Cas decided to focus her looting efforts on all the most destroyed houses.
She felt less like a burglar when her surroundings looked post-apocalyptic. Besides, it wasn’t stealing if everything was abandoned, right?
And so, Cas went on an aggressive foraging expedition through all the nicest looking closets. All the wardrobes were in the same style. The staple articles were long dresses and corsets, as well as some official uniforms and dress suits.
“Dang it!” cas cursed as she opened up the latest wardrobe. Did this world have a minimum height requirement for pants? Every set had been sized for someone at least three inches taller than her.
Growing increasingly frustrated, Cas broadened her search area to the better maintained homes in the outskirts, finding more of the same everywhere until – by pure happenstance – she found just what she was looking for in the most unexpected of places.
Giving up on her search for clothes, Cas walked into some stables she found near a farm house.
There were no animals inside. Not even a trace of a hoof-print in the hay lined floor.
That was disappointing. Cas had been curious to see what sort of creature the people this world used in place of a horse.
Her bad mood only lasted an instant however, as, at the far end of the stables, inside a closet obviously designed for human use, Cas found it.
Pants!
The tight pair of riding pants hung in the closet next to a full uniform. They were even sized for a woman, if the curve of the hips was to be believed, and those curves – after a thorough round of disinfection – slid onto Cas’s hips like a glove.
“Haha!” Cas posed in front of an imaginary mirror, running her hands down the tailored waist of her top coat and throwing the large fur coat in a dramatic manner.
It wasn’t really her style, granted. Cas had never been the type to wear tight pants or organize fox hunts, but Cas wasn’t a complainer.
Besides, she was just glad to have pants. Every dress she’d worn had hitherto managed to mop up every stray puddle Cas deigned to walk through.
As a child, splashing her clothes with cold water was fun. As an adult, Cas was growing tired of having to hike her skirt up just to walk across the living room.
----------------------------------------
Cas stepped confidently through the trawled mud-path she’d eaten out of the front garden, knocking her new boots against an upturned stone.
The stone flew several feet before, landing with a bowling-ball thud, off behind some hedges.
Cas had said it before and would say it again: Aura was a hell of a drug. Ever since turning human, Cas had gained a greater appreciation for the effects it had on a living body, and the effects seemed to encompass everything.
The world just felt brighter somehow, as if every sight and sound had been highlighter in marker pen. And everything felt lighter. That stone, which should have weighed thirty pounds, had flown like a soccer ball, and her body felt like it was made of air.
lt felt like gravity had been turned down several notches.
In fact, looking down, she noticed that she could feel her clothes. like they were a second skin. She could feel the wind caressing against the tips of her lapels and the muddy beads of water running over the top of her boots.
At first, she’d attributed this to the tight pants but, upon closer inspection, she noticed that her aura had seeped into the materials. Her status sheet, slow on the uptake, noticed this with a small delay.
[New Item equipped!]
[Coat: +2 armor]
[New Item equipped!]
[Boots: +3 armor; -1 strength]
[New Item Equipped!]
...
Cas banished the status sheet before more updates came. She’d been sick enough of Excel back on earth, and her recent exposure had been entirely too much. Besides, It had been so long since she’d been able to see the world through human senses. She wanted to appreciate the sights a little longer before the mysteries of her status sheet drew her back in.
The sun had risen above the neighbor’s roof by now, and it illuminated Cas’s house in quite an unflattering light.
The fire blast had formed a greviously large exit wound. A small landslide originated from the interior room where the blast started, creating a small hill of burnt timber and shattered roof tiles where the rest of the house should have been.
Cas could see into the interior room from the outside, actually, and it was only two stories above her.
Huh… only two stories above her.
Cas hopped lightly on her toes, testing her weight.
She could probably jump that.
----------------------------------------
Cas, as it turned out, could not jump it, catching onto the roof with her neck and letting out a chocked "gyak!" as she hooked her arms over the floorboards, pulling herself up with scrambling hands.
Digging her fingers into a crack, Cas muscled her hips up over the ground line, rolling over onto her back with a heavy thud that drew a dangerous creak from the charred, wood floor that only begrudgingly supported her weight.
“Ahhh!”
As was becoming tradition, the woman greeted Cas with a surprised scream.
She leapt up with surprise, holding a tea-pot out like it was a pistol, her face lashing between panic, and then surprise, before settling on bewilderment. She lowered the kettle and gently sat back down, trying to manage her breaths.
“Sorry about that,” she said, sending a nervous smile in Cas’ direction. “I didn’t recognize you. I mean –” cool eyes ran over Cas’s figure “-- hey say children grow up fast, but you seem to have lived a lifetime out there.”
“Oh!” Cas looked down at herself with equal surprise. She wavered her hand in a circling motion as she crawled up to a stand. “I… can change ages depending on how heavy I am. I just ate a lot of food while I was outside so I guess you could say I grew up.”
“Oh? And, did you discover your love for fox-hunts while you were out there, too?” the woman teased, pointing out Cas’s new outfit.
“No,” Cas answered, indignant. “I just decided to borrow some new clothes.” Cas took a seat at the short table, where a porcelain cup had been set for her. Across from her, the woman picked up the steaming tea kettle, pouring it over a small porcelain figure of a veiled woman before filling Cas’s cup.
“Borrow?” the woman projected a teasing note in her voice. “I wonder when you’re planning to return the articles.”
It was not lost on Cas that the woman was herself wearing a brand new dress. “Same time as when you return yours,” she responded.
“My dress was torn,” the woman justified proudly, sitting back against her seat after pouring her own cup. “Besides, you said you were going to get food?”
Cas pulled out a wooden bowl from a leather purse she’d also borrowed. It was a large bowl, requiring two hands to balance, it was overflowing with a pyramid of transparent food blocks. It shook the table as Cas dropped it down, the food blocks jiggling in response to the sudden shock.
They tasted ‘fine’ as Kari had rated them, but the woman must have been starving, to tell by the degree of effort she seemed to be exerting not to scarf the whole bowl down, her lady-like composure warring with her hunger and eventually losing as she dropped her fork and started popping them like pizza rolls. Though, even this she did with two fingers, an impressive maintenance of composure.
The woman deftly ignored Cas’s staring, pointing out the training doll Cas had in her pocket and waiting to swallow before speaking. “That aura trainer… where did you borrow that from?”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“I wasn’t planning to keep it,” Cas said, embarrassed. “Anyway, I found it downstairs. I thought it was just a doll. You said it was for training?”
“Run aura through it,” the woman answered.
Cas did just so, gripping it in her palm and trying to run aura through it… failing miserably.
The doll… a light wooden object in her hand, felt like a river of led the moment her aura broke against its exterior.
It was the woman’s turn to stare now, looking at Cas as one might a particularly slow child.
That level of embarrassment was just what Cas needed, however, and she nearly crushed the toy in her grip, focusing herself and hammering aura into the doll until her palm burned. And, then, all of a sudden, the gates opened and slowly, very slowly, Cas felt the aura trickling into the object.
The doll reacted to this, the limbs curling inward like some automaton.
The woman broke with the impatience of someone watching their grandparent send an email. “Oh, you’re doing it all wrong,” she started. “It’s a puppet. You’re supposed to be able to make it dance, here.” – she held out her hand – “Let me show you.
Cad did so, and Sara, rather than grasping the object, simply placed it on the table and pressed her fingertip against the top of the doll’s head. Then, like a jolt of lightning, Aura hammered into the woman’s hand, sending a jolt through the table and nearly spilling Cas’s tea.
Cas couldn’t see the aura, but she could feel it, concentrated in the woman’s hand. A slight heat distortion rose from the doll's surface, and, slowly, with surprisingly human-like motions, the doll rose onto its arms and legs, placing a hand on its knee as it pushed up into a tall stance.
“See, the woman said. It’s supposed to train your control and dexterity. Like this.”
As if to show off just that, the doll rose up onto the point of one toe. Bringing both hands together, it twirled like a ballerina before hopping up into a cabriole.
And for a second, when it was in the air, the doll almost felt alive. It’s glittering lashes and painted face seemed almost real, as it strove and broke its limits like only a human could, as it leapt up and reached for the sun. It was rare that something could look so purely like art.
The landing was a bit rough, however, causing it to slip from the woman's finger and collapse onto the wooden table with a clatter. Dead again in a second. What was it they said about icarus?
“Well… sort of like that, anyway,:” the woman said, looking disappointed at the collapsed body.
The dead doll reminded Cas of something. She took a sip of her still too-hot tea to avoid speaking of it, but, eventually, the drink was done, and Cas felt the burden of responsibility pressuring her.
“Regarding how we met…” she said, finally. “When I first found you, I saw that there was a wagon full of people nearby when the monsters were chasing. I… didn’t find any other survivors. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” was the woman’s immediate reply. “I was only traveling with that group out of necessity. They were very bad people, you know.”
Cas was unused to having facial expressions, and so did a very poor job of hiding her incredulity.
The woman only stared blankly at her. “I can sense a judging look in your eyes.”
“Oh! It’s just..” Cas panicked.
“It’s fine,” the woman said. “I’m a lady, not a prude. Adaptability is the most noble trait, after all, and I’ve been in a desperate way lately. I’ve had to associate with more than a few people that made me want to pinch my nose. I appear to have quite a talent for finding myself chained to ruffians.”
“I’m sorry,” Cas could think of nothing else to say.
“Again, don’t be,” the woman flicked her hair up proudly. “They never harmed me. I’m quite good at associating with people, getting them to like me and so on. It’s a skill that has to be well cultivated if you want to survive as a woman of leisure. Grand balls can be quite ruthless places, you know. Gossip and lies, all of it.”
The conversation died here for a second. Cas could sense that it had become ‘her turn’ to add to the conversation, but she’d never cultivated much of a talent for small talk, and what little she did had been thoroughly killed by months of isolation.
Cas thought about mentioning the weather, but the Lady interrupted her.
“Why did you save me?” she asked suddenly.
“What?” Cas said.
“Why did you save me,” the woman reiterated, leaving no room for confusion or escape.
“I mean, why are you asking?” Despite the woman’s best efforts, Cas did maintain her confusion. This wasn’t exactly the kind of response she expected. Shouldn’t the woman have been grateful, or at least something other than accusatory? “You needed help, and I was in a position to offer it.”
“Really?” the woman said, looking incredulous. “I must say, if that’s the case then you’re either naive or a liar. And, given my experience with Grand Balls, you don’t seem like the latter.”.
Cas herself grew incredulous at this. “What? I’m naive because I didn’t leave you to die?”
“Well,” the lady said, introducing the fact gently, “you are a monster, and I am a human. I threw a fireball in your face on sight. Were I a less reasonable person, you might have had an army on your tail before sundown.”
Cas almost spat her tea. “You mean… I should’ve just left you to die!?”
The woman looked surprised at the response. “Well, not necessarily that,” she answered thoughtfully. “I’m… merely noticing that it must have taken a lot of effort on your part to save me. A hundredth part of that could have kept your discretion, is all. Certainly, considering your talents, it wouldn’t have been difficult for you to pretend to be human.”
“Well, maybe,” Cas admitted, remembering how badly she’d botched their first contact. Thinking about it with a more adult mind, Cas realized it would’ve been the easiest thing to hide the fact that she was a slime if only she’d just cleaned up the hospital bed and maintained a human figure when the woman woke up.
In fact, why hadn’t she just done that?
Then Cas remembered: right, she’d been distracted collecting couch change and licking doorknobs. Apparently, twelve year olds could be absent minded and irresponsible… who knew?
“I had a lot on my mind,” Cas finally answered, deciding the full truth about her changing mental age would be difficult to explain. “Besides, you said something about having an army on my tail? Are you able to communicate with an army?” Cas asked. “If so-”
“Stop!” the woman bent a wrist up to present a flat palm. Her voice was natural and even, but the abruptness of the sound hit Cas’s train of thought like a speed bump.
Before Cas could even gather her thoughts, the woman continued.
“You just lied right then. Don’t try to deny it. I can tell.” She placed the teacup onto an ivory coaster. “When you said ‘you had a lot on your mind’, you weren’t being entirely honest. There was another reason that you forgot to hide your nature.”
“Well,” Cas’s thought staggered from the announcement. “I was just-”
The woman didn’t allow Cas to gather any momentum. “I know, I know,” she replied consolingly. “A little white lie, something to make the conversation go more smoothly. Everyone does it, and you didn’t mean any harm by it, as far as I could tell, but… you’re a monster, darling.” The woman leant forward as she made that accusation, her sparkling eyes and bright voice almost making the announcement sound positive. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that just because I’m having tea with you. I’m only talking to you right now because you saved my life, but, much as I’d love to talk about niceties and dolls all evening, and as crass as it may be to ask you directly, I’m afraid I will need to know some things about you if I’m to trust you.
“So, I must ask that you be completely honest with me… at least for the duration of this tea,” she gestured sharply to the table between them. “We can go back to a world of white lies and half truths afterwards.” She capped this speech off with a bright smile, crossing one leg and sitting back prettily with a proud expression.
Cas was stunned at the clarity of the diatribe. The woman had a way with words, if it were to be put lightly, and she wasn’t asking for anything egregious. Cas herself would’ve probably asked for more if she woke up with a monster as her bed.
More than that, she could sense that the woman had recovered more completely from her earlier exertion, and she certainly seemed confident enough in her abilities to press the point with Cas.
Left with such a complete proposal, Cas could only nod. “Very well,” she said. “But, I’ll have to ask that you be completely honest, as well. I have some questions of my own.”
“That’s only proper,” the woman answered simply, letting the silence hang at the end of her sentence as a motion for Cas to get on with it.
Cas felt a bit stuck at the silent prompt. There was just so much about her life to go through. She wasn’t sure where to start. A look at the expectant woman’s face gave her a hint for her thesis.
“Well,” Cas started. “I suppose we should start with names. I’m Cassandria,” she stuck out her hand. “My friends call me Cas.”
“Much obliged,” the woman took her hand in a dainty shake. “I am Lady Sara Mathalthizar Quinnecient-” she halted a moment in the middle of her introduction, as if remembering something embarrassing. “Well, you may call me Sara, in any case.” Noticing her obvious slip, she hurried to change the subject. “And, I’d hate to suppose, but should I call you ‘Cas?’ I wouldn't call us friends, but you did just save my life, if that counts for something.”
Cas laughed. “Sure, you can call me Cas.”
Sara mirrored her gesture. “It’s quite funny. I’d never thought monsters could have names, much less friendly ones.”
Cas took that as her second thesis, rolling her eyes up to a corner of her mind as she thought of how best to phrase it. “Well, that’s maybe the second thing you need to know about me, Sara. I’m not a monster.”
And Cas explained herself, and told the woman a story about a little world called Earth, and the biologist who’d dedicated her life to studying the life on that world before hers was ended.