Levitating myself up so that I don’t have to walk around the table, and then standing on an invisible surfboard made of telekinetic force causes a fair bit of a stir. Nothing anywhere near the stir from talking about the Felgre horde, but I still want to facepalm for accidentally seeming like a showoff. I literally can’t move my muscles right now, because the embarrassment and anxiety have been wearing heavily on me, such that my internal electrokinesis has gone out of whack. I have to use this method to locomote for the moment. Across our telepathic bond I can sense that Kinzul is distressed, dismayed even to hear that the anxiety has affected me so strongly.
I send apologetic waves to Kinzul, even though I’m the one suffering at the moment, and we both have a slight telepathic chuckle at my thought process. I send love and affection to Teuila and Lil telepathically, while casting my telepathic senses out for Luni. I don’t sense her anywhere within my range, sadly. I find myself floating down lonesome tunnels in an eerily quiet daze.
It gives me time to think about the fact that Kinzul, and the members of the Onyx Dawn mostly subsist on minerals, like the kobolds we met in The Gap. They might supplement their diet with meat and grain, but their feast consisted entirely of stone, metal, and minerals. The Emerald Dawn however, Ka’thuul’s copy of the order that uses wealth instead, is rather similar to Kozzurth, in that they want to just eat everyone that isn’t a dragon in order to sate their hungers, going so far as to possibly raise humans as cattle. Or at least Ka’thuul herself wants that. One of the reasons we have to watch for her inevitable betrayal. Our alliance is more like just having her not actively trying to kill us for part of the duration of the war.
Hopefully we can keep abreast of the intelligence necessary by spying on—. I topple off of my telekinetic surfboard as I catch sight of Errissa twirling a kunai on one finger. Great, now I’m thinking about the fact that I just used the word abreast, while thinking about spies, a very inconvenient coincidence because now I’m staring directly at— gulp.
I stutter, “I, the, I, I said something stupid, earlier. I’m very sorry if, if, if anything, um. I’m going to try to straighten it out later, with Iylynila. Uh, hi, I’m Reggie.”
I facepalm, and I detect a slight shake of Errissa’s chest in a silent mirthful laugh. She offers me a hand, helping me up, and she sadly has to do most of the work when I accept it, since my muscles still aren’t responding very well to my internal electrokinesis. All that ends up meaning she essentially lifts me with both of her arms, up against her body, and I nearly faint.
Struggling to control my breathing, and to not be a total idiot about this, I wince without blinking as migraine pressure builds alongside both of my temples. I apologize more profusely, “I’m sorry, I took an injury that makes my muscles sometimes not work. I appreciate being helped up. You feel very nice. I mean—!”
Flushing heatedly, I clarify, “I mean, that was very nice. Hm? Oh, yes, I swear, I’m telling the truth about the muscle thing. I can show you how I’m operating them, one second, this might tingle or zap a little.”
Errissa’s facial expressions clue me in to her curiosity and disbelief about my muscles not working when it sounds like I’m perving out on her, having used it as an excuse to be held by her. I work a very gentle charge across my limbs, using the internal electrokinesis but passing the electricity along the outside of my arms in shallow sparking arcs to get my arms to move. It’s incredibly obvious when a spark digs into my skin at the appropriate region to cause a muscle to convulse or spasm, expand or contract, and so on. I raise my right hand towards her face, with index finger extended, and swipe playfully at the end of her snout, passing a little shock along into her nose.
There’s a very minor, fleeting instant of discomfort from the shock, then a genuine smile spreads across Errissa’s face. I continue rambling, “So, I, um, about, if I say stupid things, my um, my partner, Tenith, her Latent is power over the forces of attraction. I know right!? So, I, yeah you can probably guess. Yeah, you. I, I don’t know when it’ll wear off. I just want to be honest so I can apologize for how stupid I act around you. I’m really, terribly sorry.”
My eyes wet with tears as I genuinely am unsure how I want to feel about Errissa, and what this is doing to any sort of friendship or relationship we could build. Her curiously raised brow seems to be trying to determine something along a similar line of thought. I sigh resignedly as I continue apologizing, “I cannot apologize enough, for what came out of my mouth back there, and the thoughts that go through my head. Oh, yes, about you, but very flattering, or, well, accurate, only flattering because they’re accurate, because you’re —. Glp. Sorry, I’m, I’m trying to warn you about all this, because I’ll be providing psychic links, and I’m one of the current two backbones of the psychic network I’m setting up. Yes, yeah I’m sure Kinzul is going to want you to be one of the top priorities.”
It’s remarkably easy to read her intent across her face and hand movements, and I feel at ease communicating with her, despite her being mute. She looks concerned about the psychic link though, so I try to assuage her, “If you don’t want to be someone that can hear my inane rambling, or someone who Kinzul hears the thoughts of, directly, at all times, I could put you under someone else’s subnetwork, you’d just have four or five people in your head at all times that way. Wait, really? You don’t mind the idea of me being your network connection?”
She almost looks pleased at the idea, so I’d better clarify, “Um, before you, well, commit to that, I, I think I should give you an example of the inane, extremely obsessive thoughts that go through my head when I see you, or think of you. I picture your physique, how slender and graceful you are, the hypnotic sway of your hips as you sashay and saunter away, the mesmerizing flick of your tail, situated perfectly at the nape of your back, directly above your firm—, ahem, koff. From the fore, I can’t stop thinking about these beautiful, liquid-mercury silver eyes that seem to shimmer and flow as they meet my gaze. Our locked eyes leave me in anticipation of what I know not, and if I can even tear my gaze away from your eyes, it’s only to drink in the rest of your smooth-scaled face, and neck, down to your torso, and the supple, tight-fitted leathers that adorn your slender, serpentine curves. Oh wow, crap. I—. I am so, so sorry. That all just came out.”
Errissa looks more than a bit startled, but she raises one hand to her face, and her chest shakes delightfully with mirth of further silent laughter. I struggle and fail to not make detailed mental image notes of exactly how the amazingly crafted leathers situated tightly hugging her chest heaved up and down in the minor laugh. She’s not even a mammal Reggie. Get a grip. I mean, at least, I don’t think Draconiacs would have—. Stop while you’re ahead.
When Errissa indicates if I really think our locked gaze is all that special, I virtually vibrate as I tentatively, yet emphatically nod, while retaining that locked gaze. My mouth begins smacking my dried lips together, wagging my jaw uselessly as if trying to talk. I gulp, and am forced to wet my lips, and I feel incredibly guilty as I notice her gaze specifically catching sight of my tongue, observing its motion. My heart skips beats as my stomach flutters.
I realize that I’ve been subconsciously altering my base form while I’ve been on Rayileklia, similar to Teuila, and coincidentally, I’m just a head shorter than the beautiful, lithe, smooth-scaled, silver-eyed woman with the perfectly rounded-to-a-point snout in front of me. We’re within kissing height, such that it wouldn’t be horribly awkward. Kissing height. Awkward. Brain barely working.
Gulping, I add, “I, I know this is all incredibly shallow, and I can’t apologize enough. Teuila, Tenith, had never used this side of her Latent before, and she put a ton of juice into the power, which has been amplified because she’s Aliased. I really hope it someday wears off. You’ve been so swell to put up with me admitting this to you. I hope you can forgive me for all of this. I understand if it takes a while to earn that. Yeah, I get why you would be a bit iffy and hesitant on the forgiveness. Oh, teasing? Wow, I—.”
The fact that she feels comfortable enough around me to tease me about forgiving me, and therefore implies she forgives me sets my heart soaring. My heart flutters when Errissa reaches towards me once more, and I imagine her grasping me to pull me in for an extended kiss. What actually happens is that Errissa taps the pocket where I’m keeping the note with her icon on it, so I pull it out, not surprised that she knew where it was on my personage. She indicates wanting to know how I saw her in the library, since she’s, y’know, the unobservable Scout of the Onyx Dawn, Aliased Spymaster.
I flash Errissa a weak half-smile as I fish for an answer, “I’m not really sure. My Latent is called nothing. Literally, that’s what it’s called, and you heard my honoris causa. My best guess, is that some Latents will be less effective on me, or outright won’t work on me, or I’ll absorb them somehow, like a void, or black hole, sucking them up, and some, well, they might get really dense in me.”
As Errissa points to me, my heart swells, and skips beats several times. I realize that she was teasing me yet again, seemingly more and more comfortable with me, so I chuckle and continue, “Yes, dense like me, hah. Oh, but also yes, like Teuila’s whammy. You’re being incredibly understanding about all this. I’m trying really, really hard not to ask to kiss you, so I would understand if you disappeared to keep me from asking awkward things like that. Oh--”
I—. My mind goes blank for the long moment we share, locked in a not exactly passionate, or sensual kiss, but a kiss with our eyes locked on each other’s all the same. I struggle to maintain my breathing, and there’s a faint tug at the corner of Errissa’s eyes, the crinkle of the slightest of smiles.
When she visually asks if that would keep me from asking again, I chuckle, shaking my head with an apologetic sadness, “I, um, I’m pretty sure that that just opened up a can of worms that’s going to have me thinking about you nonstop for a while, and the idea of being able to repeat that again, whenever possible. It was really, really nice, and your body is so—. Ahem, sorry. Hey, it’s not that funny, is it? Hah. Awe heck, you’re really great about this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. Yeah, me too, I’d be curious what my brain is like around you too, if this ever wears off. Unless it has already worn off, in which case, I’m hopeless.”
There’s a mild look of shock at the idea that this might be my natural state already, which turns into more full-belly shaking laughter as she covers her silent mouth. Errissa pauses her laughter a moment, and cocks her head at an angle that indicates she’s pondering something. She raises a scaled brow, and points at her lips, causing me to gulp as I raise my own eyebrow, silently asking for permission. The faintest nod results in me gravitating to her, and the resulting kiss is one of far more passion. The way we paw at each as if massaging away aches we feel on the other’s body, while drinking hungrily of each other’s gazes blows my mind, and at some point, she ends up dragging me around a corner to thrust me up against a wall in an alcove.
My head swims with pleasure, and my eyes roll in their sockets, causing me to unfortunately blink, and, like so many times before, Errissa immediately disappears. I’m left shaking, panting, exhausted, disheveled, and completely discombobulated. Did that just happen? Holy crap. Holy crap. How long would that have gone on if I hadn’t blinked? I think I forgot to breathe that entire time.
I half drag, half slump my way along the walls towards the library, looking every bit as bedraggled as I feel by the time I enter it. Nala offers me a curt nod, and mutters, “Good, you’re here. You’re a useful assistant, and fairly pleasant conversant.”
My jaw flops up and down somewhat uselessly for a moment, causing Nala to ask, “My word, what ever has gotten into you? You look like you’ve been mugged, assaulted, robbed, perhaps more of your senses than of your possessions.”
At that, and I hate myself for this, I quickly take stock of my possessions. Everything seems to be in place, none of my magical equipment is missing. Ah, but there are now several more notes scattered in my pockets. How the hell did she manage that? I’ll read these later.
Nala seems to be standing perfectly still, holding one tome open before her, so I leave her to read, and begin stocking the shelves with the books she’s already appended relevancy scores onto. When I come back for another load of books, Nala hasn’t moved an inch, but she is a bit of an odd duck in some ways, so I guess it’s not that unusual. She does like silence, and spends a lot of time reading. Also, if she’s having a panic attack, she warned me that touching her would not be tolerated.
When I find myself finished, with perhaps an hour’s worth of re-shelving, Nala still hasn’t moved, and I can’t even see signs of her breathing, so I begin to panic and worry for her. As I’m walking a circle around her, I catch sight of the tome’s cover, and a roman numeral for two out of five. My eyes flash wide and it feels like I’m knocked off my feet as I tumble over backwards.
I reach out with my telekinesis to snap the book in Nala’s hands shut, and, while she looks the slightest bit confused, she goes about like nothing had happened as she says, “Hm, my Latent says this one should be in the Eights.”
My jaw drops as Nala moves to set the book down in the “to-be-reshelved-by-Reggie” area, when she notices that the area is completely empty. Nala gazes at me and my stunned expression before scratching her scaled brow in utter confusion. The blue-robed, gangly, nerdy, lovely copper Draconiac asks, “Did you happen to add super speed to your list of spells and abilities in the last few hours?”
Shaking my head, still slack-jawed, I feel horrible as I witness confusion and terror begin to creep their way up Nala’s face. I try to explain, “That book, it steals time. It’s one of five. On my world, there were six. Those six books? Each one could only be read by the specific person whose lives tale they told. Anyone else who read them simply spaced out and lost time, gaining almost no information, usually just a single word, like a hint about the book owner’s name.”
I sigh sadly, as I realize I’d better tell her the rest, ”When we gathered them all, the six of us who came to this world, we read our final pages in the temple of time on our world, and we perished, we were utterly destroyed, in the hopes that the books’ powers would save our world. The book in your hands belongs to the dog of an assassin who’s been dead for about four months. Yeah, the books can be for people that happen to be animals. Their dog’s name was Eights. Their name was Aces. They had a dark sense of humor.”
Wanting to verify my own assertion, I touch the book in Nala’s hands, and it indeed passes a single word, a name, onto me, “Eights.”
Nala mutters, “This was in the haul brought back from Yisstendahl’s hoard, it—, why would he possess such a thing? What significance does it have on this world? I trust you not to lie to me about something so far fetched.”
All I can manage to do is struggle between two thought processes. One, we need all five of these tomes. Two, I want to be pressed up against Errissa, continuing where we left off. I hate myself a little bit for it that it’s even a contest, with something so world-shatteringly important on the line.
Trying to distract myself from thoughts of the suppleness of Errissa’s— everything, I respond, “It’s, it’s kind of funny. Several of the tomes were in possessions of reptiles on my world too, one of them was in the possession of a Naga curator of a small library. I mean, their race is a letter off of your name, and you’re, well, you get it.”
Nala, Librarian of the Order of the Onyx Dawn, Aliased Curator, certainly does get it. The coincidence is just a coincidence, right? We’re entire worlds apart, lives, universes apart. There can’t be some cosmic-scale joke that spans several universes, can there?