Then I looked at the speaker and knew that I was not true. Because he was not greeting Tohsaka Rin, he was speaking to the Rin the Elf.

The carved wooden table in the center was made for much more than two. But I somehow knew that it hadn't been fully used in centuries.

"Pleasant aroma woke me up. You have outdone yourself this morning, Fano," I replied. The voice that came out of my mouth had the same lyrical quality. Clear as glass, and beautiful as a flower in full bloom. 

I knew the name Fano because I had received a new set of memories. And even a brand-new language.

As one of the few Eldar of similar age in Imladris, Fano and I were close. As the Third Age slowly came to an end there were fewer and fewer elflings running in joy among the glades of Imladris.

"Your joy gladdens my heart," he replied with a warm smile, that made mine beat faster. 

But there was one thing nagging at me. He looked familiar, and not just because I remembered him from new memories. His hair was the color of fox fur, and his eyes resembled drawn steel.

Maybe it was intuition. Or I was just seeing what wanted to see. However, I did not want to repeat my mistakes and waste time. At worse I would treated with incomprehension. 

But at least I would know. 

Well, Fano loved riddles, so I posed a special one to him, "I have a riddle for you, as a small thanks for your effort. A short one, just one word: [Mars]"

I said the last word in English. It sounded harsh compared to Sindarin.

The familiar black and white falchions appeared in his hands. "Is this the proper answer to that riddle?"

I smiled in pure joy. Relieved I had found him again.

Wandering through the kaleidoscope of alternate Worlds, I was still lost but at least I wasn't alone.

"A true and proper answer," I said and took a sip of tea. "This..." I was rendered silent as subtle flavors caressed my tongue. "I have been drinking tea you have been making for years and this one is the best you have ever brewed."

I could not resist drinking more before moving to breakfast. It was supremely delicious. Each flavor was like a perfect note combined in a superlative symphony. I could stop until every bit of it was gone. 

Sated, I continued, "Is it interesting about our names in this word? Mine sounds the same, but yours carries the same meaning."

After all, Fano meant white in Quenya.

"That name no longer holds any meaning for me," he replied. He was smirking. Did he just quote Star Wars to me? One quote deserved another.

"It is the name of your true self. You've only forgotten."

He winced. That was a bit too much on the mark. 

Perhaps that was a bit insensitive of me, but to deny one's past was to forget the lesson learned. The pain was a great teacher.

We sat in awkward silence for a few minutes before I spoke again.

"The last thing I remember before waking up in this bed was the battle. What happened after that?" I said, trying to restart conversations.

"That was also the last thing I remember too." Archer began to gather empty dishes. I did not offer to help. He was a bit territorial about that. "One moment I was in the forest glade and the next in the kitchen."

"So no lost time?' I asked to confirm. 

"No." 

"Strange…" I muttered, "So I haven't been sleeping for a few days?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Because I had been completely restored. I took everything I had to defeat those three. It should have taken me at least five days if I pushed it."

"Now that you say it, I too am in perfect condition."

"I wonder if it was turning into Eldar or was it traveling between Worlds that did it? Well, no matter. Did you get new memories, too?"

"Yes, but they are subtle. I mean at first, I didn't even realize I had them until I just knew where all the spices were."

He was right.

There was no clash, no confusion with the newest set of memories.

I just knew things.

Like how to speak Sindarin, Quenya, and Westron. How to fight with a sword and bow. How to forge and mine. And other skills which I would come back to later. It was as if I had always known those things, but until prompted, new memories didn't intrude. It was so different from what had happened to me before.

"I see what you mean. I wonder, had we possessed those two elves, or is this merely a shadow that our existence cast upon this World? Since we are foreign to it, it may create these forms and history so we may fit in."

"Like a clam making a pearl?" he asked.

"Yes." I nodded. "Something like that."

"I hope that you are right. Even if it is an accident, I don't like the idea of possessing people."

"Pity is, I really have no idea how to check whether this is the truth of what has happened. From our perspective, both would look the same. Unless we encounter any sign of consciousness of Eldar we have replaced. Enough about that. You recognize where we are?"

"Arda. I have read Lord of the Rings. Besides, we had encountered the author as Servant."

"And the timing is a bit unfortunate. I remember encountering Bilbo Baggins, here in Imladris." Yes, we were in Rivendell, but not within Last Homely House. There were more homes here than just Elrond's, although visitors were unlikely to see them. Especially now near the end of the Third Age. "So this after his famous birthday party, but before Frodo came here. I don't think we could have missed that. How much time passes between those two events? I can't quite remember"

"Between year and decade. It has been a long time since I read those books."

"So the One Ring should be in the Shire right now?"

"I suppose so. You are not thinking about taking it by either force or trickery," he said, and then he continued, without giving me any chance to reply, "If you are it is forbidden."

Not that I was really thinking about it. Not seriously. But I couldn't blame him for thinking about what I would do after what had happened with Caster Tolkien.

At the time we had thought that his main Noble Phantasm was One Ring and that we were extremely fortunate that we could take it. Except that was the plan. Caster's real phantasm was Red Book: The Record of Imaginary History.

Even now I am not quite sure what Red Book could exactly do. I didn't observe it in action, and it was a book and not a sword so Archer was not of much help. What I knew was it could rewrite the history of people and objects, turning an ordinary gold ring into a forgery of One Ring, a normal wraith in an approximation of Ringwraith, or giving the Caster's Master Numenorian lineage.

Rather than gaining a powerful tool, we have been made into a target.

So the Holy Grail War turned into the War of the Ring while Caster slowly worked in the background preparing to finish who was left and take Holy Grail for himself.

Really, a proper plan for Caster

And once the war was reduced to four of us, me and Archer, Caster and his Master, he simply unmade the One Ring. After all, it was the creation of his Noble Phantasm. It was a good plan, but it didn't help him in the end.

"What if it was a gift?"

"Also forbidden," he was quick to answer.

I was not proud of how I acted under the influence of the false One Ring, but was this a bit harsh? I would still claim that adding a giant flaming eye on top of that skyscraper was an improvement.

"Conquering the world is absolutely forbidden." he continued, "All of your cruelty and lust for domination should be solely focused on me. I alone get to call you Master."

I gulped. More possessive than I had been used to hearing from him, but also quite hot.

"The main question would be what are going to do next?"

"So you first finish the meal, because you will need strength. Then the bed should be free."

Not exactly what I meant by what I had said. I was thinking more about long-term plans.

Really I was.

But I had no objection.

We were both back to being adults, and the local chief God was not smite-happy. And from what I remembered, he had no real objection to gay sex, which was kind of a surprise since there were absolutely no gay characters in the original work.

I was about to enthusiastically agree when I remembered something.

"I have to go to the smithy first," I said, tapping on the table with annoyance. "This morning, the twins are coming to pick up a commissioned sword."

The twins I was referring to were Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond, the ruler of this hidden enclave. There were many twins among the Eldar, but those two were the most famous and relevant to me as my frequent customers. Although they usually needed daggers and arrows.

They were also distant kin, mainly through their mother.

"Must you?" he pleaded, his eyes wide. So tempting, but...

"If I'm not there, they will come looking for me here," I explained, running my hand trough long raven locks, "Although being interrupted by a pair of twins could be fun, you already said that you are not in a sharing mood."

However, the pity was that there was no chance of them joining in on the act.

Even if one or both of the twins were interested in having a male lover, Eldar were disgustingly monogamous. Even with all parties consenting, they simply were not interested in sex outside of marriage.

No Elven orgies in this World. Such a great pity. I should complain to its maker.

Before I could convince myself that twins could benefit from some practical sexual education I left. 

The smithy was situated along the river Bruinen, a little away from any other buildings. It was downhill from my house and a bit upriver from the Last Homely House. The path was steep, passing through sparse forest.

I could hear the massive water wheels harnessing the power of the river before I saw the buildings.

There were many smithies, but most were closed and barred.

After the fall of Eregion, survivors settled here.

Naturally, there were lots of Eldar smiths among them. But now, at the end of the Third Age, most of them had left for the West.

I went to one that I used, the one my teacher left to me before he too left the mortal realms.

The interior was filled with gears, cogs, and belts. Also, there were many other smithing tools, some unconnected to gears like a hammer, an anvil, and tongs, and some using the river power like bellows. All of which I could now recognize and remember how to use.

The hammer was made of a single piece of silvery metal, mithril, mined in Khazad-dûm. It was made before Imladris was settled, in the land of Eregion, which was no more.

It was much more slender than what one would have expected a smith hammer to look like. Smaller and lighter too. It was also heavily decorated, with almost organic-looking engravings and even embedded gems.

The tongs were delicate, yet strong. Their grip was firm, and strangely, even though they were wholly made of metal, they didn't conduct heat. They too were made of mithril at the same time as the hammer. They were a set.

The anvil occupied the center of the smithy, raised on a podium, looking like a temple altar. A ring of Tengwar runes was engraved in the circle on the floor around it. The anvil was much younger, made at the same time as the building in which it stood.

The rest of the equipment and the building itself, like all work of the Eldar, seemed more like an art piece than a manufacturing tool.

And of course, I could feel it. All of it brimmed with hidden power and vitality.

I was supposed to wait for the twins to arrive, give them the sword as agreed, and hurry home to where Archer was waiting. But I couldn't resist testing my newly acquired skills on a simple task, such as forging a kitchen knife. A gift would be a good excuse for getting sidetracked.

I placed the fuel into the forge and lit it. The scent of smoke greeted me like an old friend. It spoke to me, revealing details that were pertinent to my craft. 

Then, I pulled the lever to open the gate so the river water could flow over the water wheel. With groans, the machinery of the smithy began to awaken, like a massive beast rising from slumber. The bellows started pumping air into the forge.

It was like a massive beast awakened from slumber, ready to greet the day. 

Soon, I was completely engrossed in the forging process, like Rin the Elf had done countless times before.

The past and present mixed, and with each action in the forge, my memories settled.

It was more than just a physical process.

With each stroke of my hammer, an ephemeral connection grew between me and the knife I was creating.

The Eldar believed that any act of creation could be infused with a part of their spirit, and I felt that connection.

It required both knowledge and skill, both of which I now possessed.

As I shaped the blade, I poured a part of myself into guiding it toward its intended purpose.

This process did not use magical energy as I knew it. Instead, it used the spiritual component of begetting a child, which allowed the birth of strange hybrids of Man and various phantasmal species, such as Merlin.

Thanks to my focused study of that part of the Tohsaka family magecraft, I recognized it and maybe even improved the process a little. I would need to study it more, but I think it would be useful for further improving that branch of the Tohsaka family magecraft.

Among the Eldar, it was said that the procreation and bearing of Eldar children required intentional effort and resulted in a greater share and strength of their being, in mind and body, than in the making of mortal children.

This intentional effort was the centerpiece of all Eldar craft, as it could be used with any act of creation, not just procreation. Metaphorically speaking, every product of Eldar craftsmen was their child.

Although poetic for works of art, it was disturbing to think that the delicious breakfast Archer had made for me this morning might be considered cannibalism.

I also tried to use magecraft during the forging process.

Unfortunately, most of my advanced magecraft was completely useless for metalwork. Even more basic things, like structural analysis and reinforcement, had limited use. Maybe if I had been making jewelry instead of a knife? The problem lay with me. Archer would probably have much better luck using magecraft in a forge, but that was never the focus of my research.

I should probably drag him here later. Since he was no longer a Servant and thus dead, he no longer had an excuse to avoid advancing his magecraft.

Of course, I would have to be careful. There was a delicate balance with magecraft, knowing enough to be of help, but not too much to be a hindrance.

But I had experience with his younger self. Even if I was his teacher, I had helped him develop his own style rather than teach him my craft.

Still, using reinforcement to increase physical abilities was somewhat helpful.

Structural Grasp would probably be more useful if I were better at it or if I didn't have memories of a skilled elven smith who could discern almost all the information from the sound of the hammer, the colors of heated metal, and how sparks flew.

Still, my attempts to use magecraft in the forge were not a complete waste of time and energy.

Comparing the two, I came to an interesting revelation. Magecraft used magic circuits to convert vitality into a more usable form of energy, while elven craft seemed to very essence of life directly.

"Greetings, Rin," the twin voices interrupted me while I was using a hammer to forge a blade.

I was so absorbed in forging that I didn't even notice them entering. The two of them were dark-haired, grey-eyed, and their faces were elven-fair, although there was a bare trace of human roughness in their features. Rather than diminish their handsomeness, it added to it.

I put the half-finished blade aside, dropped the tongs in the proper place, and then pulled the lever, stopping the mechanisms.

"I bid you welcome, Elladan and Elrohir. Have you come for your sword?" I said once the noise stopped. It was not a very formal greeting, but I knew them well enough, or at least I remembered knowing them.

"Yes," one of them said. I think it was Elladan. They were so alike that it was sometimes hard to tell which was which.

"I hope we have not interrupted you from important work?" Elrohir said. Well, I think that was Elrohir.

"Not just a quick project I did on a whim. Fano made me breakfast this morning, so I'm making him a knife as a gift."

"Was it a nice meal?" Elladan suddenly said.

"Yes," I answered, confused. "Fano is an excellent cook."

"And not the first time he had done it lately," Elrohir joined in. In whatever this was.

"No," I replied. Now that he mentioned it, I had memories of Fano, before our arrival, making several meals for Rin. Also, he took care of Rin's house a few times.

Well, that was a plus in theory that Fano was Archer projected on the history of the World.

"And you are making a kitchen knife as a gift?" Elladan asked next.

"I thought I already said that," I replied, getting annoyed. "Have you come for a sword or conversation?"

"Why? Are you short on time?" Elladan said.

"Perhaps he has plans, brother," his twin added. "With Fano."

"Yes, I do," I interrupted. "I'm going to get your sword."

I went to retrieve the sword promised to them. They often left this hidden valley to hunt Orcs, seeking vengeance for what had happened to their mother. Or perhaps I was being unkind, for they were somewhat annoying today. Maybe they were trying to prevent tragedy from happening to others rather than seeking vengeance.

It was a nice sword, but I believe I could make a better one now.

"Don't be angry. We didn't mean any harm," they said.

"We were just having a little fun."

"I am not mad. But I do have plans. So, your sword."

Perhaps I was a little rude, but I had said I had plans.

After they left, I was in no mood for further forging. The dagger was closer to completion than I thought it would be. So either I had worked faster, or they had arrived later than I thought they would.

Anyway, I could finish the gift for Archer tomorrow. After they left, I went back home.

When I arrived, Archer greeted me with these words: "I have found something interesting."

"Good lubricator I hope?" I said, with twins dealt with I was ready for the main event.

"Something that you will like even more," he replied and then led me to the basement of the house. I think I knew where this was going.

Every Magus had at least one Workshop, a place to study and practice their craft. Since a Magus's power depended on the preservation of their Mysteries, each Magus guarded their Workshop fiercely.

In the basement of Toshaka Manor, there was a secret chamber where my Workshop, and my ancestors', was located.

Unless there was something else of interest there, it could only be that, like the mansion, my Workshop had followed me here.

It could be a wine cellar. There used to be quite a nice collection of wines, but it was much reduced during the Fourth Holy Grail War, and I never had time to restock it. I wondered if the wines have become an elven wine now or if I have a collection of wines from another world?

No, it was my Workshop, since Archer led me to the false wall. The concealed entrance to it was in the same place.

I had shown it to Archer, or rather, I had to show it to him since the summoning circle was inside.

It didn't matter at the time since he was a Servant, thus technically dead. The Record of Mysteries, the phenomenon that allowed Servants to use spells from their legend that had no foundation at the time of their summoning, like Caster from the Age of Gods using Divine Words in modern times, also protected the Mysteries. In other words, it didn't matter if the Servant knew a mystery any more than a table did.

A simple wooden panel hid the arcane-looking door. The panel was magically inert, its main purpose was to hide the door from mundane visitors.

The door itself was made of black iron, heavy, and covered in engravings of monsters and demons. The keyhole was situated in the mouth of a lion's head. Forboding to some, but welcome sight to me.

The keyhole was also a trap. 

The door could only be opened by the touch of one who bore the Tohsaka Magic Crest.

But the true security of the Workshop was managed by Bounded Fields. Trying to access it in any way except by opening the door in the proper manner would have unpleasant consequences.

I opened the door and invited Archer to follow.

Now that he was alive, I probably should have banned him from my Workshop, but I trusted him not to pry where he shouldn't.

The Workshop had mostly avoided the temporal regression that had affected the rest of the house, but then again, there were hardly any modern objects in it. Even jeweler's tools would not have been out of place in a museum.

It was a large room, enclosed in a bounded field, filled with all sorts of mystical paraphernalia, including tools and reagents.

If they were the same as in my old Workshop, then they could be roughly divided into four groups, one for each of the subjects that I studied, and one for general ingredients.

The first was Jewel Magecraft. The sorcerer's gift turned to obsession. My ability to turn gems into Mystic Codes was a mere side effect of the Tohsaka family's efforts to recreate a much greater artifact.

I suppose I should be going back to that old homework, but I preferred to explore Sorcery in my own way. 

Objects related to that branch of Magecraft were straightforward. Raw, uncut gems, jewelry tools, all rather antique, and ingredients and tools for making emulsions to marinate gems, posish them. 

With a quick glance, I saw that they were mostly there and in the same place as well. There were about a dozen uncut gems among them.

By the contract, they were only for personal use. I couldn't sell them, and once they were used in Magecraft, they would be replaced by new ones. I wasn't sure if the replacements would still work.

The second discipline of Magecraft I studied was what my teenage self called Toshaka sex magic. My teenage self was something of a brat.

Sex and Mystery have been intimately connected long before the birth of any civilization. Tantra was a valid rite, but not one that Toshakas practiced. Our Mysteries had a more Western origin. Poor male Magi sold their seed, infused with magical energy, of course. And there was a saying that to know a Magus's fetishes, one just had to look at that Magus's familiars.

Toshakas were far from unique in studying sex magic. Other families of mages had used beauty to ensnare, or used sex as a catalyst of spiritual alchemy to refine life directly into magical energy, thereby avoiding the limitations of magic circuits.

Our particular branch of sex-based magecraft came from an effort to improve our chances of winning the Holy Grail War. It took time, but I managed to finish the Tohsaka family's standing objective. The fifth time was the charm. And then, to show how it was done, I did it nine more times.

After the successful trial run of the First Holy Grail War, the daughter of the founder of the Tohsaka family was searching for something that would give her family an advantage in the second. She found her answer among the heretics hidden among the hidden Christians: DE NUPTIIS SECRETIS DEORUM cum HOMINIBUS, a tome describing the mysteries inherent in sexual congress between mortal and divine, between human and inhuman.

It was a surprisingly broad topic of study, covering everything from the Watchers, fallen angels that were fathers of giants and husbands to witches, to elemental spirits that were uplifted by marrying humans, and many others.

Being deviant heretics my ancestors had focused on diabolism and necromancy. 

Included in that was posthumous marriage or necrogamy, which was used as one part of an advanced ritual the Toshaka family developed to better bind their own servants.

As a founding family, Toshakas were guaranteed a spot in the Holy Grail War, and thus access to a Servant. That allowed surprisingly quick progress in this line of study.

The items related to that were quite varied: sex toys, grave goods, sex toys that were grave goods, various drugs and aphrodisiacs, essential oils, and symbols of masculinity or femininity.

Some were illegal to own in the modern world, and many were embarrassing. But I could see that they were here, ready to be used.

And there were more esoteric things, like orbs with captured wet dreams, or lustful sighs of virgins. 

Sorcery wasn't something I inherited. There were no pre-made spells; each was of my own design.

So the items belonging to this category were ones that I had personally collected. Those items I felt had a connection with the Sorcery I had claimed, but how and why was something I had yet to find out.

A broken mirror, a plank of burned wood, a piece of a fallen star. I could not see them, nor could I sense them. Those objects seemed to be missing. How annoying.

Ingredients that didn't belong to any of the previous three groups were more general in purpose: dirt from a suicide's grave, rope made of human hair, virgin earth, mandrake, feathers of some Phantasmal Beast... They were joined by an array of enchanted tools that could be used for the construction of Mystic Codes. Those seemed to be in their proper places.

"Well, at first glance, mostly everything is here," I said to my companion. "I may have to be more frugal since I don't have an assurance that the contract used to restock extends across worlds, and most of this would be hard to replenish. But it is a relief to know I will have a full arsenal. Now strip!"

"Oh, sex in a workshop. Kinky," he said, teaching sensually. 

"Of course not," I said waving my hand dismissively. "There is a perfectly nice bed upstairs. I just want you naked. Naked in front of me. Walking naked in the house. Waiting naked in bed."

"Waiting?" he said. He had taken everything from the waist up. His new, elven, body was fair but very slender. All of his muscle definition was gone. Even his teenage self looked more developed. Beefy arms, the six-packs all gone. There was absolutely no body hair, not that he had much before. "Are you not coming with me?"

"I will be there," I said my eyes hungrily roaming over his naked body. "I just have to make that one thing first."

"What thing?" he asked, with a delicious twist of hips. 

"That thing." He should know what I was talking about, we had used it quite often during sex.

"That thing," he repeated, his pupils widening, and his member hardening. 

I looked at his naked behind as he left, enjoying the sight. Then once I was alone I began to gather what I needed to make it.

I was quite aroused but that would make it stronger.

It being a neat little...

Well, the closest thing would be a specialized type of slime familiar. It could also be used as a condom, lubricant, and cleansing agent.

Like a sex toy version of the Swiss Army Knife. 

Tohsakas, like many Magus families, discovered many spells with practical applications during their search for the Root. As long as core Mysteries were not included, some of my ancestors patented them at one or other Magus organizations, such as the Clocktower. The research was, after all, expensive.

Others they kept for themselves.

It seemed that I had some Ether Clump. The clay-like substance was a physical manifestation of ether. It was somehow connected to the First Magic, but I had no real idea how, nor any interest in finding out. What was relevant was that it was an excellent conductor of magical energy.

So, as a base, I used Liquid Clay. Then I needed to add some oils. The oils served two purposes. One was to act as a binding agent since the base was inert. The second was to provide lubrication.

I had chosen carrot seed oil. It was an appropriate choice because of its aphrodisiac properties. But its association with both Mercury and Mars would make it especially potent for the intended use. Of course, the carrot seeds from which this particular oil was made were raised in spiritually potent land.

I poured oil over the liquid clay-like substance and carefully stirred it, using the correct sequence of clockwise and counterclockwise movements until the mass was homogeneous.

I could feel the channel form between me and the mixture, the same as I had with the knife I was forging. I let the energy flow through it.

Then I added a dash of coriander because I was a bit of a romantic. And since we were both Eldar, an association with the Moon would not be amiss.

I ground the mummified tiger penis with pieces of ivory harvested from an elephant graveyard into a fine dust. Then I carefully sprinkled the resulting dust on the mixture.

The fierceness of the tiger and the power of the elephant both linked with lust. This would give potency and animate the familiar.

One last thing, and it would be ready. Rubber tree sap, harvested at midnight, for protection. I poured the milky white liquid over everything, but I didn't mix it.

"From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire." With those words from Rober Frost's poem, I catalyzed the mixture with the proper spell.

It changed color to orange-red and began to glow with inner fire.

Adding the fire element had given the body of familiar properties of consumption and purification.

It was nearly ready. One last thing. I had to bind and animate it. That required blood.

I took a hollow golden needle and pierced my vein. I let the blood flow. Red drops fell on the mixture, which drank it greedily.

"For the soul of the flesh is in the blood," with that aria taken from Bible, I completed the work, and my familiar awoke.

At the same moment, the channel opened by making it closed, and I could feel the enchantment settle and take its final form.

It was nebulous.

There were things that needed to be done during the making of objects to help the enchantment settle in the desired form, but although I knew them for forging and, strangely, for making lembas, creating familiars was not something my Elf self had done before.

But the slime familiar was complete.

And it worked fine...

It shouldn't have.

I was not a proper World for it to work. But then I suspected it would. After all other magecraft, I tried in the forge also achieved their purpose. Also, this was the second time this happened. After all, I used rock crystals to heal in the previous World.

A mystery that I suspected was tied to my Sorcery. I wouldn't be able to solve it in any reasonable time frame so I shelved it for later. I had other things to do now. Archer has been waiting long enough.

I touched the goo, and by my order, it crawled upward. First up to fingers, then hand, then arms, and then spread all under my clothes on my bare skin.

It was as if I had gained luminescent tattoos. Which, because slime was sensitive to both temperature and magic energy, mirrored my magic circuits.

It didn't quite run to my bedroom.

Archer was laying in bed waiting for me. Sprawled naked he was provocatively gripping his hard cock. Like raising a banner in a challenge to the approaching army. 

"Finally," he said with an attractive smirk, "I thought you had gotten distracted again."

"And what could be so distracting," I said, stripping. I've done slowly, lingering on each piece of clothing I removed... 

"Your Workshop?" He stretched, naked showing me his body better. What a nice invitation. "I was tempted to wait to show it to you after we fucked."

"And if you have done so, we wouldn't have this nice toy to play with," I said, tracing my newly made familiar with my fingers. That it crawled on my naked skin in a pattern that started at my nipples, went over my abbs, through my belly button, and finally ended over my hard cock must have been a coincidence. "Still such wicked thoughts should be punished.". 

"Punished?" His voice was thick with arousal. I knew that we were on the same page. "Punished how?"

"A spanking to start." I was quick to answer.

"A spanking," he then added, "Is that the limit of your cruelty?"

But his actions belied his words. He turned around, standing on all fours on the bed, presenting his ass to me. His legs were spread a bit apart, letting me see a glimpse of his hard member. He was asking for it.

"Well I am currently short on whips and chains," I said as I approached him, "But on other hand, now I do know how to make them."

"Such wicked…" And then interrupted his words with the first spank. Such a firm ass. He grunted and then added "knowledge."

I was no longer in the mood for words.

One strike after another. Slow at first but then I began to pick up speed.

His ass turned fist light pink, then ever so slowly darkened to deep red. Yet he held his position, only moving his right hand back to his cock, stroking himself.

It felt as good as I had imagined it would be.

I stopped and began to run my finder of his now literally hot ass cheeks. With thought slime crawled over my hands, covering my right hand's index finger, and spreading vine-like tendrils all over my left.

Connecting to senses familiar without consciousness or soul was easy.

I could have even totally transferred my consciousness into it, but couldn't imagine a situation that would call for it.

The slime lacked both sight and hearing, but it did have an excellent sense of touch and taste, and also heat sense and proprioception, the sense of its own body. It was more sensitive to magical energy than me, but that didn't say much.

So now I could feel my lover through the slime that covered my hands. Slick slime.

With my left hand, I joined him in stroking his cock, and let the tendril spread all over his member and balls.

With my right, I slowly pushed my index finger into his hole. It was tighter than I remembered, but then again our new bodies were new to this.

I could taste it all. It could be said that I was eating his ass with my finger, while simultaneously licking his cock. The wonders of magecraft. 

He soon removed his right arm, leaving his cock solely to me.

I moved my left hand in slow teasing movements while being more entering with the finger of my right. I had slime thickened slowly on my finger, making it fatter, to help with stretching.

I covered the second finger with slime, and added it, stretching his hole further.

"Ready?" I asked.

"I was ready five minutes ago!" he glowered.

That earned him a few more spanks, while I had slime's tendrils spread all over my cock, until my member was completely covered, slick, and glowing with ruby light.

I pushed in.

I missed that. But I must say, three months of abstinence did make it much better. Not that I was in any mood to repeat the experience. 

He was so very tight. So good.

We fell into a familiar rhythm. Our Elven bodies might have been new to sex, but our minds weren't.

I had slime tendrils claw all over his cockhead, and then made small tentacles that wiggled into his piss slit. The slime familiar could feed on any organic matter, and some even devoured some inorganic substances, but it fed best on sexual fluids, and I had to lose even a single drop of his delicious cum.

There were no words while we fucked. That was by mutual preference. Neither of us was much into dirty talk.

I was near and I could sense that he was too. Synching orgasms had become a habit since it was useful in many sex-based rituals, and thus we did even where there was a clear need.

I was cumming!

And from familiar, I could sense that he was too.

At that very moment, I could feel a new bond form between us. It was familiar and yet different. Like many things in this World.