Damien woke with a grogginess to his energy that he would normally associate with the dread of waking up for school. Of course, it took him only a moment to remember that he had no such obligations anymore, and hadn’t for a while now. It was bizarre. He’d graduated from high school literally a few hours before he had gotten sucked into the Aether, and his experiences ever since had gradually gotten more and more bizarre, and he was still processing some of it days after the fact.
He kicked off the sheets and stood up, stretching his arms above his head before looking around the room. It was a plain but comfortable place at Fortune’s Rest, the hotel that Corbyn had been staying at for the past few weeks. It was directly adjacent to the Canis’s room with a doorway allowing entry between their rooms, in case of emergency. The bedframe was wooden and impeccably made, with an adjacent dresser that held a glass of water right next to it. Damien immediately drained said glass, his parched throat thankful for the influx of hydration, and set about cleaning himself for the day ahead.
It had been a few days since he had arrived in Lamora’s underground Conduit Circle and been saved by Corbyn, and it had been... well, relatively benign, if surreal. For instance, the plumbing that was international across almost the entirety of Xaunis was strangely modern, with access to water seen as a universal right across the whole world. However, instead of using boilers to moderate the water’s temperature, there were tiny, almost microscopic runes along the pipes that could adjust it as much as someone wanted, from scalding hot to freezing cold.
Damien filled his own bath until it was both pleasantly warm and relatively high, sinking into the perfect water with a sigh. It was nice, if odd after everything that had happened to him.
Unwilling to fully unpack that can of worms, he pulled up his Status, looking through everything that summed up his life until that point.
[Status]
Name: Damien Sinclair
Race: Traveler (Male)
Age: 18
Class: N/A
Level: N/A
XP: N/A
Profession: N/A
Affinity: Dormant
Stats:
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 14
Intelligence: 14
Constitution: 10
Endurance: 10
Wisdom: 10
Vitality: 9
Vigor: 10
Willpower: 11
Reaction: 15
Stat Points: 0
It was the same way it had been the first day he had come to Xaunis, making no real progress with any of his Stats or his Level, despite his few experiments. Corbyn had explained that, without a proper Ceremony of Awakening, nothing he did would bear tangible results with his Status beyond the normal results of intense workout sessions. So, that meant no Skills, Spells, or Abilities until that got done. Which, thankfully, would be resolved this afternoon.
It had taken Corbyn a bit of time, but they had managed to get a private room booked for his Ceremony of Awakening without much fuss. That was more than okay in Damien’s book. He really didn’t want to become famous overnight like some chosen one from on-high. There would be way too many eyes on him to live comfortably otherwise.
Damien had also learned what each of the Stats did for him, mostly through a crash course with Corbyn, both in terms of the magical and physical effects of each Stat. Strength was by far the most obvious of the bunch, as it increased his physical strength, and was by in large his lowest Stat. It certainly explained why he didn’t seem to have much muscle on him. Dexterity was the capacity for physical nimbleness and overall speed, which would allow him to do delicate things with greater mastery. Intelligence wasn’t quite as obvious as the other two, as it both increased magical damage by a large margin and increased the rate at which he could process information. Admittedly, that was something he had yet to wrap his head around, but Damien had time to figure it out as he went.
Constitution, Endurance, and Wisdom all served similar purposes, with Constitution increasing his overall durability, Endurance increasing his pain tolerance and resistance to physical fatigue, and Wisdom increasing his ability to retain information and resistance to mental fatigue. Again, that was more of an academic stance than one gained through experience, but he didn’t doubt Corbyn. The Canis knew what he was talking about.
There were also the three that controlled his regeneration rates, with Vitality controlling how fast his wounds would heal, Vigor how quickly his stamina would come back to him, and Willpower assisting with his speed of Mana recovery. They were much less obvious than even the previous three, especially since he hadn’t really exerted himself in this world yet, but apparently also provided a greater deal of resistance to status effects. That was not something that Damien felt like testing out in the near future.
Reaction was the only Stat that seemed to have no tangible benefit, and other than the fact that it was by in large his highest stat, it was entirely unremarkable. Though, Corbyn seemed to imply that the Stat was important. He wasn’t sure exactly how yet, but it seemed to have a lot to do with the way his body moved.
As Damien continued to clean himself, he began considering the other lists he had access to. The status of his Quests had yet to change, though one of them was going to be resolved that very day. There wouldn’t be much point in going over them again, even if he felt like he was missing something. Unable to think of anything else that would free him of boredom while he lathered himself with soaps and shampoo products, he brought up the other list, and read through each description one by one.
[Traits]
| Font of Possibilities (Common) | Mana Well (Common) | Polyglot (Rare) | Eyes of the Night Wolf (Ancient) | Instincts of the Night Wolf (Ancient) | Mark of the Night Wolf (Legendary)
[Font of Possibilities]
Rarity: Common
Description: because of your unique circumstances in coming to a new world, you are not bound to the predestined selections of a race. Your potential is truly boundless.
Effect: + 10 Stat Points per Level
[Mana Well]
Rarity: Common
Description: due to your experiences within the Aether, your capacity for magic is greater than the average denizen of physical reality.
Effect: 20% increase to total Mana Capacity
[Polyglot]
Rarity: Rare
Description: due to your time in the Aether, the concept of language bends to your whims, allowing little to be kept from you without effort.
Effect: Understanding of many non-encrypted languages of the universe.
Those were the normal ones, and explained a few things about what he could do now. Most obvious were the fact that his Mana was larger than what would normally be dictated by his Wisdom Stat, and that he could understand what most people were saying even though they obviously weren’t speaking English. He wasn’t sure exactly how valuable having ten free Stat Points per Level was at that moment in time, but having the freedom to choose what he did with them helped immensely.
But that brought him to the last three traits. The ones given to him by Noctis. The ones he knew the least about.
[Eyes of the Night Wolf]
Rarity: Ancient
Description: Noctis, the fabled Night Wolf, has granted you the ability to see as he once did, as a mortal beast. Use this gift wisely.
Effect: Access to [Night Vision], [???], and [???]
*NOTICE* full details and effects of Trait: [Eyes of the Night Wolf] will remain dormant until a [Ceremony of Awakening] has been completed.
[Instincts of the Night Wolf]
Rarity: Ancient
Description: Noctis, the fabled Night Wolf, has granted you the ability to tap into instincts he once used to survive his mortal life. Use this gift wisely.
Effect: Access to [Danger Sense] and [???]
*NOTICE* full details and effects of Trait: [Instincts of the Night Wolf] will remain dormant until a [Ceremony of Awakening] has been completed.
[Mark of the Night Wolf]
Rarity: Legendary
Description: Noctis, the fabled Night Wolf, has seen fit to grant you his assistance, with no obligations or debts owed. This is not a favor. There are no favors among friends.
Effect: Grants the marked the [Eyes of the Night Wolf] Trait, the [Instincts of the Night Wolf] Trait, the [???] Trait, the [???] Spell, and a stable [???] Affinity
*NOTICE* full details and effects of Trait: [Mark of the Night Wolf] will remain dormant until a [Ceremony of Awakening] has been completed.
It seemed that, although the Mark of the Night Wolf had fully integrated with him, Damien still couldn’t access the full capabilities that Noctis had granted to him until the Ceremony was done with. He had been a tad bit worried about him planting something in his mind to unleash some kind of evil upon Xaunis, but that didn’t line up with Noctis as he’d met him. The wolf had been too curious, and too helpful, for Damien’s reincarnation to be anything but an act of genuine compassion.
Plus, he had to admit to some curiosity regarding the mystery of those question marks. It was like a puzzle! A bit, anyway.
Still, given how Noctis appeared in the Aether, what Corbyn had explained about Affinities, and the fact that he wasn’t dumb, Damien could guess what the Affinity he likely possessed. Corbyn insisted on not making any rash conclusions until after his Ceremony, which Damien agreed with wholeheartedly. Still, now that the day was here, he couldn’t help but think that his assumption was most likely correct.
Umbra. The Affinity of Shadow. The one for which Noctis was a Primordial Spirit.
It was unlikely that he had any kind of dominion over the other affinities. Especially not Lux, Ignis, or Fulgur. They seemed anathema to the wolf’s very nature. Still, Corbyn seemed to think that the possibility was there, even if it was a distant one.
Still, he has a point. Best not to make any assumptions about what my Awakening will do for me. Especially since we’re going to find out one way or another.
Damien’s bath eventually turned lukewarm, forcing him to leave, dry off, and dress for the day. He put on another set of the recruit clothing that he and Corbyn had taken from the underground base. They seemed to suit Damien, in an odd way. He especially liked the boots. Their heft and the sound they made as they made contact with the ground... it comforted him. Reminded him of home.
He strapped the jian to his left hip, put on a pair of fingerless leather gloves to hide his mark without drawing too much attention to himself, and knocked on Corbyn’s door. The Canis quickly answered it, giving Damien a once-over and a firm, approving nod. “Alright. It’s good that you’re ready, but we still have a few hours, if you want to look around some more.”
Damien scratched at the back of his head, fidgeting as he tried to look comfortable. “Sorry. Just... nervous.”
“That’s a fair stance,” his prospective mentor said with a nod. “Awakenings are a big moment in people’s lives. You’re a bit old to get it done now, but we can chalk that up to being a late bloomer or a lack of funds to secure an Awakening until now.”
“About that... why are we keeping the fact that I’m a Traveler a secret? It doesn’t seem like keeping something that important from people is going to end well.”
“Mostly to keep people off your case for a while,” Corbyn explained. “As you can imagine, Travelers aren’t exactly common, even in a world as magically saturated as Xaunis. So, if word gets around that one’s shown up, people are gonna talk. And not all it will be good.”
“Oh.” That definitely made sense. A lot of sense. Though Corbyn had danced around the topic rather well, it seemed that a Traveler of some kind had done something to cause a bad reputation with the rest of his... kind? He guessed that was the correct term, even if it felt awkward to use. It wasn’t like there was a set population of interdimensional wanderers on Xaunis. Even if that did sound pretty amazing.
“Won’t it get out eventually? It’s not like this is something we can hide forever.”
“Yeah, but it’d be much better for you if you could gather enough power to defend yourself and your own before the news breaks. And before you ask, the only ones who know for a fact that you’re a Traveler are you, me, and one of the higher-ups in my Order. Other than that, as far as everyone else is concerned, you’re just a bread-and-butter Unawoken human. Unusual, but not impossible.”
“Okay. And you’re sure that no one’s gonna think I’m... weird?” Damien asked, pointing to his eyes.
“Why would they? Violet’s a perfectly normal eye color to have. A bit uncommon, but not unheard of.”
“... nevermind,” Damien replied, feeling surprisingly good. He’d been feeling pretty self-conscious whenever he’d gone outside without Corbyn. Like people had noticed the strange hue of his eyes and judged him for it. As it turned out, that had all been in his head, applying the biases of a non-magical world to his new one. It was amazing how many things could be cleared up simply by talking to someone.
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“Anyway, feel free to wander around for a bit. Just be sure to get to the Hall of Ceremonies by two-thirty, alright?”
“Got it. Two thirty, on the dot!” Damien said as he jogged to his door, ready to really start exploring the city instead of hanging around the hotel and the farmer’s market next to it. It helped that the Hall of Ceremonies was about an hour’s walk from Fortune’s Rest. He’d have plenty of chances to take a few detours.
----------------------------------------
Lamora was oftentimes called the City of Lies, for a few reasons that Damien knew about and many more that he did not. He knew that there were many thieves across the city, both the ones that crossed over rooftops at night and the ones that swindled people out of their money. He also knew that the politicians of the city oftentimes made ludicrous claims of change and progress, only to be little better than their predecessors. That was all he really knew about the place.
Still, with the population of thieves in the city, he wondered if anyone had bothered to create a thieves’ guild. It wasn’t like that kind of organization would publicly advertise themselves to people on the street.
Even if one particular scam artist was attempting to convince others on the street of that very idea.
“Come one, come all, to the grand opening of the Locke and Keye Guild Hall!” a man in his late thirties called to the street, waving flyers about in his hand with a stylized symbol of a padlock and key overlaid on one another. He had to realize just how pointless this kind of scam was, right? Damien didn’t consider himself particularly smart, but even he knew that it was a stupid ploy.
He let the man be, and instead began to fully appreciate the sights, sounds, and smells of the city. Dark though its secrets might be, he did not yet know their extent, and that ignorance allowed him to enjoy it, for the moment. The street he walked on was wide and well decorated, with a few stalls set up at strategic points that had clearly been designed for the purpose, selling produce or jewelry as the stall dictated. There were also several dedicated stores on both sides of the street, from restaurants to boutiques. Not quite as outrageously lavish and flashy as something from the rich part of Lamora, but still considerably upper-middle class in its tastes.
Damien kept walking, taking a looking at some of the store windows before continuing on. Even if he’d had the money – Xaunis ran on an international coin-based currency that Corbyn had identified as Camori – he wouldn’t have stopped to buy anything. It all looked so... ostentatious. It was ostentatious to the point that being flashy was the whole point of the products. The Traveler preferred his things relatively simple, and Corbyn shared his opinion, despite the Canis’ rather large purse. Still, he hoped to find a store that he could revisit, when he had more time.
As though answering his silent hope, a store of just that description soon came into view. It was an understated place, with undecorated windows and little more than Mana-powered lights to reveal its contents. Inside, the store held a myriad collection of books. From tomes that looked to weigh at least twenty pounds to thin little things that could be finished in minutes, it was absolutely filled with the things. And Damien couldn’t help but smile as he used every ounce of self-control to not press himself to the shop’s window.
He glanced up at the sign for the place. It was a classic shop keep’s sign that you would see in a medieval tv show, with a book as its main background and a quill crossed over it. Written below that symbol were the words “Regina’s Emporium of Books and Spells.” The name of the shop alone was intriguing, especially with how little Damien knew about how magic worked. So, without much hesitation, he stepped into the shop with excitement in his eyes.
The first thing that Damien noticed about the place was that it was larger on the inside than it had appeared on the outside. Much, much larger. The interior was not lavishly decorated, but was instead optimized for every inch of extra space this anomaly had granted the shop, as rows upon rows of bookshelves stretched on for what seemed like several dozen meters. They were all divided according to genre, from historical accounts and textbooks to works of fiction, with sub-genres therein as needed. It reminded him so much of his old world’s version of a library that he may have thought he was back on Earth if several of those same books weren’t currently flying around the shop, sorting and organizing themselves. The sight of the blatant and casual use of magic was so startling and awe-inspiring that he hadn’t noticed the shop’s only employee.
“You here to buy something, kid?” a woman asked from behind a humble wooden counter. She was a woman of average height and build who looked to be somewhere in her late thirties to early forties, with smooth, dark brown skin and long black hair pulled into cornrows as neat and tidy as the rest of her appearance. A neatly pressed blue shirt and gray pants loosely hung from her form, and a pair of rounded wire-rim spectacles hung just above her deep brown eyes and smooth features.
“Uh... sorry, I kinda... this is a bit overwhelming,” Damien admitted as he turned to her, remembering the story that he had Corbyn had worked out to make up for his current lack of knowledge. “I’m not exactly from... around here. This is my first time seeing this much magic in one place.”
Not technically a lie, even he had been in the Aether for an unknown amount of time. That wasn’t technically magic, just its source. Although, if it was the source of magic, did that mean he had seen much more magic than what was present in this bookshop? The paradoxical thoughts made his head hurt, and he shook himself of them before they could overwhelm him.
The spectacled woman accepted this explanation as it was, smiling at him with wry amusement. “I kinda guessed that. No one has a look like that on their face unless they’ve been truly surprised. You from somewhere out in the boonies?”
“Something like that,” Damien said, rolling with her assumption. “I’m from a small village of mostly humans called Redmire. You’ve probably never heard of it. I didn’t realize just how little I knew about the world until a few weeks ago.”
“Redmire, huh?” the woman said, putting a hand on her chin as she went into a brief thought. “Yeah, can’t say I’ve heard of it. Though, given the name, I’m guessing it’s from somewhere in Errenyl?”
“Yup,” Damien lied. He knew next to nothing about the geography of Xaunis, but thankfully Corbyn happened to know of a small, lesser-known village in his home country of Errenyl that consisted of mostly humans and had a huge gap in their knowledge of the outside world, mainly due to the fact that no country recognized the place as part of their territory, and thus, no officials had bothered to visit in almost a century. For the moment, it was a seemingly perfect cover story.
“Huh. Guess I can see why. Wanderlust get to you?”
“Something like that.”
“Entirely understandable. I’m not exactly a local myself. Not from a different continent like you, but I’ve been in the city for some forty years now. I’d like to think I’ve gotten a handle on how to navigate this place.”
“Ah, that makes...” Damien looked suddenly confused, noticing a slight inconsistency with her story. “You said you’ve been here for forty years?”
“And proud of them! Why?”
“It’s just... were you brought here when you were a child?”
“No, I came here myself. Why?”
“Then how... you look like you’re in your forties, so the only logical explanation I can think of is if you were brought here as a kid.”
After a brief moment of thought, the spectacled woman smiled at him snapping her fingers as she realized something. “Oh, I get it! You’re judging my age based on my physical appearance. Given your background, that makes sense.”
“Oh. So, you’re... fifty-something?”
The woman chuckled at Damien’s ignorance eve as she corrected him. “Close, but not quite. I’m a hundred and fifty years old.”
His jaw immediately dropped.
The dark-haired woman chuckled at his apparent shock, even closing the book she had open on her countertop. “Man, it’s been a while since I’ve seen that reaction! I forgot how fun it was to see it.”
Damien just laughed in embarrassment. “I guess that goes to show just how little I know about... well, a lot of things.”
“I can see that. Well, with luck, and the many varieties of books available in my emporium, you should be able to close up that gap in knowledge. As you might’ve guessed from the sign, I’m Regina. May I ask for your name?”
“Damien,” the Traveler replied with a smile. It was nice to find a genuinely friendly face around here. Sure, Damien trusted Corbyn implicitly, but he was still adjusting to the Canis and the sheer banality of the rest of the races of Xaunis. He didn’t even know what half of them were called, and that would do nothing but cause him problems in the long run. “I don’t suppose you’re in the habit of loaning books? I don’t exactly have any Camori on me right now.”
“Nah. Sorry, but I’ve gotta make ends meet somehow,” Regina said with a shrug.
“I have some Camori to spare, if you’d like to grab a few books.”
Damien and Regina turned at the voice, tone young and slightly playful. The Traveler’s mouth immediately dried as he looked upon the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She looked young, her head coming up to just above his shoulder, and seemed to be around his age, at least physically. She had smooth, dark skin the color of chocolate, a slender figure, and the suggestion of attractive curves beneath a neat, long-sleeved white blouse and a black skirt that trailed most of the way down her thighs. A pair of polished brown leather boots trailed up her calves almost all the way to her knees, giving her a slightly adventurous air. Her face was heart-shaped, with smooth, graceful features only further enhanced by her faintly applied red eye shadow and the matching crimson shade on her lips that only enhanced their fullness. Most striking of all, however, was her hair and eyes. The former was long, lustrous, and as white as freshly fallen snow, pulled back into a single long braid that trailed to her lower back. Her eyes were silver in their hue, and wide with a curiosity and intelligence he hadn’t encountered in his eighteen years of life.
She graced the Traveler with a friendly smile, causing Damien’s heart to skip a beat as he desperately fought down a blush. The beautiful woman offered her hand, and introduced herself. “I’m Felicia. It’s nice to see finally someone else around here.”
“D-Damien,” he said, stumbling over his own name for a brief second before correcting himself and taking her proffered hand. Her hand was soft, with slender fingers and a gentle, though firm, grip. But he also felt the slight callouses on her hand through his glove, a slight roughness that he could barely feel. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to impose on you.”
“It’s no trouble,” she said, pulling out a small pouch and placing it on Regina’s counter. “It was burning a bit of a hole in my pocket anyway. Might as well use it to help someone out.”
The spectacled woman looked at Felicia with a raised brow, opening the pouch briefly to gaze within before nodding to the white-haired girl. “Yeah, this’ll cover about five or six books that aren’t enchanted. Knock yourself out, kids.”
With a wide smile, Felicia took Damien’s hand and guided him to the history section of Regina’s shop, quickly skimming through the sections and selecting a tome from the large selection of books. It had many copies, but this one looked to be the latest edition of a serialized sourcebook.
“The History of Xaunis and Its Many Nations, by Willis McKinley,” Felicia said, placing the rather sizable book in Damien’s hands. “If you’re looking for something that’ll fill in some gaps in your education for most stuff, you can’t do better than this old tome!”
“Thanks. This’ll really help,” he said, opening the cover and quickly finding the chapter index. It went on for a while. Quite a few pages, actually. How many pounds was this thing?
“Well, other than that, is there anything in particular you’d like to learn about?” Felicia asked, causing Damien to notice her long, graceful lashes as she blinked at him. It didn’t seem to be intentional on her part, but her sheer beauty was causing the Traveler to get tongue-tied. That usually happened to him around pretty girls, but it had never been this bad. At least, he didn’t think so.
“Hm? You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” she asked, waving a hand in front of his face as he stared at her. The Traveler quickly realized what he was doing, and shook himself from his stupefied stare.
“Sorry! I-I didn’t mean to... sorry,” he apologized, looking down at the book in his arms with shame. He’d screwed up. Now she was going to assume the worst of him and call him something awful. It usually didn’t happen, but... middle school and high school hadn’t been good for any of his social skills. Or lack thereof, to be more precise.
“Hey, it’s alright. I guess you’ve never seen someone who looks like me, right?”
Several seconds of silence passed between the two as Damien slowly looked up at the beautiful girl, her playful grin shifting into a sympathetic smile. “Honestly, I’ve never met someone who hasn’t at least heard of Seraphites before. It’s surprising, but a bit refreshing, too.”
“Seraphites?” Damien asked, the term itself unfamiliar, even if it sounded like he had heard something like it before.
“Yeah. We’re almost identical to humans in most ways. Biologically, at least,” Felicia answered. “The only main difference that you can see is in the natural white hair and silver eyes, which everyone with Seraphite blood has to some degree. And we tend to have longer lifespans, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Damien nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. It still seems a little weird, but I get it. I think.”
“Feel free to ask me any other questions you have,” she said. “It may prove entertaining.
“Also, before you ask, I’m only twenty.”
Damien flinched, the dark-skinned woman nailing his silent, unvoiced question right on the head. The smirked at his reaction, chuckling as she dismissed her comment with a wave. “Sorry, sorry! That was mean.”
“No, you hit it right on the head,” he admitted. “I wasn’t going to ask, but I was a bit curious after Regina and all.”
“Hey, it’s a fair question. Especially since it’s been... what, three minutes since she dropped that on you?”
“Yeah. So, uh... do you have any suggestions for fiction books? I haven’t had a lot of time to read lately, and I’d like to get back into the habit.”
An even wider smile graced Felicia’s face, quickly taking him by the arm over to the fiction section. Before long, the two started talking shop about genres and preferred settings for stories. Damien got lost in the conversation for a little while, the familiarity of the subject a stark contrast to everything else in the shop. Xaunis had everything from heist stories to romances to autobiographies that read like traditional fantasy stories. There was even some smut, which was nestled towards the very back of the fiction section in order to keep it away from the prying eyes of little kids.
“It had its own sign and everything...” Damien said to himself as he and Felicia turned away from the adult section after taking a wrong turn.
“Sorry,” Felicia apologized with a sheepish grin that somehow never lost her natural grace. “I kinda forgot it was there for a minute, and not everyone’s into that kind of stuff.”
“I-It’s okay,” the Traveler reassured her, trying to resist the sudden blush coming into his cheeks. “It’s good to know where it is, anyway.”
“Why? You thinking about going back there later?” she asked, her tone slightly flirty.
Damien was about to deny it, to do his usual introvert thing and try not to die of embarrassment... and then decided to try something different. Sure, he was a really quiet guy, and that wasn’t going to change, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a bit confident in himself.
“Maybe,” he replied, his own voice sounding interested. “Depends on what she has in stock.”
Felicia just looked at him for several seconds, her face blank. Damien wondered if he had somehow said the wrong thing, and was about to correct himself when he noticed the grin working its way onto the Seraphite’s lips. “Now that’s a pleasant surprise! Good on you.”
“... you’re not mad?” Damien asked.
“Why would I be mad?” she asked, walking through another section with the Traveler just behind her. She trailed her fingers across several tomes until she found the one she was looking for, pulling the volume out and placing it atop the other three books in Damien’s arms. “Most people tend to deny their interest in things they think are embarrassing, especially when it comes to stuff they want to keep private. Which is a fair stance to take, but if you keep all your hobbies to yourself, you’ll never find someone who shares your interests.”
Felicia gave him a coy look then. “Sorry to say that I probably won’t be discussing erotica with you anytime soon. You seem nice, but we kinda just met.”
“I figured,” Damien replied with a nod. “Want to talk fiction sometime?”
“Sure, once you’ve got a proper baseline,” she responded. “Maybe you could regale me with some stories from your village.”
“Maybe I will.”
The two went back and forth like this for almost half an hour while Felicia looked for the last two books to give to him. It had started out slightly awkward, with Damien reacting to the conversation rather than participating, but he had eventually found the young Seraphite’s rhythm and managed to match it. And it was... easy. Surprisingly easy. Once they really got into it, he felt like they could go on for hours about nothing in particular and still be enraptured in talking to one another. It was strange. Damien had read about something like this before, but he had never expected to experience it himself.
New life, new me. I don’t have to do everything exactly the same. Even if I still prefer books and quiet.
Before long, the two had found those last two books, Regina placing them in a bag that seemed far too small for the task, until they disappeared within as though they had vanished.
“Inventory Bag,” she explained, smiling at the sight of Damien’s surprise. “Not nearly as expensive as a full ring, but these ones degrade pretty fast, so get ‘em out of here before the end of the day, alright?”
He nodded, taking the surprisingly small bag before turning back to Felicia. “Thanks again. You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“It was nothing,” the beautiful Seraphite said. “Besides, it turned out interesting. It was fun talking to you.”
“... um... without... sounding presumptuous...” Damien began, trying to find a way to ask his question in a way that didn’t sound like he was asking her on a date before he finally gave up. “Could we do this again sometime? I... I had fun. It’s not... easy for me to talk to most people.”
Felicia looked briefly surprised before giving Damien a small, sympathetic smile. “Of course. I had fun, too. Same time in, say... three days?”
“That sounds good to me,” Damien acquiesced. Bidding the two women a polite farewell, the Traveler walked on to the Hall of Ceremonies with a new skip in his step, and a smile on his face. He hadn’t felt this light since he’d awoken in the Aether. And it felt... liberating.
----------------------------------------
“You like him,” Regina said to Felicia, cutting straight to the point with a sly smile on her face. Dammit, the woman always knew how to throw her off balance!
“Not like that,” Felicia replied with a slight blush of embarrassment. She had to admit, Damien was fairly handsome, and even looked cute while she’d placed book after book into his arms. But those thoughts were skin deep, and she easily brushed them off. “His reaction was genuine, and he really started opening up over the course of the conversation. I honestly lost track of time for a while there. It was... fun.”
“So, you were serious?” Regina asked, her brow raised slightly above her glasses. “You’re going to keep that promise?”
“Yes, auntie,” Felicia replied, turning to the spectacled woman with her hands on her hips, here gaze stern. “I wouldn’t have accepted if I wasn’t serious.”
“Hey, I wasn’t going to stop you either way,” Regina said, hands held up in surrender. “I know better than to make that mistake. Just... be careful. I’m not the only one worried about you, Princess.”
Her face flinched at the title as Regina noticed her slip-up. “Shit. Sorry about that, Felicia. Old habits.”
“It’s okay,” Felicia said through clenched teeth. “Just... don’t do it again, alright? I hate the title.”
“I know,” Regina said, genuinely apologetic. “Still, why did you come here today, anyway? You were supposed to come in tomorrow.”
“I needed to get away from the castle for a while.” The castle... and her family. And far, far away from her stepfather in particular.
“Well... I know just the cure for that.” Regina said, her tone turning mischievous as she pulled out the latest in one of Felicia’s guilty pleasure smut series. Blushing slightly, she wordlessly took the book from her adoptive aunt and opened the book, losing herself in a world of intrigue, lust, and tense passion, while thoughts of a potential friend and her familial problems faded to the back of her mind.