Teuila fairly rockets around the city with the two of us in tow, and even Dawn seems to be smiling at how excitable she is. Berinon is getting a slow start apparently, but opens his shop to us anyway. Teuila asks about a mud-treated sleeping-bag big enough for two, and sure enough, he’s got one that’ll do. Berinon asks for no payment, since, well, Teuila dumped a truckload of wealth into his hand the other day. Dawn looks a little perplexed that Berinon is just letting Teuila grab and pack stuff away into her packs.
Teuila calls out, “Dawny, do you want anything from here? We’ve got you covered. We, um, Berinon knows us. Right Berry?”
Berinon begins to try to form words, fails, rolls his eyes, turns around and walks into the back of his shop in the span of a moment. Teuila starts giggling like a madbeast at the interaction, and I barely contain my own laughter to stop myself from joining her. Dawn looks perplexed, but they shrug, and dig through some of the more armored looking apparel. Mostly belts and joint pads. They also pick up a stealthily-dark tunic that they add over the top of all their currently worn tops. They look less anachronistic now.
Teuila calls out for Berinon a few times, and tries to peek around the corner without actually entering the back of his shop. She pouts, thinking she’ll have to leave without saying goodbye. When he steps back through the hidden doorway behind the pelt, Teuila leaps over his countertop to give him a tight hug. She also tries to plant a smooch on his cheek that he’s desperately trying to pull away from. Teuila grins derpily as she elates, sounding her glee in that single laughing squee. I notice some canteens, and an empty scabbard that seem incredibly high quality, so I strap those to my own gear. Then I fish out some Can’Z’aasian gold and leave it where Berinon will eventually stumble upon it, without being able to refuse it.
Teuila asks, “So, where’s the sweet shop, or where are the sweet shops? What kind does The Brook have? I know of sweets from our weird database brain things, but like, we never even had sugar or chocolate or anything back home. I’m excited to try stuff out!”
Dawn mutters something about Teuila not needing any sugar under their breath, and I barely stifle my laugh in time to avoid cluing in Teuila. Te is an excitable personality, and she’s a vibrant, vigorous, vivacious woman whose exuberance basically knows no bounds, and she has the physical attributes to remain as active as she likes, all day every day. But yeah, I can imagine Dawn would want to keep Teuila away from caffeine, and perhaps things with way too much sugar in them. Heh.
I kind of like Dawn, but I’m also a bit leery. We’re not really catering to their needs and wants. At best, if we happen to stumble into leads for our own quests, those may possibly segue into leads that Dawn might be able to use. All the while, we’re acting in the ways we always would, enjoying the world in the way we would. Dawn in the meanwhile is stuck tagging along with a couple of lovestruck goons. I’m not sure how to make that any better for them though.
As we browse the lane of shops, waiting for certain ones to open that Dawn recommends, I’m reminded of a question I’ve always pondered about Teuila. I ask, “Te, did you ever find out why your bond with gravity works easier one way than the other, or like, what it’s really about?”
Teuila’s answer drops my jaw, “Oh yeah, easy peezy, like, increasing gravity is harder because it’s like asking a muon to un-decompose back into a boson. I mean, the particle knows the other particle exists, and certain ones can even tell that they once were one, but you try growing back hundreds of times your own mass in an instant. The whole slowing or stopping gravity thing is even simpler, I just kind of ask the Higgs field to take a break, or firmly request, depending on how much I want it to shove off. Y’know? Like, Newton was kind of being a bozo calling it gravity, since gravitas was more to do with like, the weight of an argument rather than an object. Not sure if that was just him being humorous, or what. Pondus might have been more appropriate. Maybe. I’m not an etymologist.”
I blink slowly, several times, more and more rapidly. I’ve never thought Teuila was dumb, but, but I barely even understand what she’s on about. I always thought her area of expertise lay in things like exploring, adventuring, exercising, maybe even kinesthetics. Like, I think she’d probably make a good health and physical education instructor, or um, physical rehabilitation specialist. Yet, here’s this, just now. That’s particle physics, and not like, long-known particle physics, that’s stuff from recent decades that isn’t exactly pop culture yet. Wait. Recent decades? Pop culture knowledge of particle physics? What? Ugh, stupid fakeworld. I’m about to try to come up with any kind of response, when Teuila beats me to the punch.
She blushes and twirls her hair beneath her hood, “I um, sorry for nerding out. I know that’s kinda your thing. Sciencing things out.”
I’m astounded, and happy, and impressed, and all the more in love as I respond, “Te, Teuila, never, ever, never ever ever be sorry for being who you are, for, for nerding out, or anything! You’re amazing! I friggin’ love you so much!”
Since Teuila paused our mad rush through the town’s streets to have this moment with me, while Dawn is still caught by one wrist, I’ve got time. I flit forward and wrap my hands about Teuila’s hips to lift her into the air to spin her around. She instinctively drops her own gravity, and Dawn’s, to nothing as I spin her about. I’m also accidentally spinning Dawn in the air along Teuila’s outstretched arm.
I chuckle with chagrin when I realize I’m swinging Dawn about in the air like a flail attached to Teuila. I set the both of them down and blush madly-wildly. Teuila slugs me playfully in the shoulder, then kisses me on the cheek. Dawn follows suit. Slugging me that is, not kissing me. I think we both assume that would be pretty weird. Also, Dawn’s punch is a bit less playful and a bit more annoyed than Teuila’s. Dawn looks furiously embarrassed, without being able to portray many of the biological responses of blushing or embarrassment.
I cough, “Koff, erm, sorry Dawn. I, um. I just love her. Y’know? Sorry about that.”
Dawn looks anywhere other than meeting Teuila’s gaze or mine as they respond, “Sure Rej, whatever, no biggie. Just, maybe give a pal some warning next time before you drag someone flying? You said she was the strong one, but that looked effortless. You two are crazy. I can’t eat or get sick anymore, and I still feel like I’m going to hurl after that spin.”
Te and I both nervously chuckle. Do we bother explaining that it wasn’t me being strong, but Teuila reducing the gravity of everyone attached to her at that moment? I feel like it’s moot at this point. Dawn’s request was clear: warning next time, if at all. I do feel like I’m starting off a possible friendship with Dawn in a horrible fashion. They seem uncomfortable around me to say the least. They don’t seem to mind Teuila as much, but that almost seems to be more of a “okay, she’s crazy, I can put up with that,” kind of feeling rather than Dawn enjoying Teuila’s company. I worry that we’re causing them needless suffering, even if in just minuscule annoying fashions.
We mill about for another half hour or so, chatting about whatever passes any of our fancies. Even Dawn seems to be enjoying themselves as we cover a wide variety of topics. Yet as shopkeeps begin filtering in from their homes, or the ones that live in their shops begin opening their doors, my eyelids droop heavily. Suddenly I’m slumping to my knees in the street while the two catch me worriedly. Teuila says something about maybe asking Keeley or Tiago if we can just rest until we leave town at least, but I shake my head.
My eyes swimming in their sockets, blurring Teuila and Dawn from my vision, I try to focus on Te as I state, “I’ll be fine My-Wings. Just, might need to rest a spell. Just a little bit out here while you do some of the shopping. I wish I had the energy to join you in shopping excitedly. I’m so, so sorry my beloved Wings.”
Teuila slugs me somewhat roughly, playfully, “Hey sh, shut up. It’s fine. I mean, obvee I want you in there too, enjoying things, and, and, and us spending time together and stuff. And I don’t want you sad and tired and hurt or whatever’s going on. But, like, it’s not your fault. Nothing to be sorry for. So, s, so, so just shut up. Okay? Dawn, wou—“
Dawn interrupts, “You got it boss. I can look after Rej. We’ll hang in that alley over there, next to the confectionary. Just enjoy yourself chica. We’ve got it handled. I won’t let them get roughed up while they’re snoozing or whatever, if they need a nap. If anything bigger shows up, I’m sure Rej will be the one taking care of me, honestly.” Dawn’s closing statement elicits a nervous chuckle from all three of us.
Teuila looks back and forth between the two of us, frowns, raises a finger, drops the finger, raises it, drops it, then pouts as she says, “I was going to save the sweets shop for a bit, hoping to make sure Reggie had lotsa room in their belly, but not too long. Ugh, fine. I’ll start over there going back to Berinon’s, then work my way this way. You two be good, okay? I mean, not that I expect you to be bad, or, um, to fool around, and it’s okay if you want to! To, to fool around I mean, not be bad. Though I mean, I can’t say what I’d, err. Dawn I’m sorry, I keep messing up and making you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I’m just going to go over there now. Ugh. I’m sorry.”
Teuila scampers away quickly, steam rising from beneath her hooded poncho in the cool damp air. Dawn helps drag me to the previously mentioned alley, where they break out into laughter for a while. I don’t interrupt, as I’m glad they seem to be enjoying themselves. Plus, I’m too tired to do much interacting anyway. My head lolls to one side, and Dawn makes certain I’m sitting on my heels, leaning against the building. They doff their own cloak and ball it up to help support my head. My eyes sleepily roll around in their sockets as I gaze up at Dawn questioningly.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
With their cloak off, the tight cotton tops that compress their breasts are a fair deal more noticeable about what they’re being used for. Still, Dawn catches my gaze when I try to meet their eyes, and says, “Your boss is a card Rej. Teuila, she’s, she’s something else. If I were alive, a long, long time ago. I, I think I’d have liked to have her as a friend. I’m glad you two have that. I’ve been starting to piece stuff together about what I’ve heard across the town since we met, heck, since you showed up in The Brook. Plus the things you’ve told me that make no sense.”
I’m a bit confused, and it’s plain on my face as Dawn continues to explain, “You’re from another world. Like, I never got the sense that you lied to me. I’ve got pretty good senses for things like that, even if my physical ones fritz out sometimes. I just wasn’t sure how much was serious, and what was a bit of exaggeration, or metaphor. You were trying to tell me something about my soul a while back. I’m curious now, and, well, I guess I trust you, for some reason. Like, a lot. More than I should for a stranger from a strange land.”
My brain has a massive BSOD for a moment, when I come back to reality, I can tell Dawn’s expecting me to share something. What were we talking about? Oh! Right! Their soul! I start to whisper, “Dawn, your soul, it, it looked shredded, it was outside of your body, like, like barely hanging onto you. Worse, it looked like there was some ethereal wispy vapor of it fading away into the sky. Like, like it was draining away. I, I’ve never really seen souls before, I don’t have the aura-vision stuff that everyone else from back home has. I just have some things from this staff here. Feel free to give it a look-see, just don’t try to cast anything from it, please. Some of the stuff is really dangerous.”
Dawn turns the shrunken staff-handle over in their hands, over and over until they accidentally extend it. The staff shooting to full length in their hands causes them to recoil and drop it. Despite my sluggish nature, and tiredness, my danger wraps guide my hand to snatch it out of the air, shrink it, and stow it away in a smooth motion before it hits the ground. I don’t think it could accidentally set off any magic just from falling a couple feet, but I also don’t want to risk having it break. I’m about to explain more about what little I know about souls, when another wave of lethargy washes over me. I barely spy Teuila skipping by the alleyway as she heads to another shop, apparently having finished with Berinon’s leatherworks. I really wish I had time and energy to pick his brain about enchanting.
Teuila stops by for only an instant to check on us, and Dawn shoos her away with a bit of friendly banter insistent that we’re fine. I think Dawn also intimated that she wanted some privacy with me for a bit, which I’m sure is giving Teuila all the wrong ideas again. We were just getting onto the topic of Dawn’s soul is all. I don’t think they’re comfortable having that be a multi-party conversation just yet. Especially since I barely know what I’m talking about.
I hear a mixture of Spanish and quickly rattled-details from around the corner of the alley we’re resting in. I’m fairly certain that it must be Tiago, although any number of people in town might be from Malta Verde, or speak Spanish. I’m still fairly sure it’s Tiago, mostly because I recognize his voice, and his feared subject-matter.
Tiago worries aloud, “I’m fairly certain they’ve a persistent, perpetual malady, after what the others in town have told me. Plus, they asked about dragon hearts in such an odd manner. I mean, you know, we looked into it together.”
I can feel Tiago frowning as he continues, “I’m worried darling, they’re children in adult bodies, young adult bodies, with the breadth and depth of knowledge that come with adulthood, but the lifespans of children so far nonetheless. They’ve died once already, and seem to be racing headlong towards doing it again. Por que este asi. Harriet is out of her mind tossing them aside like this. I honestly believe that you’re right, based on those books, Reggie must have absorbed the dragon’s heart somehow. It might be all that’s keeping them alive at the moment. Dios, por que este asi! I, I need to weep for them, to pray for them, to call on the old ways, the spirits, to, to do something, anything!”
George, Tiago’s husband, responds, “I know love, I know. These adventurers from beyond, they, well, they’re beyond me, that’s for certain. Probably beyond all of us. Maybe Harriet knows something we don’t. She’s never intentionally doomed someone before. I know she’s acting odd, but I’ve had a good think about it, and I’m almost certain she has good reasoning. I mean, it’s Harriet. When has she ever given anything less than her best and her all?”
Tiago chuckles dryly, quite a feat, considering the acid rain, “Hah, true enough I suppose. The old hen even sharks travelers out of just a few coins every eve to add to the town treasury, always risking only her own wealth. But I just can’t comprehend it. They, they need us! Or, well, maybe not us, but someone! How can we turn our backs on them when they’ve just saved our ancestors, dios, our entire town?”
I can feel George nod as the pair pass the alleyway, “I agree, obviously I agree. I don’t like it or pretend to understand it one bit. Still, that passage about the hearts. It seems more fairytale than fact. Should we track down the duo? How would that go? Trying to convince the not-dragonslayers to consume more dragon hearts to keep one of them alive?”
Tiago palms his forehead in exasperation, “Dios no, I suppose not. I cannot see that going well.”
Tiago speaks in a mockery of his own voice, “‘Hello friends, I know how mortified you were at the thought of ever ending a dragon’s life, now we’re pretty certain you’ll need to end at least two more to survive the season, or year at best.’”
He pauses for a breath, a short dry laugh barely escaping his lips before he continues, “Can you imagine? I honestly think the poor dear would rather die than hunt down dragons for such a, a, a feat. But, but the books. Reggie should have nearly limitless vigor right now, hardly able to sleep, let alone passing out on a whim. I’m, I’m so certain that they’re being barely kept alive.”
Tiago and George continue to converse about my seeming predicament until they’re beyond earshot. Beyond even my impressive earshot. Dawn appears to be hearing the entire conversation with me, they do have some form of enhanced senses after all. Teuila is still in the store, likely conjuring her purchases to her inventory, but I don’t think she’s ever had quite the super-hearing that I have had, or that Dawn seems to possess. Dawn looks down at me worriedly, saying nothing. I don’t know if they can tell I’m parsing the conversation at the same time. Should I step out and confront the husbands? They’re so kind to have us, me, on their minds. I don’t know the right thing to do here. Tiago is right though, I’d rather die than slay more noble mythical beasts on the off-chance that touching their hearts keeps me alive. I guess if we happen to find two more evil dragons before the season is out, well, yeah, I’ll try to absorb their hearts or something.
Ugh, now that I’ve thought about it, and heard about it, I’m sure we’ll come across at least two more evil dragons before the year is out. Just effing fantsatic. Heh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to access my FFS on demand, my frozen frost shielding/storms. I’d certainly be dropping them around like bombs, eff bombs. But, well, yeah. I’m sure the next two will be nowhere near as easy as Kozzurth to take down. She was old, lazy, bloated, cocky. Hell, knowing my luck, my soul will radiate some sort of warning to other dragons that I’ve slain and absorbed the heart of one of theirs. The warning will probably even come with the detail that I beheaded Kozzurth from the inside, so they’ll know not to risk opening wide. Ugh. Stupid fakeworld fiction genre savviness. Ugh to all the writers of fiction in that world for coming up with memes and cliches.
Also, bleh, the idea that I need to consume hearts in any fashion whatsoever is gross. It makes me feel like some sort of vampire, or, or, loup garou, or wendigo, or Spawn of Ammut, or something. That whole cryptozoology shtick of mine. Mythozoology? Maybe, I’m not quite certain. I’ll stick with the joke’s original name though.
Dawn politely coughing breaks the silence, and me from my reverie. They ramble, “Rej, I, I’m not sure how much you just heard. I—“
I nod to Dawn, “All of it. At least everything George and Tiago, the Saint, have said since they made it to this street. They’re right. I won’t do it unless I’m forced to. I don’t like taking any intelligent lives.”
Dawn raises their hands placatingly, “Hey, far be it from me to tell anyone how or why they should live longer. Y’know? Are you going to tell Boss though? She seems like the sort that would hunt land sea and sky to find you dragon hearts.”
Dawn’s statement evokes a single snorted laugh from me, “Hah, you’re absolutely right. Te would scour the ends of the region, perhaps the entire planet, on the off-chance that Tiago and George’s assumptions are correct. I’ll tell her what they talked about later sometime, when we’ve got nothing better to do. Maybe they’re just wrong though. Tiago didn’t identify what kind of malady he thought I might have, just something persistent, enduring. It may literally just be that I’m malnourished and haven’t gotten much sleep since being resurrected.”
Dawn frowns, “About that.”
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for them to continue, but Teuila’s joyous return interrupts any further conversation. My introspection and worry drip away as Teuila leaps into my arms, despite my position sitting on my heels against the building. I’ll tell her later, when we’re bored and have nothing else to talk about. I’m sure she’s excited to share her purchases with us. Oof, her fist cramming sweets in my mouth pretty much guarantees my assumption. Hah.
Mm, delightful. Uh, the sweets, not Teuila’s hand. Err, though that’s not un-delightful itself either. Bluh, this train of thought is getting weird. Teuila’s grinning like a loon, and I can virtually hear her chuckling at my train of thought. It’s my imagination though, just reminiscing about times when we were psychically bonded. I know how she’d react if she were in my head. Right now she’s just happy and excited to share a new discovery with me. It’s an aspect of our relationship that will always fill me with extreme delight. I guess we should start making progress towards the docks, and at least get to know the ship that will be delivering us from The Brook, and Southern Aasimovia in general, to the rest of Rayileklia.
Teuila shoves a holster onto my belt, and shows a hidden one that’s now belted into a portion of her giant backpack’s outside pouches. They perfectly fit and conceal the staff in its shrunken state. I can unsnap the top or the bottom to draw out the staff, or let it drop into my left hand instantly. Instead of having to untie it or unsling a leather thong from my entire body. That’s quite handy, convenient even. Teuila’s dragging us towards the docks as I ponder the sheathes.
I’m about to thank Teuila when Te says, “Hope you like ‘em Dink. Oh hey look, our boat.”
Huh, yet more oddities as we approach the pier containing The Drake. Captain Tim is nowhere to be found at the moment, but he’s likely preparing for the voyage, buying supplies. A certain supply that I did not expect to be in use in fact. Likely coal, or some other form of fuel. That is a steamboat. A late nineteenth century, to early twentieth century, fully-steel, steamboat. Ugh, quit it with the Earth centuries and crap.