Chapter 7 – The Lowdown
Reality is unbending, that is the rule.
Physicalism is the philosophy of babes; what can be touched, seen, smelled, heard, and tasted is ineffable truth. It is the first lesson taught, the first understanding formed: Nothing supervenes on the material, for there is nothing except the material. Desperate needs are soothed by means of sustenance. Curiosity is barred by birdcages and blankets. Children are given a Universe in a World contained in a House with a Room. They laugh and cry and learn to love from rough linen and pretty colors. They draw with their pencils and suckle from their mothers, all to grasp the most fundamental of precepts: “We Live in a World, and it is one to Share.”
Juices trickle down the chins of those that bite into ripened fruit. Birds catch the invisible winds on feather plumes and flaps for freedom. Water is the source of life. Soil is the bed of death. Streets are paved in dirt and stone and wood and steel, and everything is made from anything, to the point it is indistinguishable when caught in duplicity. That is how people share the World; by relying on its experiences remaining unchanging.
Empathy is crafted from morning dew and willow trees. Sympathy is extracted from broken eggs and puppet strings. When it's all the same, same, same, the differences are crossed and the World becomes a game.
Reality is unbending.
And then it is not.
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Gwen gnawed on a slice of bread devoid of any additives. It was bland but filling, helping to ease her roiling stomach that gurgled beyond the depths of sleep. Part of her had wanted to ignore it, to roll over and pretend to sleep longer, but the discomfort accosted her persistently, pushing away any semblance of rest, real or fake.
And combined with her dream that tasted of raw unfiltered abstractions... She wouldn't have been able to pretend for long anyway.
So here she was, eyes foggy and bread becoming soggy as she sat on the staircase steps, head leaning against the railing. From an outsider’s view, she must have looked exhausted.
Primrose certainly must have thought so, judging from her expression. “Did you stay up late last night?” She asked.
Gwen glanced up at the woman who housed her. When she finally arrived back home, Primrose was already there, anxiously tapping her nail against the tabletop. Without even greeting her, Primrose launched into a stern and angry, yet floundering lecture. The Mayor had informed her of what transpired, she said, as her rage gave way to unease. She had gotten worried sick. She left her post early to find her at home, except Gwen hadn’t returned until hours later.
By the end of her rant, Primrose had put her face in her hands, looking so defeated that the ache of guilt that first drove Gwen to leave magnified in an instant. The shame sealed her lips shut, and by the time curfew rolled around, neither of them had said anything to the other.
Until now.
“I had a dream,” Gwen answered honestly after swallowing her latest bite. “It was a bizarre one. I tried to go to sleep again, but then my stomach started growling.”
While she spoke, she didn’t dare look into Primrose’s eyes. The tension between them was too thick for her to call up the straightforwardness and frankness that carried her before.
“Ah.” Primrose took in Gwen’s dismal self, carded her hand through her hair, and sighed helplessly. “Well, the plate on the counter is yours. I need to make up for the shift I quit early, so I might be late getting home. Do you… have any plans today? Anything that I need to know?”
Ignis’ idea came to mind straight away. He was stubborn and persistent, but since she hadn’t properly agreed to it yesterday, Gwen had no clue what he’d do. Not that she knew what she’d do either. The scolding Primrose gave her pretty much blasted any consideration of defying authority into oblivion.
“I don’t know.” A stare filled with suspicion drilled into the top of her head. “I may go out with some friends today. And if you’re wondering whether I’ll be leaving town unannounced again, I won’t. I learned my lesson.”
“...Good!” Primrose said curtly, caught between relief and the need to keep up strictness. “I’ll know if you sneak off again, young lady, so don’t even bother trying!”
“I just said I wouldn’t.”
“I know, I know, I’m– re-emphasizing.” Primrose shook her head. “Money’s on the table and there’s food in the icebox. I’m leaving now. Goodbye.”
The farewell was abrupt, cut off by Primrose’s own indignity as she fled from the house. Gwen took her last bite of the bread as the front door slammed shut, the footfalls of her guardian’s steel-clad heels vanishing with astonishing alacrity. She had upset Primrose again, she realized as she chewed. Antagonizing her wouldn’t help the heavy atmosphere lighten, but frankly speaking, Gwen had no idea where she needed to stop.
So she shrugged, swallowed, and did her best not to stew. Sulking wasn’t her favorite pastime, but it was one she fell into too often with how much she tended to think.
Getting up and walking down the staircase, Gwen tried to muster up the remains of her appetite for the breakfast that awaited her arrival. ‘Tried’ was the operative word here, but she was startled out of her lack of success by a knock at the door.
Tap! Tap! Tap! An unseen knuckle rasped.
Glancing around the empty house with confusion, Gwen tried to remember if Primrose said anything about having guests over. Did she just forget to tell her, or was this a surprise visit? Knowing that standing around stupidly like a deer in the lights wouldn’t resolve anything, Gwen pressed herself against the door and tried to angle her head to the peephole, an act made nearly impossible by her horns and the absence of bendable foot joints.
Luckily for her, she didn’t need to see who stood beyond the door. Not when their presence was announced in a loud and familiar manner.
“Gwen!” Ignis yelled. “Are you awake? Can I come in?”
Gwen blinked in shock. What was this boy doing here so early in the morning?
Now hungry for answers instead of food, she wasted no time unlocking and opening the door, revealing a grinning Ignis. He had discarded the fur-lined jacket he wore yesterday for a leaf green tank top, revealing his well-developed arms and shoulders. It was quite a sight different from what she was used to, but Gwen thought that the athletic look suited him nicely, with his sun-kissed skin complementing his features.
“Morning!” Ignis said, shunting her out of the aesthetic purview of her friend. “Bet you weren’t expecting the Ignis Inquisition!”
He winked and saluted her playfully, gestures of a joke she had no context for. “You would be correct,” she replied, demure but sincerely glad to see him. “My guardian only just left to fulfill her duties.”
“I know. I watched her go.” Ignis winked again, more sheepishly this time. “I was kinda waiting outside for her to leave? Not for any nefarious reasons– I’m not a stalker– I just… woke up. Early.”
The easy grin he wore to greet her now shrunk into something more flustered. The sight made Gwen recall their moment underneath the flickering blue flames, atop a bed of moss that cushioned their fall. Ignis got self-conscious easily for someone of his confidence, she realized then and now.
Which was why she tilted her head at him in askance. “So why did you come here after waking up early?”
“Uh…” He shifted his gaze away. “To… avoid my Dad? Who came home last night after I went to sleep? Look– I’m still a little mad at him, but I don’t want either of us to get upset this early in the morning, so I just legged it to the first place I thought of.”
“And that was my house?” Gwen finally made room to let him pass, to which he shuffled in gratefully.
“Well, you lived closer to me than I thought you did. Plus I’m not close with my neighbors. They’re old money, you get the picture.” He spun in place, taking in Primrose’s interior decor. “Wow, this is what it’s like inside? It’s like you’re living in a bachelor’s pad.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Gwen stated flatly as she shut and locked the door.
“It’s a Principate term used to describe medium-sized homes where single people live.” Ignis gestured to the living room, full of knick-knacks, training gear, and bookshelves. “Everything’s kind of crammed together in one place like this. Saw it in an old magazine Mom left lying around the house. Hey, do you use any of this stuff?”
Gwen shrugged, letting her friend throw himself onto the couch without a fuss. He practically sank into the fabric with how relaxed he got, his sudden listlessness bringing attention to just how tense he was before. All kinds of strung-up emotions slid off his face, and despite herself, Gwen began to smile fondly.
“I haven’t had much opportunity to attend to anything other than books.” She briefly ducked into the kitchen to grab her food, alongside two cups of water, one of which she offered to Ignis. “My guardian has a humble collection of fairy tales that I’ve been leafing through, and I’m already halfway through them all. I was trying to figure out if I had read any of them as a child, but no such luck.”
Ignis side-eyed her for a second like he had something serious to say. He quickly abandoned the notion, however, and reclined on his back instead. “Well, do you have any favorites from the bunch?”
“Hmm…” Gwen gave the question some honest thought, perusing the ball of tightly wound imagination and reweaving it to form a tapestry. “The Willow Bride was quite evocative and I really liked Pygmalion’s Dancehall, but the best collection I’ve read so far is the Tailor Tales with all the fables and the illustrations.”
“Oh, man, the Tailor Tales!” His eyes shone a bit. “I haven’t read a Knit in ages. Maya and I’s old school had it listed as mandatory reading. I remember being stubborn about it when I was younger because it came from Old Freischütz; I kept refusing to read it in class. Dad had to warm me up to it by– get this– fucking reading it to me while I slept, like some kind of subliminal messaging!”
“Practicing his propaganda game,” Gwen said with a straight face, making Ignis laugh harder.
“Yes! Exactly! It worked too, because by the time my hate phase was over, I fell in love with Peacock’s Prance and the Lantern in the Snow. Didn’t find out about the subtle brainwashing until I was sixteen though, when Mom brought it up at dinner.” He gave her a shining smile. “Those were good times.”
Gwen was not particularly fond of his usage of past tense, but she figured it wasn’t her place to say anything. Cutting into her eggs with her fork, she put some food into her mouth before giving him her two-Cole. “I’d ask about the hypnotization, but truthfully, I am more curious about your choice of story. What did you like about them so much that you forgot about your hatred?”
“It’s not so much that I ‘forgot’ as it is ‘I warmed up to it’,” Ignis corrected first. “And well, they’re… charming? It’s been a while, so I’m not sure why I liked Peacock’s Prance either. But I know why I loved Lantern in the Snow! I’ve always been a sucker for stories about fighting the world for something small and easily missable.”
“That’s because it matches your personality.”
Her claim was not an empty one. The Lantern in the Snow was one of the most heartwarming tales she had ever read, even if its ending was tragic. It was a story about nature, its inevitable encroach on the creature that lived in this world, and how it could take away the brightest of joys in a single swipe. It was also the story of a boy, falling sick to his own nature, succumbing to the call of eternal winter for a chance at true rest.
Most of all it was a story about a girl, who saw her dying friend climbing into the arms of a cruel but fair Nature, and screamed against the world that he would not die today. She was a lonely lantern carrier defying the blizzard of numbing snow, denying the advent of a hastening time, and reaching for a hazy miracle simply because she wanted to rescue a fleeting life, even if the world itself gently welcomed that death.
What better story was there for Ignis to love, even with its tearful farewell?
“Well, I did make my Mom play dead so I could save her with my healing lantern,” Ignis said nostalgically. “I got upset at the ending and wanted to do it better, but then Mom just kept playing dead until I started crying. I think it was funny to see me frustrated.”
“Seems mean,” Gwen commented.
“She never did it again though~!” The boy replied.
His jubilation made Gwen laugh into her cup. It was just that optimism that reminded her of the girl with the lantern, always holding onto her beacon of hope, for to let it fall into darkness would mean the end of who she was trying to save. Such cheer comforted her soul, and in this parallel, perhaps she was the boy falling apart into winter, warmed by a kindness undeserved.
At the end of the story, the boy still fell to his doom, but the determination of his friend inspired his spirit to take flight. He traveled unshackled by the weight of the world that called him, finally free to do as he wanted. For if the world couldn’t crush a single girl, then how could it take something as unbound as a soul?
‘Unbound… Unshackled…’
Countless thoughts swirled in Gwen’s head, the parallels lining up in tracks of coherence. What was death to that boy? What was dejection to her heart? Merely a passing thing. Though it battered down their desires, their chests swelled with every want to reach.
To find freedom, is what that boy wanted.
To find truth, is the moment of clarity that affirmed her spirits once more.
So when the strain of her disappointment faded and the lines were finally drawn, there was only one thing she could say in response to Ignis.
“I want to try following that plan you proposed yesterday.”
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And like any more socially competent person, the sudden commitment left Ignis flabbergasted. He furrowed his brow, scrutinizing her expression with piercing eyes. His features then morphed into the facial equivalent of a question mark.
“Where is this conversation going?” He asked quite belatedly.
“I’m not thrilled to upset the people I know,” she continued. “But just like how we met yesterday, I doubt it will stop me for long. I’m well aware of the danger and disappointment that will be aimed at me, but if I want to regain even a semblance of my old life, then I can’t hesitate from that alone. I must pursue the one path open to me.”
“Which is why I accept. Please, help me become someone capable of making the journey on my own.”
A blast of inspiration, of vicious determination, ran through her veins like a thunderstorm, urging her to attain that unreachable summit. It pounded in her heart, fiercer than even the siren call of the White Tower from yesterday. Still, her request must have come out of nowhere to him, as Ignis seemed to be at a complete loss.
That didn’t stop him from being elated though. “Not where I expected this to go, but I’m glad to see you take charge!” But then he glanced away from her while muttering, “And now I don’t have to worry about you going fistfighting with monsters…” Which undermined his supportiveness a bit.
She decided to just be thankful for his initial statement.
“Well, I know what we’re doing for the rest of the day then.” He hopped to his feet. “Grab your Instrument and follow me! We’re going to pick up Maya and fill her in. I spent two hours thinking about a training itinerary for you, but if we really want to get results, we need the mind of the military girl.”
“Do you think she’d be alright with that?” Gwen inquired with a sense of foreboding. “She was not there when you told me about your plan the first time.”
Ignis waved her off, smiling leisurely. “It’s Maya! What’s she gonna do, disapprove of our carefully constructed plan?”
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“I disapprove of this poorly constructed plan.”
Gwen didn’t want to say she called it, but she called it. They had met up with Maya shortly after Ignis’ optimistic proclamation and had barely exchanged hellos when the boy started babbling all about his scheme. Maya stood there and absorbed it all with the gusto of a saint before putting her hand on his shoulder…
And crushing his nascent dreams.
“Okay, it is stupidly thought out, I can admit that much.” Ignis brushed her hand off. “But I know that look. You’ve got another reason for saying no.”
“Yes, I do. And because you’re much more of a tunnel-visioned goon than I pegged you for, let me list them down for you.” Maya started counting out her fingers. “1. The mission starts the day after tomorrow, meaning our timeframe for training her is short. 2. It takes ages to get anybody physically ready, let alone Instrumentally ready like you’re proposing, so we’d have to delay this mission for at least a month to get Gwendolyn where she needs to be.”
“Now you’re just underestimating her. It won’t take–”
“And 3!” She interrupted him by shoving her fingers in Ignis’ face. “This is a job straight from the Mayor himself. The man who is my boss’ boss, the reason I get paid, and someone who could hurt my career if I go against his orders. I’m not you, Ignis. Shit like this will get me kicked off the force! And then what will I do?!”
The exclamation made Ignis wince, his determination sputtering like a blown-out candle. He clearly wanted to fight for his side of the conflict, to establish the ‘whys’ and ‘hows’ of his plan, but that frustrated glare of Maya’s cowed him. He pursed his lips and bit them, sealing away all protests out of shame.
Maya, meanwhile, was visibly fuming. The ends of her ears and her fluffy tail bristled from irritation, her sense of rationality warring with the bullheadedness of their scheme. Like Ignis, she was actively restraining herself, her teeth gnashing in place of her showing them the true depths of her anger.
Gwen swiveled her head between the two of them, feeling somewhat helpless. It was clear that both of them felt quite strongly about their individual sides. Ignis wanted to grant her justice, even if it meant defying his father. However, the person that would receive the brunt of the consequences wouldn’t be him, but Maya, who had a lot riding on her current employment. This whole situation had gone from funny to awkward in an instant and frankly, Gwen did not want to be anywhere near this problem.
She was the one who instigated this, however. And if she knew anything about being a real friend, then she had to at least try to fix it.
“Maya,” In a burst of courage, Gwen put herself between the therianthrope and the boy. “I understand why you are upset, but no harm has been done. Ignis made a reckless suggestion that I accepted firsthand. If you have protests, then that means we’ve found a flaw. So please, let’s… talk about this?”
Gwen knew that her consolation was amateurish and juvenile; just the sort of demand a toddler would make of their arguing parents. But whether through ingrained empathy for Ignis or just plain understanding, Maya grasped the essence of what she was talking about, and did her best to expel her turbulent emotions through a few drawn-out exhales.
“God, you’re right. What am I doing?” Maya shook her head. “I mean– Ignis, I’m still mad at you for dropping this on me this early in the morning, but I’m not going to yell at you.”
Ignis rubbed his upper arm self-consciously. “You’re not?”
“No! I’m sorry you thought I would have.”
“Well… I’m sorry that I didn’t take what’d happen to you into account. I guess I’m just used to being at the center of the fallout.”
As apologies were exchanged, Gwen smiled the rest of the dour mood away. “And I’m happy we’re not standing around being furious at each other. Past incidents have taught me that it’s very stressful.”
Maya’s ears flicked sheepishly. “Yeah, shit, sorry Gwendolyn. I feel like every time we meet up, you end up being a middle-man caught up in my crap.”
“That has been rather consistent,” Gwen said without malice. “We’ve only met up twice, however. There’s plenty of room for us to fill with good old-fashioned pleasantries.”
“...Somehow I can’t imagine that being a diss despite how backhanded it feels.” The fox girl shook her head. “Anyways, let’s put the water under the bridge. I’m not opposed to helping you, Gwendolyn. In fact, I think you deserve some manner of aid after the shitshow I saw you go through, but I’d rather it not involve putting us all in the line of fire.”
Gwen thought about that condition for a good minute. What would constitute ‘out of the line of fire’? Something that wouldn’t get anyone punished, obviously.
“I think… The simplest solution would be to go forth with the training plan, but not take me out on the investigation.”
Ignis rose to protest, but then the implication of her words found their mark. “You’re saying that the only reason we’d get in trouble is because we took you along?”
“Correct,” said Gwen, “It is not necessary to bring me with you on an assigned mission. If you wish to accompany me, then we can go in our own time after you’re finished. It will take some time to spread the news, I presume, so there is quite literally no one to stop us from exploring on our own.”
It was a simple solution. One so obvious that it instantly made Ignis facepalm. He groaned into his hands, crouching down to the ground as deep regret assaulted him.
“I’m really stupid,” He said frankly. “Gods, I can’t believe I didn’t pick up on that.”
“Come on, Ignis. You’re hardly stupid.” Maya patted his back. “You’re just a sunk-cost fallacy kind of guy.”
“Even worse.”
Gwen didn’t even pretend to know what that meant. “If we simply wait until after your mission to leave, then the responsibility won’t be shared equally amongst you. All we would need to do is have Ignis and I go ahead, while Maya stays behind so that others can see her chasing after us. It is already a common sight, isn’t it?”
“Are you talking about plausible deniability?!” Maya seemed shocked.
“That’s a term?” Gwen tilted her head. “Yes then. Plausible deniability it is.”
“Are you sure you’re the same girl that ran full-speed into a dark abyss yesterday?” Ignis asked, now finally over his mental lapse. “This is pretty solid for you.”
“I grew incrementally more intelligent when it became clear that many of my decisions would be treated like a fragile craft of crime.” Gwen stared him dead in the eye. “I must learn to get away with crime.”
A brief pause settled between them as Maya visibly struggled not to laugh.
“Not something you want to say in front of a guardian, y’know?” Maya pointed out. “Ignis is right though. That plan seems infinitely better than the one you were spoutin’ before. Still not super into it on principle, but I say what I mean and I mean what I say.”
Gwen could only smile, the depths of her gratitude unable to be put into words. Ignis, however, had no such verbal qualms.
“Thanks, Maya,” he said, soft and sunny and affectionate. “I’ll make sure to pay you triple.”
“Triple?"
“Yeah, triple. I still owe you for the hot cocoa."
Maya gave him an agreeing shrug. "You aren't wrong. I expect it will be paid with interest."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Ignis gestured at Gwen. "We have a girl to teach. Fresh meat to impress the basics upon. Gotta get her a training plan before we leave! How do you wanna do this?"
Gwen gazed anticipatorily at Maya as the fox girl circled Gwen, taking a critical eye to her entire being, top to bottom.
"If she were a Homo Terrae like you, I'd get her started on the old school exercises we used to do." The Dragoon swished her tail resignedly. "She's not a Homo Terrae though. She's a therianthrope, Homo Animus, and that makes things slightly more complicated because I have no snuffin’ idea what genus she's based on."
What was a genus and why was it relevant right now?
“Well, it’s not like her genetic ancestry could be anything other than monster-based,” Ignis commented, half-answering her unasked question. “Unless there’s some new species of horned lizard that I haven’t heard about.”
“You never know for sure, but let’s treat the monster thing like it’s true for now.” Maya made Gwen flex her arm muscles. “Even untrained, her physiology should be augmented by her modifications, so she should be physically superior to the average Homo Terrae. Do you have a gauge on her strength? Stamina? Speed?”
“She can hit pretty hard. Enough to make my grip shake while we were in a deadlock. And while I’m not too sure about this one, she might have me beat in the speed department too. It was hard to tell, being dragged around in the dark and all.”
Maya clicked her tongue. “Okay, that’s a bit too unspecific. Be right back!”
And just like that, the fox girl was off in a hurry, sprinting into a nearby shed in the blip of a second. Now that she was no longer being asked to model at Maya’s command, Gwen lowered her arms and trod up to Ignis, who stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“What’s a genus?” She asked, finally voicing her earlier inquiry.
“It’s a term about the classification of animal families, like felines and avians,” Ignis replied easily. “But it’s also a layman’s word for the additional ancestry of therianthropes. You know how you’ve got claws and Maya’s got those big ears?”
Gwen nodded succinctly.
“‘Genus’ refers to the part of your genetics that gives you those traits, like how I got brown hair from my Dad.” He tugged on a lock of hair. “Therianthropes have gotten a ton of variety ever since they reverse-engineered the strand mutations for body modifications, which is why we’re saying you’ve got monster genus; there are no animal species that could give you… this combo.”
“Hmm… The more I learn about everyday life here, the more I find it unique.”
The girl in white brandished her claws and kicked out her hooves, examining each groove and obsidian scale. It was interesting to know that this amalgamation of traits could have been something she gave to herself, a permanent choice of her own design. Was this why she felt the call of the White Tower? Did the monster that made the circlet of horns on her head come from its ivory walls?
She didn’t have time to contemplate that possibility, because Maya came rushing back in, holding an odd device in her hand. It was shaped like a pair of pliers, except there was a continuous loop of thick metal in place of the tweezer head.
“It’s a grip tester,” Maya enlightened, squeezing the tool a few times before giving it to Gwen. “The equipment shed always has a few lying around from the guys that keep forgetting about them, so I decided this would be a good way to repurpose them.”
Gwen glanced curiously at the tool now in her claws. She slowly began exerting pressure on it, squeezing it as tightly as she could.
Creak… Creeeaaaak…
“The maximum amount of grip force it can handle is 90kg to 100kg, which is around average for Privates, so we should be able to gauge–”
CRACK!
Maya instantly shut up, slowly turning around as Ignis muffled his screams. Standing there with innocent and child-like guilt, Gwen released the strength tester, and they all watched as the snapped pieces littered the dirt-covered training ground.
Gwen wanted to die.
“I– I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to break–”
“That was awesome!”
Ignis grabbed her by the wrist, smiling with glee. “We need to see you break some shit! Come on!”
“Wait what?!” As she was tugged off to the other end of the training yard, Gwen turned to the silent fox girl. “Maya, help–”
“I’ll get the training dummies set up!” Maya broke out of her silence with an almost feral cackle. “We’re gonna teach ya how to thrash some fuckin’ goons, Gwendolyn!”
Their combined enthusiasm over the prospect of destruction scared Gwen. What did she just unleash?
And what was this feeling of mounting dread, the promise of agony filling her bone marrow?