Wait, why was Reed out here? Sure, she wasn’t scary, but I wasn’t exactly ready for this!

I screamed, then fainted. Fainting made me roll into the water and lily pads. I un-fainted and screamed again, flailing for my life.

Hands reached in and scooped me out. My fight-or-flight brain convinced me I was back in the earlier scene of horror, confronting the fairy woman and her train of chirps. My dripping ears instinctively listened for the insect howl, but heard no chirps at all. When my eyes managed to open and turn toward the opposite bank, the queen was gone too. There was practically nothing—even the couple of frogs resting on the lily pads, thanks to my desperate flailing, had hopped away. There was just me and Reed, and the stinging cold against my wet fur.

Reed set me on the ground. I didn’t even bother shaking myself out—I knew it wouldn’t help.

“Sorry about that,” she said, chuckling nervously. She was crouching, wearing weathered jeans, brown boots dulled by travel, and a dusty tan shirt. “I thought I heard something over here, and, well…I didn’t expect to bump into you. Surprising you…" Her mouth twitched. Did she just stifle a smile? "It was an honest mistake. I promise I’ll be more cautious around here next time!”

It’s fine, I wanted to say.

“Meow,” I told her, which amounted to the same thing.

Wait, what did you think you heard? I wanted to add…but couldn’t.

“Would you like to come back to the cabin with me?”

I would’ve loved to! (For that matter, since a strange spirit had just visited me and all, it was in my best interest to get away from this pond ASAP!) But there was something I officially couldn’t procrastinate on any longer. My mind was already in panic mode for one reason. It was time for it to be in it for another!

That’s right, Taipha, I told my still-hesitant self. You can’t keep putting it off! Fate has brought you together! It’s now or never!!

Poof!

Two objects were flung dazzlingly out of my Inventory!

The first was a twirling, gentle flower, wafting down to earth like a sky dancer. That was the pink lotus flower that held so much emotional weight for me. While I kind of wanted to keep it as my own memento, I was also thinking that Reed might appreciate it. Plus, more practically, she was the one with the house’s worth of room, and my Inventory had like zero space.

Second came the quilt that had given me so many headaches. This was the showpiece. Reed might not have noticed the gashes re-stitched to perfection by a certain Heidschi, but I certainly did.

This was as close to erasing my old shame as I’d come…is what I thought until I realized the thing had been ejected directly over Reed’s head, consuming her. Also, the edges fell on the moist ground. Briefly I wondered what my subconscious was thinking when it made me do this. I mean, it would have gotten slightly wet in every possible scenario.

For a few seconds, Reed just stayed there, crouched underneath the blanket. Like she had no idea what was going on. Which was probably right.

Then she wrestled her way out of it with surprising franticness. While I did feel deeply sorry for the way I’d de-Inventorized all of this, and it certainly wasn’t making for a tender moment, watching Reed struggle her way out and eventually mash the poor quilt into a rough bundle made me wish I had a camcorder.

And then her eyes welled up with tears.

I was so scared. I berated myself: of course her heart is too sensitive for crap like this! You need to develop social skills already!

But, rubbing her eyes with a fist, she managed, “Thank you. I knew you didn’t mean it that way, didn’t mean to…steal anything. And I was correct, right? I never doubted you.” She sniffed. “Anyway, we’ve only just met, and you…”

For the first time, she looked over at the designs on the quilt. My limbs seized up, in fear that she was finding the flaws.

She began to rub one patch between her fingers. At first, I read the look on her face as disgust, even horror. When she spoke, I knew it was awe.

Quietly, she said, “That part was ragged for years.”

Though I had no idea what she meant by that, how the quilt had looked one day compared to the next, I did feel massive relief.

So she wasn’t sad. She was just raw and sincere. And she was looking the quilt over with that same expression of heartbreaking appreciation.

Meanwhile, I was sitting here unable to get out of my own head and stop analyzing my own reactions and thoughts.

I felt extremely awkward just sitting here and taking praise. You’d think that would be my pompous prideful dream, but…I guess I relished the idea of praise more than the getting of it. More than that, though, my instincts wanted me to run and hide. But I stayed.

There. Unofficial side-quest done. Reed had her still-kinda-nasty, likely-sentimental quilt back.

Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata Oh wow, good point! You should really get something for that.

What huh really?! You can’t make up quests after the quest’s already done!

Don’t complain or you’ll get nothing~

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Complete!

Quest: Give Reed Back Her Nasty Quilt Rewards:

+Bonus EXP!

+1500 Gold!

IT’S NOT NASTY! I thought, right after I’d accidentally considered the quilt “still kinda nasty.”

Seriously, where was the gold on my Stats screens?! Where was this gold even going?!?!

Level Up!

Lv. 11 → Lv. 13 EXP: 43% (832/1950)

HP 100% (303/303) SP 100% (248/248)

ATK 49 (+1!)

INT 33 (+2!)

DEF 35

WIS 24 (+1!)

SPD 42

Aw…Levelling Up felt good, but having all these Stats screens pile up between me and Reed like classroom test dividers made me feel twitchy and awkward, especially after I’d just indirectly slapped her face with this quilt…

She didn’t sound angry or even disappointed, though, oddly.

“You look anxious,” she said. “And tired. Do you want me to take you back?”

And she held out her hand, breaking through the divide.

***

I didn’t want Reed to carry me back. I wanted to do at least some walking under my own power—I didn’t want to be carried, didn’t want to ever be so much of a burden again. A supernatural being like me should do better.

When we got to the cabin’s kitchen doorway, I was in my humanoid form. Fortunately for us and our backs, the gifts to Reed were temporarily in my Inventory. Reed herself had an arm around my shoulder, practically hoisting me upright. You have no idea how physically draining emotional turmoil can be until you’ve actually passed out mid-walk.

Still, there was something incredibly nice about this. It definitely felt like the world was messing with me, like one moment I was doomed and the next I was horribly lucky.

Then again, things were markedly looking up. I wasn’t alone anymore. In fact, I kind of had a squadron. Beyond Sierra, my eye in the sky, I had determined Chora and that wacky witch girl whose name I still didn’t know.

But best of all, I had Reed. Somehow, even though she wasn’t anyone’s god or Arkmagus, she was the figure looming largest in my mind. Perhaps only because of the way I knew her: not through a veil of religiosity, not through the veil of the System.

I decided I was doing pretty well so far. Because even when I lost, I won.

The green-haired girl and the blue-haired girl were in such a heated argument that they didn’t even notice when Reed opened the door and walked us into the kitchen.

“…but I knew it wouldn’t be a problem for you,” Chora said.

“Why didn’t you just ask me first? You’re always doing this, acting like your way is the right way without even—consulting anyone!” The witch’s head, hair, and hands were shaking in wild frustration. (Not her hat, though, She wasn’t wearing that right now—maybe her exaggerated motions had thrown it off.) “I can’t just make a cantrip in a week!”

“Yes you can. And you have.”

“Not while I’m studying? Not for some random reason? Did you ever think about that part? Did you ever think?”

It, uh, occurred to me that I was the one they were indirectly talking about, because I’d requested a cantrip from Chora…but I supposed now that Chora had never been the cantrip maker after all. This was awkward, even more so than I’d predicted.

Reed rapped her knuckle on the opened door. Chora jumped with surprise, revealing how keyed-up she’d really been during the argument despite her stoic face. The witch’s head turned.

Then my presence dawned on them. Chora’s eyes darted back and forth from my head to Reed’s, struggling to make the connection. The witch’s face brightened with a too-huge smile.

Reed walked us a few paces further in and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt. Well, not really, but…I’d like to introduce you to my friend!…”

Oh joy. That pause where a name would’ve gone.

“…my friend who…who likes fighting in the woods. She’d like to…”

I had to save her from this stilted introduction to people who had actually already met me. But how?

With a huge throat-clearing cough, I smiled, waved my clawed hand, and proudly said, “Meow!”

End of Book 1

(next chapter coming this Friday as usual : ) )