Aspiring Romance.

Lilith’s P.O.V.

The Tower, to push deeper into the spiraling realms of its infinity, is to climb till death due us part.

When I fell into the tower, I did not expect this.

I wake to find my body lighter than normal, the sun shining down through the leaves of the canopy from trees miles above me.

I sit up under the shade, the light breeze cooling my skin.

I look down at my now baggy clothes and reach down and tug at my pants that previously fit well, and then I see my once rough hands; they are now smaller than normal.

I knit my eyebrows and then gasp as I look down at my chest.

“What... Oh, for fuck's sake…”

My now lighter voice and pair of breasts hanging from my chest are evidence enough that with the summoning to the tower came a change of appearance.

I’ve heard that this happens every now and then, once in a blue moon, and of course it would happen to me.

I sigh.

No point in bitching about it now. What’s done is done.

I stand and look around; the tall, scale-covered trees fill the horizon.

Come to think of it, isn’t this…

I roll up my sleeve and see the floor number printed on the skin of my wrist.

F89

My face pales as I reach down for the bag and sling it over my shoulder. Inside are basic survival necessities from my family.

Fuck…

The briefings said drops this high don’t happen, and nobody who has landed this high has lived.

There are no immediate threats, so that means I'm in something else's territory.

I start scouting the area, and nearby I see the trails of a recently traveled caravan route, and after a while traveling, I do see a gate of the scaled logs.

Tribal territory should be safe enough.

Okay, so that’s the tribe’s gate that my grandmother has been trading with.

I need to look presentable at least.

I follow the sound of nearby running water and find a nice flat of rocks surrounding a shallow pond being fed by a waterfall of crystal-clear water.

I lay my bag on the rocks and drop my spellbook inside the bag as well.

I look down at my baggy clothes, slowly stripping the fabric off me, first the pants and then the underwear that no longer fits. And then the sweater that I wore for the colder climates of the lower floors.

Stepping into the pond, I shiver at its colder water pushing past my thighs and then waist, gasping as it stops just shy of my stomach. I look down at my reflection and see a face unfamiliar to me.

Raven hair and azure-colored eyes, with a pale face dusted with light brown freckles.

I walk over to the waterfall and wash the dirt and leftover leaves out of my hair. I close my eyes. It doesn’t feel uncomfortable or weird.

I guess that's the upside of how my soul is supposed to look.

Ugh, my siblings are never going to let me live this down.

I let the water run over my body, feeling the unfamiliar curves with my hands.

I jump at the sound of rustling leaves, and with wide eyes I see a scaled humanoid sitting next to my bag.

I sigh, relieved it's just someone from the tribe, and I return to washing.

“Usually those are grateful for my presence. You’re interesting for sure. Guess a woman of your beauty has other standards.” His words tease.

I freeze at his deep voice.

I shiver; chills run my arms and legs as I turn back to face him. I wade through the waters and close the distance between me and him.

I lay my head against the rocks and look up at him playfully smirking.

“You think I'm pretty?...” I trail off as his eyes widen at my words.

"I..." He clears his throat and adjusts his shoulders. "How can you?..."

I giggle softly.

"Understand you? I have no clue myself." I turn back to the waterfall and step under the rushing currents, letting it flow over my body.

“Your aura... Why is it familiar..." Then he clicks his tongue, leaning close to the pond’s edge with his clawed feet swishing in the water.

“Would you happen to know Arealia?” I ask. "She’s my grandmother. Aren't you an envoy from the tribe we have been trading with?”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“From the tribe, yes, an envoy? No, here come follow me after you’re…clothed.” He winks and stands before disappearing behind a boulder, leaving me to myself.

I make my way over to my bag, stepping up and out of the water as flames alight in my hands and the water steams off my body, though my hair remains somewhat damp.

I redress and tie the pants tighter around my waist with one of the basic things given to me before being summoned to the tower from my family's treasury, a rope from my bag.

I follow where he left to, a crack in between the boulders big enough for someone to squeeze through.

I step through, and he’s on the other side.

He doesn’t hesitate to grab my forearm and leads me through the trees to a different entrance than the one I saw earlier; guards stand and salute him when we approach.

“Open up, I’m taking her to Father; she’s an ally.”

The guards hesitate before looking at each other and then opening the small side gate.

He drags me through the gate, and the sun breaks the canopy, and on the other side is a sprawling city all built out of logs and bricks. All different shades of Dragonkin crawl the city streets; most look our way, and almost none say anything.

Upon walking up the main step of the central temple, looking at the building, I see a towering figure dressed in the same blackened scales as his son, the one accompanying me.

"Son...who...why...you know...” He steps forward and then squints his eyes at me. “Arealia?”

His son shakes his head.

I step forward and bow.

“I’m her grands-" My eyes widen as I clear my throat. "Granddaughter... and it’s my first time here. Apologies for intruding.”

The father's eyes widen as he steps back initially.

"How...is it a first-timer knows our language?"

Which is my problem, because the briefings said nobody could cross the language barrier; there has to be something else at play here that both I and the tribe are missing.

Shit.

This also makes me a target among the other families...

"Intriguing, well, nevertheless I'll have the elders look into this, see if there is anything in our records...you're the granddaughter of our protector, so you can stay here—"

The son interrupts his father rubbing the back of his neck.

“I may have stumbled upon her bathing so...”

My face flushes beet red. I turn and glare at him.

Only for his father to sigh audibly and rub his forehead.

"Alright, I’ll send your sisters to deal with this...”

Wait, what… What am I missing?

I turn to the father, but before I can speak, three lime-green-scaled women pull me away.

“Wait…what…” I look up at the older, darker green-scaled sister.

She looks down at me.

“I’m so glad you reciprocated and approached my brother! He finally found a mate.” She giggles.

The world crashes around me as I remember one thing from the years of classes with my family’s trainers.

“Each floor has its own customs and culture.”