The Call of the Beachwick

Chapter 11: The Temple Deep in the Jungle

Kesi strode to the train station, her head held high. The emerging version of herself reveled in its newfound liberation, savoring every moment of the metamorphosis. With a confident stride, she moved with a purpose, carrying herself in a way that demanded attention. The bounce of her hair echoed the rhythm of her bold spirit, ranging from daring allure to an unmistakable attitude; a declaration of her unapologetic persona. For the first time in her life, Kesi only cared about herself, and she didn't see that changing anytime soon.

By the time she reached the train station, a small group of people had already started to gather for the train's arrival. Instead of standing with most of the crowd, she calmly walked through them, letting them part before her. A hush overtook the group, but Kesi said nothing. Instead, she allowed them to admire her beauty before finding a seat on a chair across from a male and female satyr who looked to be a few completions older than her. Wanting to see how far she could stretch her new persona; Kesi slowly crossed her legs high, the slit in her dress revealing a glimpse of exposed skin, as she leaned back into her seat.

"Afternoon," she said, focusing solely on the male.

The male's confidence wavered, stumbling over his words, while the female's gaze bore into her with disdain.

"Copper and gold day the Goddess has given us, don't you think?" she asked.

The male nodded vigorously, but his agreement only earned him a dirty look and a small smack across the chest.

"You don't believe that drivel," the female responded to the male.

IKesi turned her full attention to the female, giving her a once-over. As she observed what she perceived to be nothing more than an average woman, unremarkable in any way, a subtle grimace marred her features. The corners of her mouth curled downward slightly in unmistakable disgust.

"Drivel? You should be more thankful to the giver of life. Each day is a gift, and each opportunity is a chance to thank her for all that she has done. Without the goddess, you would be as useless as rust-crusted cogwheels left in the pouring rain," Kesi remarked.

The female rolled her eyes. "Hogwash. Nothing more than myths to keep the people in their place. Steam is the only ruler around here."

"That is the saying," Kesi nodded in agreement. "Steam is king. Our lives ruled by the power of steam, controlled by the Syndicate, all of which ignores the reality of the Goddess. I suppose you would rather bow down to both of those, before you would bow down to the one who could destroy your soul? Not much of a life though."

The female stood, visibly offended by Kesi's statement. Kesi could see her nostrils flare and brows furrow. She herself smiled with glee. 

"Listen here, you harlot. Some of us have to live in the real world. So why don't you take your skanky butt back to the docks and leave us working people alone."

Kesi slowly crossed her legs the other way, kicking them up in the process. "You think you're better than me? How sad. We are all equal in the Goddess's eyes."

"Of course, I'm better than you," the woman huffed. "I'm a second-class engineer in the textile district. You could only dream of doing what I could do." Kesi smile, widened into a toothy smile. This was turning out better than she thought. "Well, then let's see about that. The power of my Goddess against your engineering. I'll even give you the upper hand."

"What do you mean—," the woman started to say, but Kesi stood up from her seat and sat back down on the male satyr's lap. 

Deeply, she stared into his chocolate brown eyes before gently caressing one of his horns, boldly allowing her hand to lightly touch his face. When she was done, she let it fall before resting it on the male's chest and spoke in a low, haughty vibrato. "Engineering...," she said, tracing her hand back up his chest before tapping the man's lips with her forefingers. "Or the Goddess?"