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An Age of Mysterious Memories
B 6 C 18: Spectacles

B 6 C 18: Spectacles

I’m a bit worried. Is hunting when we’ve begun a war, and we know there was an attack inside the territory, really a wise choice? I ask, “Kagired? Sponge? Do you just want some meat? I’ve created a massive larder beneath Mount Verdimenn”

Kagired, the otherwise nondescript slightly purple-toned man in an unassuming white hooded cloak flashes me a half smile and shakes his head as he guffaws. He explains, “Nothing compares to some fresh, steaming goat, or deer. ‘Sides, save whatever stuff for siege conditions. Our Ladyship said you’re building contingencies on contingencies. Be well Schism.”

Kagired leaves without further ado. Huh. It’s weird hearing that Kinzul discusses her faith in me. It makes it more real somehow. I mean, it makes sense to advise and strategize with everyone, especially when there are sweeping changes coming. World changing, game breaking changes.

Luni, Teuila and I head out of the infirmary, while I ponder the faith Kinzul displays in me, not just to me, but others. I’m honored in a lot of ways by her faith in me. Moreso now that I realize that she truly trusts me enough to enact my plans and share her belief in them with her followers. It feels like Kinzul’s putting a lot of eggs in one basket though, this basket, my basket. I mean, me. Luni seems to stiffen at my train of thought, so I flash her a glance, but she waves it off.

The three of us make our way towards the library. We alternate talking in meatspace and thinkspace, still working to resolve our issues, running into pockets of intense emotions that take us from joy and laughter, to near-bitter sorrow and back. I sense a presence at the edge of my silent sonar that seems to be keeping its distance specifically from Teuila and Luni. When I’m pretty sure I’m correct, as much as I’m loathe to ask for a moment in private, and it breaks my heart to do, I motion for Lu and Te to hang back for a moment.

I round the two corners to meet the figure that had been keeping an eye on me somehow, from a distance, through walls. It makes me wonder how two assailants got past her to where we were interrogating Tairkul, but perhaps she’d only just arrived, to check in with Kinzul. Incredibly lucky for us, since I couldn’t figure out how to escape Tairkul’s mind and defend myself.

I take in the sight of her, uncloaked, unarmored, and wearing barely more than bandages. I fight the war within myself to not overreact to her vulnerable, lithe, gorgeous appearance. I notice something I’d never noticed before. The slate-gray of her scales seems almost uneven, as if there’s a shine to them along their deepest, hardest-to-reach edges. I’m also able to perceive that her scales aren’t just soft, they’re almost fuzzy in their smoothness, as if coated in a dust, or fur. I’m able to more intimately take in the most minute details of every inch of her, despite my mind’s desire to focus on certain aspects of attraction.

She flashes me a curious glance with an upward flick of her scaled, scarred, left eyebrow, checking on my mental state. Trying to keep the mood light, I start “You understand how it was a bit cheeky, right?”

The minute, quick, temporary furrowing of her brow as it flicks upwards towards the center in curiosity tells me she’s not quite certain what I’m referring to, so I continue, “An assassin approaching me with a pillow, as I lay recovering in an infirmary bed. A pillow which she then proceeded to place upon my face.”

I can’t help the wry grin that spreads further across my face as I speak, and as I witness the mix of expressions that Errissa wears during and after the dawning of the realization. The worry and apprehension across her face had momentarily made me feel sort of bad for starting off the way I did. However, once she understood that I’m teasing her, the startled combination of expressions gave way to one of wit and humor. Her torso silently heaves ever so slightly in laughter twice, as she places one delicate hand in front of her soundless mouth.

Errissa then takes a moment to make sure we’re both in a neutral state as she points to the pocket containing the note mentioning my friends. I parse her meaning, so I offer, “We’re doing better, working through things. Like I mentioned, I knew I overreacted, but couldn’t help it. I was in a trauma headspace. I’m moving away from it now.”

The facial tics and twitches that hint at Errissa’s absorption of the details, and her being pleased that I’m feeling better are so minute, that I realize anyone else might think she’s not reacting at all. Others wouldn’t sense her to be as wildly, wonderfully expressive as I find her to be. Does she appear placid to everyone else, at all times, because they don’t bother to make note of the fine, minute adjustments in her features? Could others not read right now, that she’s asking if there’s anything she can do for me with but a glance?

I gnaw on my lip as my eyes fall into the trance of gazing into her quicksilver orbs, those alluring pools of shifting, swirling, liquid mercury. I don’t know how to tell her that, right now, I want to prove to myself, and perhaps to her, that I don’t care that I was hit by a whammy, that I’m attracted to her anyway. I want to take back my earlier avoidance of affection, and let the passion produce sparks between us. I feel a twinge of guilt that Teuila and Luni are standing wordlessly nearby, quite possibly forced to hear my internal monologue if they haven’t toggled off the passive perception of my thoughts. I don’t want them to think I’m doing this out of some juvenile sense of revenge, or—.

Luni telepathically sends, “No, we don’t think that Reggie sweety. It’s okay. You like her, a lot, and it’s complicated. We get it. Teuila’s sorry that she made it more complicated, and she wishes you could just enjoy it, without having to fight and second guess yourself. She really is so, so, so sorry Air.”

I sigh softly at the thought, wishing I could absolve Teuila entirely, wishing this had never become an issue. I almost want Te to witness a passionate moment between me and Errissa just to prove that it’s okay, that I’m attracted to Spymaster for a myriad of reasons beyond the at-a-glance physical attraction I’d felt enhanced by the Latent. Speaking of, she’s catching my emotions swing all over the place, so she points to her head, and then my forehead, while wearing a curious expression.

I nod, informing Errissa that yes, some psychic talking is going on. She points to the pouch with the scrap of parchment again, similarly querying if it’s my friends, rather than Lady Kinzul, and I nod affirmative. When she motions to ask if I want her to leave though, I vigorously shake my head no.

I struggle to find words as I ramble, “Spymaster. Errissa. I, glp. We both know that my brain goes to mush around you, and that it’s taking every bit of me to be this coherent right now. Especially to not gaze at your sleek, slender frame. I’m at a point where I’m willing to accept that, and even enjoy it. I’m no longer upset by the idea of being obsessed with, with, um, if, if that, if it wouldn’t, if you wouldn’t be—.”

I continue to try to find a way to ask for Errissa’s consent, interest, and level of comfort or discomfort with my obsession. She easily parses my attempt, and brings me in close. As our lips meet and her tail coils about my wrist. Her tail guides my right hand towards her thigh, her hip, the firmness of her posterior, and finally the nape of her back. Her entrancing, tapered, thin, whip-like tail snakes its way about my left thigh, pulling me gently in order to urge me to take the last step closer that was separating our torsos, keeping our bodies apart. I relent, and the passion between us proceeds to peak.

We each wince in pain occasionally as our hands explore the other’s backs, and our chests are firmly clashing with the space between us, struggling to make it nil, to fit every contour of our bodies together. The hints of suppleness across Errissa’s pectorals are not lost on me as our chests heave in time, both of us breathing heavily around the ongoing kiss. I find myself likening the region to Teuila’s pert, resilient, firm-yet-yielding breast. Blushing as I make the comparison, I believe I break the spell that has me firmly enchanted by Errissa’s eye contact, but at this point, I’ve given myself over to passion, and don’t really want to stop.

While I don’t want to stop the passion, I do want to stop my mind from working to describe how it had assumed Errissa would be flat-as-a-board, due to being a reptile, but the slight curvature that was hidden beneath her tight leathers is all that much more appealing as our chests collide. Even if it’s simply athletic pectorals, my mind can’t stop fixating, and I feel like I’m going to have to break off contact as it feels more and more inappropriate to analyze, compare, and obsess over a detail of her features. Her entrancing, sensual, passionate features. I’m afraid to let myself blink, but I suppose it’s only fair.

As I blink, I’m surprised to find Errissa still in my arms, her own limbs coiled around me, but she immediately ceased her impassioned pawing and hungry kiss. She flashes me a half smile, and a nod, knowing I’m edging towards a headspace I don’t want to be in, and that I’m letting her go, signaling my acceptance of her inevitable departure. We rest our foreheads together for a brief moment, and I can’t help analyzing the soft, almost rough fuzzy feeling of her smooth scales, as if they were previously smoother, but had been ground down and sanded. I can tell that I should have picked up on this detail the night that I first saw her, that I would have picked up on it if it weren’t for the whammy. I’m not certain what the detail hints at however.

Noticing my left thumb brushing along her right bicep, intricately tracing the paths between her scales, leaving my fingertips brushing along the smooth surface of the scales of her inner arm, Errissa flashes me a concerned, curious glance. I think she’s worried that I may have pieced together a clue about her past, but I haven’t figured it out, so I shake my head sadly, rubbing our foreheads side to side. There is the faintest hint of relief that sweeps over Errissa’s stance, posture, and facial features. Either she understands that I don’t understand, or she believes I won’t make a big deal about, or share whatever the clue might have led to.

Sighing, I allow myself to blink again, and when I open my eyes, she’s gone. I wonder if we really have a chance to have anything, or if I should just cherish these brief little moments, as intense as they might be. This one must have been a hell of a spectacle to witness for my silent observers.

The cynic in me is still trying to work out how getting this close to me, sharing in my pain, and supporting me will be exploited to her advantage at some point. I can sense Luni’s trepidation at the thought, and her worry for my emotional wellbeing, if such a possibility could come to pass. Teuila grumps at the idea that someone would intentionally betray me after getting this close.

Returning to my gals, I flash them a weak smile, unsure how to proceed after they were forced to witness that spectacle in psychic silence. Thankfully of course, if there’s anyone I could ever rely on to set a tone, especially a light tone, after a brief, yet dramatic, passionate event, it’s Teuila. She whistles a low note of appreciation, both for the event, and my praise of her, because she’s going to do exactly what I expect.

Te offers up, “Yeah Air, that was intense. I felt like I was the one snogging her. I feel kinda honored. Think I have a chance of convincing her she might as well give me a go too, since I’ve already kissed her by proxy, if I apologize for the thought like you did?”

Pft. I snort a laugh while shaking my head incredulously at Teuila. It strikes me that Errissa knows that Te and Lu were in my head, and she still brought me in for our incredible moment of passion regardless.

Teuila pretends to make dreamy eyes, thinking of Errissa and herself, so Luni begins a Shellcracker Family Slap Fight with Te, by plastering one hand over her face. Te giggles as she chases Lu’s hands away that keep returning. Te catches my glance, and waggles her brow suggestively while leaving one brow raised higher than the other. The expression is obvious in its curiosity, her desire to prompt me to answer her question. She then realizes she used a brow waggle, and her expression darkens as she feels guilty, remembering that it was one of the things she did that led to the pain earlier.

Trying to absolve her, I respond by teasing, “I couldn’t quite say Te. If you think you’ve got a shot, that’s your business, but maybe you should be leery about approaching the assassin who knows about her essentially enthralled consort of a kissing partner being upset by you. Just a thought, in case she doesn’t get how thoroughly I’ve forgiven you. Wink.”

Saying the word wink keeps the mood lighter than the actual wink that I flash Teuila. She struggles to not sink into sadness at the mention of our earlier turmoil, but manages to giggle about the prospects in my response. After a moment, the three of us are chuckling, each of us imagining how it might play out with Teuila approaching the sauntering, sashaying, sensual Errissa in some mood-lit hallway. All of our imaginations make caricatures of the situations, blowing up the possibilities in cartoonish fashions, leaving us giggling all the moreso.

Luni is the first to loose a long sigh that ends her laugh while she rolls her eyes at Teuila. She mutters, “You’re a butt, and a goon. You’ve got perfectly good lips right here to chase.”

Teuila looks at my lips, and nods affirmatively, as if acknowledging the truth of Lu’s statement, but I furrow my brow suspiciously at Luni, almost certain of something else. I had promised her to forget the conversation though, so I let it drop. Thankfully, Teuila was too distracted by the thoughts of several sets of lips to hear my own line of thinking.

I hope we get through the minefield soon, for Lu’s sake. She’s been waiting patiently for a lifetime it seems like. I put the thoughts out of mind as best as I can while we finish walking towards the library. This of course leaves my mind drifting, which of course sends it in only the nearest direction to its obsession. I gulp and blush, flustered as I begin replaying the passionate embrace shared with Errissa only moments prior.

Lu and Te both hesitantly giggle, unsure if they’re allowed to find my embarrassment humorous any longer. I’m not entirely sure if I want them to or not, to be honest. Thinking on it though, it feels like it would chip away at something in our dynamic to take that away from them, something that even I don’t want to lose, despite the awkwardness that embarrassment doles out upon me. I want them to enjoy what they enjoy, and if that’s seeing me bright red, then I can deal with that for them, on occasion.

Loathe to ask them to hang back yet again, I do, as we approach the library. I know Nala’s the antithesis of a social creature at even the best of times. I’d rather have at least a shot at convincing her to come help with the world-breaking projects I’ve got going on below Mount Verdimenn. I should probably ask the Paradox Dormir as well at some point.

Great, thinking of the Dormir reminded me of Iylynila, and now my brain has suddenly glommed onto the idea of sharing passion with Nala, because of Illy’s wild imagination. Crap. I have to go in there and talk to a touch-averse, wonderfully grumpy nerd, while imagining wrapping my arms around her as her tail—. Huff. I shall have words with Iylynila at some point. Luni and Teuila manage to giggle at my train of thought, and I’m glad at least some of us are enjoying it.

I clear my throat several times before hesitantly calling out, “Nala? Are you in, and doing alright enough that I could speak with you? I’ve got some projects, and some non-soulbound equipment I think you might find fascinating.”

Something I’ve said caught Nala’s attention, as she calls back from somewhere within the stacks, “Oh? Do tell.”

Unsure which tack to take, I gnaw on my lips for a moment. Deciding one, I try, “I’ve come into a bit of a new private library, as well as a gift I’d like to give you, in the vault we’ve created below Mount Verdimenn. I’d really love it if you’d be willing to accompany me there, because your intellect would be a vast aid on so many levels with everything going on down there.”

Nala appears near the doorway to the library with a raised scaled brow as she adjusts her glasses. She responds, “This is the first I’ve heard of a vault in such a location. Is this the result of some little ancient ruins dungeon diving adventurer expedition or some such? I’ve no desire to go traipsing into such, despite my archaeological curiosities.”

I can’t help my wry smile and chuckle while I shake my head, answering, “No, no, hah, sorry. We had Lucky, Hunter, create it, because we brought magic from our world to this one, to here, to Rayileklia, and we didn’t want to risk anyone in Mount Solace. Magic, and items, and systems that threaten to bend or break the rules of reality as Rayileklians would know them.”

Nala’s curiosity is piqued enough that she begins to hesitantly step towards me, through the doorway of the library, into the hallway. She motions as if it’s obvious that I should lead onward, while she asks, “Systems in what way? I dare say I do enjoy analyzing abstracts and putting my Latent to use regarding them.”

Gnawing on my lip, and telepathically signaling Luni and Teuila to head out in front of us, so as not to surround Nala or make her uncomfortable, I ponder aloud, “I think it might take a lifetime to answer that question. Even while living it, I was constantly getting it wrong on Can’Z’aas. Imagine if you will, a chart that contained a numerical assessment of all of your attributes, talents, skills, most everything about you that might shape the way you live. Imagine that chart updates magically, and that you can view it in your mind’s eye at any time. Imagine that chart is accompanied by other charts, and indices and table of contents.”

Nala grumps, “If you’re simply telling me that there is some spell or sheet of paper that’s going to try to make me aware of my successes, failings, and shortcomings, I’m quite aware of them, thank you very much.”

Drat, I’m losing her, her conviction to follow me is wavering, so I have to explain quickly, “No, no, not at all, we can’t access our menus, those charts, here on Rayileklia. I started off with a bad example, because it was necessary to give context to the greater picture. Imagine being able to activate skills, as if they were individual Latents, by thinking about the list on those charts. Imagine those skills, similar to individual Latents, could do fantastical things, like storing objects in a transdimensional space, without needing a hyperdimensional haversack for example. Imagine, that with the right applications of those skills, those Latents, you could duplicate objects. Endlessly.”

Nala’s furrowed brow remained dubious right up until the end, but now she’s hooked. She’s hoping I’ll continue, and waiting with bated breath, so I do, “Right, so that’s an overarching example of what we’re doing below mount Verdimenn. It takes a combination of applications of items and abilities that’d we’d gathered over the years, and some of it hinges on a few, well, no, it works, they work. One thing I want however, is to bypass that limitation of not being able to see the charts, those menus, those indices, the tables of contents. It’s difficult to do everything I’d like to accomplish, flying blind, without those mind’s-eye menus.”

Nala crosses her arms such that she can tap her chin with her right hand. She’s astute, and examining the angles as to why I need her, if I’ve already got things working, more or less. She realizes that I don’t exactly need her, just that I want her. The truth that she might not fully know is that I want her to get to experience and marvel at and possibly help us figure out the things we’ve conjured, or could conjure that we don’t know about yet. I like Nala, I really do, her intellect is keen, and she makes constant use of it.

As we’re approaching Mount Verdimenn, I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I’m vaguely worried that nothing is sealed off. It has to be open so that all of the volunteers can begin placing the materials in the appropriate warrens, to create the resources that will eventually become respawning nodes. I know this, and I’m the one that ordered it, but I’m still on edge. My main worry is the access to the shop, but thankfully, perhaps a bit worriedly in and of itself, Vylon and Vyela are standing guard between the hidden bunker entrance, and the hallway that leads to our private vaults.

I know I couldn’t ask for more worthy protectors of what might eventually turn out to be our most precious asset, but I really wished it could have been someone else. I hate myself a little bit for that desire, because it’s mostly stemming from my own insecurity at their semi-hostile front that they approach me from. Vylon actually looks like he’s ready to issue the challenge that Lil said I should expect.

I sigh as I wear a threatening glare, calling out before he gets a chance to talk, “Not now Vylon. Today I’m setting up resources and enchanted equipment, tomorrow I’m setting up psychic networks, and the day after, we begin the first offensive of our campaign. Please afford me the courtesy of not putting me in a position to have to decline you.”

Vylon’s expression sours quite harshly for a moment, but he nods acceptingly. Vyela strokes her chin in contemplation of how I handled her brother. She glares at me with an underlying hostility, but doesn’t deign to comment more than a guttural, “Hmn.”

Nala raises a brow curiously at me as I motion everyone, Vylon and Vyela included, into the shop bunker. I ask Luni, “Lu, could you use the phrase while I tend the shop? Welcome my dear patrons, how can I help you today?”

As she places a large wad of hundred dollar bills on the counter, Luni responds, “I’d like something that can help Reggie Shellcracker determine available shop catalogues.”

At the same time, Vylon grumps, “I’d like a noose to escape whatever nonsensical charades these proceedings are.”

I bite my lips as I see the coil of rope forming, with a noose already tied into its end, at Vylon’s request. I can’t help chuckling through puffed cheeks and snorting a laugh. What appears at Luni’s request however, is something we sorely need, and that, of course, came from my shop. Batteries. Empty batteries of all sorts. Car batteries, phone batteries, rechargeable double and triple As and nine volts and Ds and whatever else. I can sense the lack of electrical charge in all of them. Items with a lack, with a missing presence, devoid of something, specifically able to suck up energy, of course, came from Schism’s shop.

We’re one step closer to getting things set up, as I begin motioning for us to take all of the batteries out towards the solar equipment that Lil had set up. I find Lil sitting glumly at the equipment, and he raises his head slightly excited upon hearing my telepathic monologue. As I smile at my best buddy, he chippers up quickly.

We still need charging ports, USB or otherwise, or specialized battery chargers for each set of voltages. I don’t trust myself to be able to regulate the current, its voltage and amperage, well enough, to know exactly how much electrokinetic juice I could pour into a battery. Then again, do I need to? We can always buy more— unless it’s like the rubber duck, and these were the only ones that will ever be in the shop. Crap. Lucky wags his tail at being reminded of the rubber duck that Agwai had used to play with him in the days when he had only recently hatched.

I can’t risk blowing up any batteries until we get access to the shop catalogue, because these things were never even listed in the original interface in Can’Z’aas, there’s every chance they’re a limited supply.

Vylon hangs onto the noose that he accidentally purchased, and I can see him muttering confusedly to himself. Hoping to head off any misunderstandings, I turn to Nala to say, “This is how we are flying blind without those charts I told you about. Vylon can say something about wanting a rope, and the magic of our world will provide a rope, if one exists in a shop inventory that it determines for me, or whichever of us is standing behind the counter. But suppose he had instead asked for an axe? If the system of my world, Can’Z’aas had determined that there was no axe in my shop’s inventory, nothing would have appeared, and none of that green currency would have been spent. Do you understand why I have everyone asking one exact line of the shop system?”

Nala surmises, “You presume that this system you spoke of understands intent, based on the rope already being tied into a noose upon its conjuration, I would agree if there are more, similar data points. You believe that the shops know that you can fit together these strange devices in a way which will grant you access to that which you seek, these charts, these catalogues. Am I to take it, that this system produces some manner of inventory for any individual standing behind the stall’s counter?”

I nod excitedly, grateful that she understood it all so easily as I respond proudly, “Yes, exactly! I knew you’d get it! I’m a bit dismayed to see that nothing was done earlier, but there was some, uh, several tumultuous events over the course of the early day, so I don’t hold it against anyone. I am however incredibly grateful for the protection offered by our Queens. I cannot express enough how important this is.”

Vylon mutters, “T’was a strange request of our Lady that left us standing here, dubious as to the necessity of our duty, when it seemed naught but materials and trinkets. I’m beginning to see the point of this. I’ve no qualms guarding powerful magics, especially ones in direst need of that protection by being in so frail a form as a wooden shop stall. You’ve piqued my curiosity, Schism.”

I try not to allow myself to be surprised at Vylon’s manner of speech. It wouldn’t have been right to assume he was brutish, just because he’s bulky, and was grumpily not speaking when we last met. I have to remember that he is an ancient dragon, and despite outward appearances, he and his sister may have intellects on par with Nala or Kinzul.

I bow towards Vylon and Vyela, unable to think of another way to express my gratitude beyond stating, “Thank you both so very much. This mean worlds to me, literally. I, guess that’s a bit of accidental wordplay, since we, and this magic, are from another world, Can’Z’aas. Sorry.”

The only hint of a reaction between the two Queens is a fraction of a smirk with the barest hint of a chuckle from Vyela. Lil, perhaps confused by why I’m making a big deal of things, and why I’d brought Nala along, asks, “So what’s happening pal? What stage are your plans at? I feel bad always leaving the plans to you, but the stuff you come up with is mega bonkers, mega mega mega bonkers. I want to help, you know I do. Right buddy?”

Smiling at Lil, I nod and anser, “Of course I do pal, of course I do. Nala is here because I want to give her a gift of one of the few items I know that aren’t soulbound to Shellcrackers that make sense for our Curator.”

I don’t even pause as I reconsider my reasoning, “Well, also because I believe I can supply her with the means to begin tinkering with clockwork, over in the room we tossed all the crafting equipment, and because we’ve got the mini library, and because I’m sure she can help curate the selection of rare magical artifacts, and—. Ah, let me just say I find Nala to be invaluable as an ally at this stage of my plans. Lil, can you work at snagging the remaining objects from the stall, and carefully sorting and stacking them over here by your solar equipment? Nala, could you follow me please?”

There’s a hint of flush, the barest coloration that perks up beneath the coppery scales on Nala’s cheeks at my praise. As Vylon, Vyela, Luni, Lil, Lucky, and Teuila remain organizing batteries and cables and solar equipment, I lead Nala towards my private vault, while sticking my hand into the dimensional pouch I’d tied to my own series of belts. It’s currently linked to my hyperdimensional haversack, and Teuila’s massive transdimensional bag. Within, I feel about for the smartphone, and trace its edges, trying to find some manner of reassurance in its presence.

Nala sees me elbow deep in a pouch that’s only about three inches in size, and makes as if to say something, but apparently thinks better of it. She already knows of the existence of such bags, so she isn’t exactly surprised, but it probably looks a bit silly, me leaning to my side and causing half of my arm to disappear into my hip. Leading her to the rack of spectacles, I point at the slightly owlish looking set.

I comment, gifting them to her, “Nala, I’d like you to pick those up, so that I don’t risk them binding to my soul, and I’d be honored if you’d accept them as a gift, whether or not you choose to use them. From my analysis of the runes enchanted into them, they somehow conjure an incorporeal copy of yourself that has some semblance of autonomy, but still enacts your will.”

Nala furrows her brow as she picks up the spectacles, and begins to replace her own on the chain that normally holds them in place. She comments, “I’m not entirely certain I see the point of a duplicate of myself that is incorporeal, unless—. It would have my Latent? I see. That could offer some aid in my endless categorization efforts.”

Nodding, I add, “Yeah, as far as I know, it’s silent, and can’t affect anything, but it has your intelligence, and therefore any internal mental Latent that affects such a thing. I hope I haven’t guessed your Latent incorrectly.”

Thankfully she responds, “No, no that’s approximately correct. Oh, look at her, there she is. How curious, to see myself. I don’t remember when the last time that was. I—. Tell me, friend Reggie, do I always look that annoyed, and aloof, with a hint of sadness?”

I gulp back saliva as I confirm Nala’s analysis of her appearance. I don’t want to disparage her in any way, so I can’t figure out any words to offer her. I’d offer a hug, but this is Nala we’re talking about. In an odd turn though, Nala approaches her ghost, and raises her hand to a position as if patting its shoulder. Under her breath, she mutters, “There, there.”