[October 25, 2042]
There was an annoying noise. Cal regretfully opened his eyes. Yes, there was no doubt, that was the sound of a princess.
“Honestly, I don’t see why I need to be bothered with this sort of thing,” said the voice as it slowly drifted closer to where Cal lay in the grass. “If the peasant is tripping over himself and getting injured, it’s certainly not my responsibility to use my precious abilities to patch him up. What do you think magic is — a convenience that can solve any sort of juvenile issue? No, no! Magic is a noble art, the precious efforts of House Cormac. Even if it is for the favor of a precious subordinate such as yourself Ram, erm, that is to say, a precious friend like yourself, I cannot be so casual with how I wield these powers. And for that matter, Ram, I need to ask, what in the realms are you wearing? You may not be a royal like myself, but you are still undoubtedly a lady, and that entitles you to a certain aspect of dignity that you must be wary of and adhere to! Is this leather? Spandex, you say? I am not familiar with the term, though I will note it looks somewhat familiar somehow. Well, whatever it is, it’s not appropriate… it, erm, leaves nothing to the imagination in terms of shape. Ram, you must be mindful of such things with a body type such as yours. Look at this dress that I am wearing, for example. Elegant, ethereal, conforming to my body yet still leaving plenty to the mind of the beholder. This is the essence of upper-class fashion! Remember it well. Perhaps us two and Bridget can go shopping one day-”
The voice mercifully paused for a moment, and a shadow passed over Cal. The smug face of Aina ud Cormac, fourth princess of Luvinia, looked down on him, her beautiful red hair shining in the sunlight. “Are you just laying upon the filthy earth, peasant? Just as well. It suits you, this location, in the respect that it is also equivalent symbolically to our positions!”
“This must be a great relief to you, would-be princess.” muttered Cal, trying to suppress the pain in his temple. “You can now look down on me as you speak down to me.”
Aina proudly ran a finger through her hair, clearly glad at the compliment, backhanded though it was. “Leave the witticisms to me, peasant, humor does not suit one with the societal position as you-” Her face suddenly paled as her green eyes widened, and she immediately kneeled down beside him, not bothering with how it could dirty her dress. She had seen the blood, which had begun to trickle again onto the grass. “Cal! What is- are you alright? What happened?”
Cal grinned half-heartedly, a little light-headed. “I tripped and fell, dear monarch, as you conjectured.”
“Don’t smile at a time like this fool, not when you are so self-serious at all other moments.” Aina’s hands, in a way more practiced than Cal would’ve imagined, ran over his cheek and the place where his dark hair was sticky from the congealed blood. “It must have been quite a dramatic fall. You’ve hit your head against something hard and blunt, Cal. Do you remember how it happened? Never mind that now, actually. You likely have some concussed aftereffects. The flesh is damaged but not sliced. And you!-”
The princess whirled on Ram, who was still dressed in her Shining Hope Guardian outfit and standing awkwardly aside. “You led me to believe this was a minor issue. If there is a serious problem, forget your timid nature and speak up!”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize!”
“...Sorry.”
Grunting, Aina turned her attention back to Cal, turning his head ever so slightly between her hands as if to test for broken bones in the neck. “Goodness, you’re lucky that Bridget is currently out shopping for new knitting yarn, otherwise she would be pale-faced and demanding a million questions from you. I have been on the other end of that concern myself, it’s quite exhausting.”
Cal watched Aina’s focused, attractive green eyes as she examined his wound again. “I can’t imagine her like that.”
“Her nature is more girlish than you seem to appreciate,” remarked the princess, “now hold still for a moment.”
Aina’s hands glowed with a faint blue light. As her fingers pressed against the wounded side of his head, Cal felt a strange feeling of levity. The pain resided, the wound stitched up, the blood vanished into the grass.
Cal felt that his dark eyes were very wide at this moment as he said softly: “Is this magic?”
A nearly imperceptible smile crossed over Aina’s face. “Of course, peasant. I am a powerful and beautiful princess from a world beyond your own. An ability like this is only natural for me to possess.”
“Your hands feel good.” He grinned. “You’re really nice when you’re not yelling at me.”
“Honestly, Cal.” said Aina, in a voice gentler than he was used to hearing from her. “What am I to think of you? I assume that is the concussion speaking.”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Later, Cal leaned against a thick computer wire, his nose upturned against the smell of sweat and burnt dust that filled Ram’s room. The curtains were drawn despite it being night outside. The whole room was illuminated by the screens of the computers: blue, green, white — all blinking irregularly.
There was an awkward silence.
“I-I’m amazed you pulled off dinner tonight, despite everything that happened,” said Ram. She was sitting on her bed, knees tucked against her large chest.
Cal readjusted his position slightly. “Bridget did most of it, to be honest. Aina’s magic worked like a charm, you could say, but I was still a little woozy and out of it. Internalizing, I suppose.”
Ram didn’t say anything. She patted down her large blond hair, as if trying to diminish its immense volume.
Cal bit his lip and sighed. “I know you texted me to come here because you probably wanted to explain one or two things, but I mean what I said earlier. And that day we talked at the university. You don’t need to explain anything, if you don’t want to.”
“How?”
The interjection was sudden and surprising. Cal widened his eyes. “What?”
“How is that possible?” Ram said, talking into her knees. Her face was obscured by both the semi-darkness and the position of her head. “Are you just not curious about me? Do you just not care?”
Cal chewed his lip. “That’s not fair.” He shook his head and started again. “Ram, I think it would be fair to say that we haven’t really… gotten a chance to be close. Since I moved in here. I mean, we text a lot, but you’re distant, right? You skip meals. You skip movie nights. You avoid Ellie as much as you can, it seems. Would that be fair to say? And partially those reasons have to do with what I encountered today?”
Ram nodded silently.
“All I can do is take account of what’s in front of me,” said Cal. “And I know you for what you are: shy, intelligent, and really, really kind. Everything else is confectionary. It’s not that I don’t care. But whether you’re a robot, or a superhero, or both at the same time, you’re still the same to me. Okay?”
Ram nodded again. Her eyes seemed blurry.
Cal rubbed his head against the dark wall, trying to sort out his thoughts. “So, despite what I just said, I do have to make sure of a few things.”
His dark eyes pierced into Ram, and she was forced to meet their stare, blushing intensely. “Are you safe?”
Another nod. “Y-yeah, I think. Mostly. My body is super, super tough. I can’t really be harmed. I’m very fast, too. That’s how I carried you back to the house in just a few minutes.”
“Who was that guy from earlier?”
“Beetle Boss.” Ram bit a nail. “I’m not sure, to be honest, who he is or where precisely he is from. He sort of showed up a few weeks ago, claiming that he was “my ultimate rival” and the “emissary of evil”. But I don’t think he wants to hurt anyone. When he saw that you were injured, he made sure to stop attacking. But even when he “attacks”, he doesn’t really seem all that serious.”
‘Weird,” muttered Cal.”
“Yeah, weird.”
“This hero thing… saving people and the like…” Cal phrased this awkwardly, as he was unsure how to ask the question. “Do you… enjoy it?”
No answer.
“Ram,” Cal’s eyes narrowed like the points of daggers. They were dangerously intense. “You’re not being forced to do this somehow, are you?
“No!” examined Ram, finally. She sat forward on the bed, leaning towards him, her eyes glowing with alighted passion, before she remembered herself. “...No. It’s just a responsibility I have. That I was given. I’m…”
She blushed redder. “I’m really strong. I’m not a strong thing, but I am strong — I can catch flying vehicles and jump very high and not be hurt by fists or bullets. I can help people, is what I mean. So I should, even if it makes me scared. That’s all there is to it.”
The bed creaked. Ram looked up, surprised. Cal had sat down on the edge of the mattress. She suddenly felt vulnerable. The boy’s proximity and gaze stirred within her chest feelings of pure embarrassment. She always felt embarrassed when she was near Cal, but it wasn’t until this very moment that she found the words to express the reason to herself.
He sort of reminds me of father, she thought, patting her red cheeks. Really smart and calm and nice… but sometimes, there’s this look in his eyes that unsettles me.
Meanwhile, Cal had listened silently to her exclamation, his head propped thoughtfully against his palm. “Okay.”
Ram breathed slightly, as if afraid to make too much noise. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll take you at your word,” said Cal. He frowned and gently massaged the temple where he had been injured earlier. “Um, if it’s possible, I’d like to start over here. Between us. And I’d like us to be closer and more honest. If you’re having a rough time, or you feel overwhelmed, or you just need someone to talk with… that’s something I can help with. I’m not good for much, but I can listen.”
Ram’s wide eyes seemed to glow in the pale chromatic light cast from the computer screens. Then she smiled slightly and outstretched a hand. “Deal. But only if you let me listen to your problems, too… I told you. I’m not as weak as I seem.”
Cal looked surprised for a moment and then shook her soft hand. “I’m beginning to believe that more and more. It's a deal. Nice to meet you, as we are.” Then he coughed and self-consciously rubbed his eyebrow. “I’m Pascal Clermont. I came to this city from a place much smaller and darker. You can call me Cal.”
Ram’s smile broke out into a wide, toothy grin, her brown eyes shining within the surreal light. “I’m DIGITAL RAMIFICATION.ver242.007.” She clasped both her hands over Cal’s palm and shook it up and down enthusiastically. “I’m an autonomous machine built by my father, the genius Dr. Nendi. You can call me Ram.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She giggled and then hid her face in her hands — as if the appearance of her joy was something to be ashamed of. “Oh, likewise!”
Her heart was pounding, but somehow, it felt so much lighter than it had in months.