《Fish Out of Water: The Catgirl Fishing Isekai》


 Prologue

    Fish Out Of Water: The Catgirl Fishing Isekai


    Prologue


    Ashliel, Junior Archangel in service to the court of the Goddess of Reap and Sow, and Senior Soul Analyst for the Department of Reformation and Reallocation, hummed a little tune to herself as she floated through the verdant halls of her Goddess¡¯ domain.


    She had a load of scrolls tucked up under one arm, and a steaming mug of ambrosia in her other hand, which she took careful sips from as she made her way towards her station.


    As she went, she passed by rows and rows of alcoves, little miniature domains consisting of three marble walls stacked together forming a U-shape, and a horizontal slab, above which hovered a multifaceted crystal and a thin slate covered in divine glyphs. Inside the alcoves, seated upon high-backed wooden chairs cushioned with solidified clouds, her fellow angels toiled away, attending to their individual duties of keeping their Goddess¡¯ domain ¡ª that being all things to do with the cycle of life, death, and growth in the mortal realm ¡ª in order. Their fingers tapped away at the glyphs on the slate, which in turn controlled what the crystal displayed, with the combined array commonly referred to as a ¡°consoul¡±. As incredible as it may seem, all the consouls were connected to one another, and to the greater network of divine knowledge, allowing one access to instant communication across the vast and multitudinous realms of the heavens, and a direct link to all information that had ever been collected and archived therein.


    Marking her passage, one of the angels she peered in on tapped at her slate, and the square of light projected from her consoul shifted from the moving image of a fuzzy, four-legged mortal creature stumbling along as it chased a ball of woven yarn, to an array of little white boxes in neat rows, which she resumed filling in with another series of glyphstrokes.


    But, seeing that Ashliel was only an Archangel, she just as quickly went back to looking up images of mortal creatures being adorable. Ashliel just smiled to herself and continued on her way. She had her own workstation to return to, after all.


    In times of war, it was the duty of the Angels and the Archangels to guard the humans and nations under their patron¡¯s influence from demonic attack and influence, respectively. Archangels also used to serve as messengers, delivering decrees to the mortals and ferrying messages between their respective deities. But there hadn¡¯t been a celestial war since long before Ashliel¡¯s time, and the Gods had taken to communicating less and less with their followers as they grew more able to take care of problems in the mortal realm themselves. Finally, with the invention of the ethereal network, or ¡°ethernet¡±, which anyone who was anyone was on these days, the talents of the Angels and Archangels had been repurposed.


    Ashliel entered her alcove to find a package waiting for her on her desk. It was a box, a beautiful box to be sure, made of pearlescent white wood and trimmed in platinum gold, a simple latch holding the lid closed. Plastered on the top, front, and sides of the box were various strips of parchment which read ¡°Fragile!¡±, ¡°Handle with care!¡±, and ¡°Do not separate!¡±


    Setting her scrolls aside, Ashliel dropped into her chair and scooted over to open the box and examine its contents. Inside the box, nestled in four cushioned, velveted grooves like an oyster with four pearls, were four glass orbs the size of a baseball (not that Ashliel would know what a baseball was). Each one swirled and pulsed, illuminated from within by an ethereal light and tinted in a different color. From left to right, a vibrant orange that reminded one of a setting sun, a greenish-blue that evoked the tumultuous sea, a bright red that would shame even the most vivid rose, and a fourth that fluctuated between a deep rich violet to a vibrant magenta, never staying the same shade for long.


    ¡°Oh, just some souls,¡± Ashliel said to herself, taking another sip from her mug. The presentation box and the warnings had led her to believe there would be something slightly more impressive inside.


    Now, the process of collecting the souls of the departed from the mortal world below and shepherding them to their respective afterlife had been fairly automated for a while. Used to be, all souls went straight to the God or Goddess of their primary religion for a direct meeting, and they alone would decide their fate. Then, when that grew too irritating for the Deities, they created departments to deal with them instead. Souls from beings that had been born within the realm were sorted, analyzed, judged, and shipped off to the appropriate afterlife.


    But sometimes, exceptional souls presented themselves; great heroes and leaders, skilled warriors and craftspeople, brilliant scholars and inventors. Those souls were in turn reintroduced to the world as spirits tied to the tools of their craft, so that their wisdom and skills might continue to influence the mortals that lived there.


    And that was where Ashliel¡¯s department came in. Given their packaging, Ashliel could only assume these souls were of the highest import.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got to work with,¡± Ashliel said, setting aside her mug and scooping up one of the orbs, touching it to the crystal surface of her consoul. Instantly, the screen was filled with all the information she could ever want to know about the soul contained within, and Ashliel realized why these souls had been left on her desk.


    The information on the screen was littered with names, places, terms, and concepts that Ashliel had never seen before and could not even begin to comprehend, rendering most of it useless, and identifying these souls as Outsiders.


    ¡°Uuuuuugh,¡± Ashliel groaned as the realization set in.


    No one knew for sure where they came from, though the rumors said they were sent to the Gods and Goddesses from ¡°somewhere else¡±, by powers even greater than their own, intended for them to handle personally. And, like most of their other tasks, they¡¯d found a way to shove them off onto someone else the moment they could.


    Unlike regular souls, Outsiders couldn¡¯t be broken up into their essence and returned to the world¡¯s mana supply, and they couldn¡¯t have their memories wiped and be reincarnated as normal mortal beings that caused only the usual amount of trouble in their lifetimes. They couldn¡¯t even be safely shoved into a corner and forgotten about, because the containers that kept their souls contained would eventually degrade and allow them to escape, and then you¡¯d have a bunch of mortals known for being confused, angry, and irrational running around the heavens causing problems. The only way to get rid of them was to drop them into the mortal realm wholesale.


    And yet, while the true essence of Outsider souls remained completely immutable, the one thing about them that could be changed was the body, and easily in fact. It had since become common practice to attempt to gift, or perhaps bribe, the souls with a new body that fit their personality even better than their previous one, and would help them better blend in with the regular denizens of the world. Then you just had to cross your fingers and hope they solved more problems than they caused.


    And someone had left four of them on her desk, an hour before her lunch break.


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Ashliel sighed, scooting her chair closer to her desk.


    As irritating as these souls could be, they were still mortals, and Ashliel had a bit of a reputation for having a soft spot for mortals. An embarrassing rumor, but nonetheless true, and she knew if she tried to pass them off onto someone else, as had likely been done to her, it was almost guaranteed that whoever decided their new forms would do a piss poor job of it.


    So, determined to see that these Outsiders ended up with the best possible chance of leading better, happier, longer lives in their new world, she placed her hands in front of her consoul and got to work.


    ¡ö


    ¡°Aaaaaaaash,¡± a familiar voice wafted into her cubicle like a particularly lazy cloud a little less than an hour later, followed by its owner, Lesrith, Archangel of The Court of the Moons, and Ashliel¡¯s friend and coworker.


    ¡°I know, I know, I¡¯ll be right there,¡± Ashliel replied without turning around. She was so close to being finished with these troublesome souls, if only this last soul would¡­


    Brrt


    The screen of her consoul flashed red and let out an angry buzz, signaling that, once again, the orange soul had failed to accept the new form she¡¯d chosen for it.


    With a frustrated groan, Ashliel¡¯s head hit the marble surface of her desk.


    Sensing an opportunity to help, or maybe just to bother, her fellow angel, Lesrith floated into the cubicle, pushing one of her friends¡¯ wings out of the way to get a look at the screen.


    ¡°Mmm, Outsiders, huh?¡± Lesrith asked, draping herself over Ashliel¡¯s shoulders.


    ¡°Mmhm,¡± came Ashliel¡¯s muffled response, not yet ready to rise out of her sulk.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°But you¡¯re usually so good with these,¡± Lesrith said, which finally caused Ashliel to lift her head out of her arms.


    ¡°I know! But this dumb orange ball doesn¡¯t know what it wants! It hasn¡¯t liked any of the forms I¡¯ve suggested, see?¡± Ashliel explained in a huff, pointing at a separate window where she¡¯d started keeping track of the mortal races she¡¯d already tried. She¡¯d tried human first, just in case, but that was always a coin flip. Outsiders, she¡¯d learned, were almost exclusively humans in their first lives, and while nearly half of them would gladly keep the form they¡¯d been born in, more often than not they¡¯d rather be anything but. Then, she¡¯d tried elf ¡ª that was also a popular choice ¡ª but no luck. Dwarf was similarly rejected, as well as orc and goblin.


    The other three souls had rejected all of those as well, but they were just the most common races, and it never hurt to check, just in case one of them took and you managed to save yourself a ton of time. She¡¯d eventually found what she thought were the perfect forms for all three of the other souls, but the orange orb was proving to be uncharacteristically recalcitrant. She¡¯d worked her way through two dozen more races by the time Lesrith had arrived, crossing off slime, troll, skeleton, mimic, chicken, giant, vending machine, sword, various bug monsters including a hive queen and a giant spider, and even a blasted dragon, but nothing worked!


    ¡°Fiiiiiiiine, I¡¯ll help you out, but you owe me,¡± Lesrith said, reaching over Ashliel¡¯s shoulders and poking at the screen, starting to browse the soul¡¯s information. ¡°You¡¯re probably trying to pick a form based on how it lived before it died, but maybe something about its death changed the way it feels. How¡¯d it die?¡±


    ¡°It fell out of a boat and drowned, same as the other three,¡± Ashliel said, resting her chin in her hands and letting her coworker poke and swipe her way through the various windows.


    ¡°Mmmh, can we see if it had any particularly strong thoughts just before that, then?¡± Lesrith asked.


    ¡°We can,¡± Ashliel said, shaking her head. ¡°But these are mortals, and Outsiders at that. Their thoughts are always so¡­ incomprehensible.¡±


    ¡°Come on, it can¡¯t hurt, can it?¡± Lesrith insisted, lightly tapping her fingers against the top of Ashliel¡¯s head.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Ashliel sighed, reaching for her glyphboard again.


    It took some searching, but they were eventually able to find the most powerful, resonant thought the soul had had moments before its untimely demise. Holding her breath, Ashliel pressed the button to play the thought aloud.


    ¡°I would rather die than wear this fucking hat for another minute.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s¡­ something,¡± Lesrith said.


    ¡°It¡¯s a clue!¡± Ashliel said enthusiastically, and perhaps a bit optimistically. All she had to do was access the data for what the soul was wearing in the moments before its death, specifically this reviled headwear, and display it on screen. With a triumphant grin plastered across her cherubic face, she jabbed the button to open the window.


    As the souls last thought had implied, it was a hat. A simple cap, red and white, with a wide bill and stuck out in the front, intended to shield the wearer¡¯s eyes from the glare of the sun. Printed on the front of the hat, above the brim, were two things; An image of a creature that Ashliel hadn¡¯t seen before, but of a type she recognized as a fish, and a block of text which bore a singularly perplexing message.


    WOMEN WANT ME


    FISH FEAR ME


    Ashliel and Lesrith stared at the image of the hat in silence for several seconds.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Lesrith said, letting her chin rest on the top of Ashliel¡¯s head. ¡°Yeeeeeeeeah, I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°Just go on without me,¡± Ashliel sighed, dropping her head into her hands and letting out another muffled groan of frustration.


    ¡°Everything alright in here?¡± A new voice purred from the entrance of the cubicle. It was another of Ashliel and Lesrith¡¯s coworkers, Neshteth, presumably coming to check if either of them were coming to lunch. And as luck, or perhaps fate, would have it, Neshteth was the best possible person who could have chosen to visit at that very moment, for their friend Neshteth was a sphinx, and very very clever.


    ¡°Hey Neth,¡± Lesrith called, waving to Neshteth as she padded into the cubicle. ¡°I¡¯m helping Ash deal with a bratty Outsider. We think this weird hat it was wearing before it died might be a clue, but we can¡¯t figure out what it¡¯s supposed to mean.¡±


    Curious, Neshteth took one look at the screen, and broke out into a wide, fang toothed grin.


    ¡°Well, then you¡¯ve come to the right sphinx,¡± she said, sitting on her haunches and adopting a tone that Ashliel and Lesreth recognized as her ¡°lecturing voice.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s obviously a riddle,¡± Neshteth explained.


    ¡°A riddle?¡± Ashliel asked, a hint of hope in her voice.


    ¡°You think?¡± Lesrith asked, laying her head sideways on top of Ashliel¡¯s head, already starting to doze off. Not that she didn¡¯t find her friend¡¯s lectures fascinating, she was just always tired during the day. Why an angel of the Moon goddesses decided to get a day job, none of them would ever know.


    ¡°Clearly,¡± Neshteth said with certainty, closing her eyes and nodding her head. Cracking one eye open and giving her friends a sly look, she asked. ¡°Can either of you think of something that a mortal woman would want, but a fish would be afraid of?¡±


    The two thought for several seconds before tossing out their answers.


    ¡°Dry land?¡± Ashliel guessed.


    ¡°An even bigger fish,¡± Lesrith said.


    ¡°Good guesses, but no,¡± Nesrith said good naturedly, raising one of her paws towards Ashliel¡¯s consoul. ¡°May I?¡±


    Eager to end this farce, Ashliel scooted her chair out of the way, and Neshteth batted at her glyphboard a few times, and when she was done she¡¯d pulled up a race that made both archangels¡¯ eyebrows raise.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Ashliel asked.


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s only one way to find out,¡± Neshteth said, and Ashliel once again pressed the button to apply the form. All three of the cubicle¡¯s occupants held their breath now, watching the little gray circle that slowly rotated in the middle of the screen, indicating the soul was processing the change.


    Then, finally, the screen flashed green, and let out a little chime.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it,¡± Ashliel gasped.


    ¡°Woo! Nice one, Neth,¡± Lesrith said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster while hanging off Ashliel¡¯s back like a cape. Which is to say, she sounded like an anemic librarian.


    ¡°Naturally,¡± Neshteth said, placing a paw to her chest and preening. ¡°You can thank me by buying me lunch.¡±


    Ashliel cleared the windows from her consoul¡¯s screen and dropped the orange soul back into its alcove in the white box, closing and latching it up. Lastly, she tapped the command into her glyphboard to signal that she had souls that were ready to be deposited into the mortal realm.


    A glowing portal opened in the center of her desk, and after turning it sideways so it would fit, the box was sucked through, disappearing with a faint pop. The trio began to file out of Ashliel¡¯s cubicle, but she paused at the threshold, looking back at her consoul.


    Was there any possible chance there was something she could have forgotten to check while processing that last soul?


    Of course not, she concluded, and either way it had accepted the change. If the soul had any complaints about its new form, it would have only itself to blame.


    And with that, Ashliel turned on her heels and hurried to catch up with her colleagues, leaving her cubicle, and her role in this story, behind her.


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    ¡°Cor, look at that,¡± Nils Dahlgren said, his voice full of wonder and his eyes turned towards the heavens.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± The older man sitting next to Nils, known to friends and locals only as Bart, looked up from the well-worn rubber grip of the fishing pole he held in front of him.


    Nils was leaning back in his seat on the deck of Bart¡¯s boat, his head tilted back, free hand pointing to the sky. Bart followed the path of his finger and found himself looking at a section of the night¡¯s sky a bit to the northwest, across which four lights were streaking, each one flying just a short distance from the next.


    ¡°Four shootin¡¯ stars,¡± Nils breathed, his breath misting into the chilly night air. ¡°Tha¡¯s go¡¯a be a good omen, aye?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re a dwarf, maybe,¡± Bart replied, letting his eyes trace the paths of the four bright shining points of light. Each one was faintly tinged with a different color; one orange, one green, one red, and one a deep violet that almost disappeared against the sky behind it.


    ¡°Ha ha!¡± Nils loosed a good-natured laugh in two quick barks, for he was, indeed, a dwarf, and a casual adherent to the dwarven people¡¯s foremost religion, which held a heavy focus on even-numbered pairs and numerical symmetry, with the number four especially being considered ¡°quite lucky.¡±


    The two men watched the celestial anomalies as they slowly crossed the sky, heading towards the horizon.


    Unlike Nils, Bart was not a dwarf, but he saw no harm in offering up a silent prayer at the stars¡¯ passing.


    If you¡¯re still listenin¡¯ up there, you could send me a good catch. Hell, make it the greatest catch I ever seen, if ya don¡¯t mind!


    As Bart watched, the orange star winked out, leaving the other three to continue on their journey without it.


    Chuckling privately to himself, Bart dropped his eyes from the stars back to the sea, where the twinkling blanket overhead was mirrored perfectly upon the calm waters. His bobber continued to bob, un-disturbed, no legendarily rare sea creature miraculously finding its way onto his hook.


    Ah well, thanks anyway.


    Then, a body fell from the sky, hitting the surface of the water a few feet away and crashing through, shattering the visage of the reflected sky and sending the water rippling in all directions.


    Bart and Nils were on their feet in moments, their rods forgotten.


    ¡°There!¡± Nils called, pointing to a spot just off the stern, and Bart could just make out a patch of ocean where large bubbles were continuously breaking the surface. That meant that whoever had fallen in was still alive, or so Bart prayed, as he planted his foot on the gunnel and launched himself overboard.


    Thankful that the pink summer moon of Dala was out in all her glory, her light piercing through the water¡¯s surface, Bart propelled himself downward with a series of powerful strokes, intent on catching up with the unknown figure and stopping their descent towards the seafloor.


    It was a person, of that much Bart was certain. Their skin was pale, and almost seemed to glow under the summer moon¡¯s light, helping keep Bart on target. The closer he got, the more details he could make out. They were a scrawny creature, whoever they were, with a head full of orange hair that wafted above their head like strands of fiery seaweed, and they appeared to be without a single scrap of clothing.


    There¡¯d be time for worrying about modesty when both of them were back above the surface and breathing air. Hooking one arm around the figure and clutching them to his body, Bart reoriented himself and shot upwards, his chest only just starting to ache from the effort of holding his breath.


    Breaking the surface and stopping only long enough to fill his lungs with air, Bart grabbed ahold of the wooden rungs of the rope ladder Nils had had the forethought to toss out for him while he¡¯d been under. Hauling himself and the unresponsive figure back onto the deck of the moderately sized fishing trawler, Bart laid them out on their back and ¡ª oop, became quite certain they were a she, a young woman by the look of things.


    Sorry, lass.


    Bart knelt and cupped one hand over the other, pressing his palm to the unconscious girl¡¯s sternum and, mindful of how small and frail she looked, began to rhythmically shove against her chest.


    It took three solid pumps before the girl¡¯s body lurched and Bart tipped her head to the side, helping her expel the lungfuls of water. She was coughing next, which was a good sign.


    ¡°By the tides, Bart, I think she¡¯s a¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nils,¡± Bart spoke, cutting his friend off and snapping him out of the shocked stupor that seeing him pull a naked, drowning woman out of the ocean had put him under. ¡°Set up one of the cots.¡±


    ¡°Ah, right, good thinkin,¡± Nils concluded, stomping away to head below deck and pull one of the two compact cots out of the wall and, Bart hoped, pile it up with every blanket they had on board.


    Bart had rolled the girl onto her side, where she continued to cough and retch up seawater for several more seconds before finally coming to a rest, curling in on herself like a dying spider.


    ¡°That¡¯s it, easy does it,¡± Bart soothed, unsure of how much help it would be to the girl, but figuring it couldn¡¯t hurt either. Finally, Nils returned, a thick red woolen blanket in his arms, which he passed off to Bart.


    ¡°Help me with her,¡± Bart said, and together he and Nils enclosed the girl¡¯s shivering frame in the blanket. It might have been the middle of summer, but the night air on the ocean was crisp, and could kill as easily as drowning if one went around sopping wet with no clothes on.


    As expected, the cot had had a nest of blankets arranged on it, and Bart did his best to gently tuck the girl in, mindful of her tail and the large ears on the sides of her head, before straightening his back and lumbering towards the trawler¡¯s modest pantry to fix himself a sandwich and a drink, and wonder what the hell he was going to tell Felda.

 Making A Splash - Chapter 1.1

    Part 1


    Making A Splash


    Chapter 1


    ????????


    ????-????


    Uuuuugh¡­


    I was floating, half in and half out of sleep, my consciousness tentatively rising towards awareness, finding only pain waiting for me there.


    Nnnnnh¡­ not yet. Five more minutes¡­


    I tried to urge my mind to sink again, to drop back into that blissful abyss, and leave my aching body behind. But, try as I might to coax it back, oblivion refused to claim me again, and I was borne upwards like a bubble of air from under the water, until my head broke the surface and I forced myself to try and move.


    Ooough¡­ okay, that''s enough of that.


    The moment I tried, the throbbing in my skull cranked up several notches. Settling back down, I felt the room spinning around me. That, combined with how empty my stomach felt and how sore my throat was, led me to believe I''d definitely thrown up recently.


    Great, this was just great. I must have gotten drunk at the stupid boat party, despite telling myself I wouldn''t, and now I had the mother of all hangovers.


    I wondered if I''d even managed to make it home, and if not, whose house I was currently convalescing in. Best-case scenario, I''d been able to beg Morgan to let me crash at her place. Worst-case scenario, I was in Mandy¡¯s parents¡¯ lakehouse with the other drunken idiots from the night before, which was not a place I¡¯d want to be even if I wasn¡¯t hungover.


    At the very least, I¡¯d found a comfortable place to pass out. It felt like I was lying on an actual bed instead of curled up in a bathtub with a couple of pillows, and someone had draped a soft, if slightly smelly, blanket over me. As I lay there, counting my vanishingly small number of blessings, I became aware of a pair of voices, speaking in hushed tones somewhere nearby.


    ¡°¡ªfine the last time I checked on her, but she¡¯s still pretty out of it.¡±


    The first voice was deep and rich and rough, a voice that had been dropped on the ground and kicked around for a few years, with an odd accent I couldn¡¯t quite place.


    ¡°Poor thing. I¡¯m surprised she even managed to survive at all.¡±


    The second voice was similar to the first, but a little less deep and far less craggly, with a more melodic tone to it, a voice I would call ¡°husky¡± if it belonged to a woman. I wondered who they were talking about. Someone who¡¯d gotten hurt last night? Wouldn¡¯t surprise me, with how rowdy a boat full of drunk young adults could get even without leaving the pier.


    ¡°As am I. Shook Nils up pretty bad,¡± Craggly spoke again, and I heard a scraping, rasping noise that I identified as fingers being brushed across a stubbly cheek. ¡°I¡¯m sure whoever pushed her counted on her not surviving it.¡±


    ¡°So you do think she was pushed?¡±


    Oh, woah, slow down. I knew things had been getting wild, but did someone really get so wasted they pushed some girl overboard and she got seriously hurt? Was I listening in on two cops or something?


    ¡°Felda, she fell outa the sky in the middle of the night. Tweren''t no island¡¯s passin¡¯ overhead last night, and even if there were, she woulda died for certain fallin¡¯ from that high. No, had to be some high society kid, cruisin¡¯ by in his lord father¡¯s cloud skiff.¡±


    ¡°But why? Who¡¯d want to hurt a harmless little thing like her?¡±


    ¡°Why do the uppercrusters do anything? To screw one another over, or to screw us down here. My guess is, either she was a toy that someone¡¯s kid got sick of, or she saw somethin¡¯ she ought not have.¡±


    Uuhhh¡­ what? What on earth was all that? Had someone left a TV on in the next room over, and I was just so out of it I¡¯d thought they were real people speaking?


    Since returning to sleep had slipped out of my grasp, and I wasn¡¯t doing anything lying there but racking up questions trying to decipher the weirdest sounding television show I¡¯d never heard of before, I figured I should take another swing at getting up and getting my bearings. Steeling my resolve, I took a deep breath and tried to ease myself into a sitting position.


    ¡°Uuuuughhnnn¡­¡± I groaned in a mixture of pain and exertion, but managed to sit up on the bed, whereupon I found I hadn''t just given one blanket, but had been entirely cocooned in them. They were heavy, and felt like old wool, which probably explained why I was feeling so warm.


    ¡°Hear that?¡± Husky voice spoke up again. ¡°Sounds like someone¡¯s awake.¡±


    Hmm. That was either incredibly coincidental timing on the TV¡¯s part, or something¡­ weird was going on. I needed to be able to see, and that meant opening my eyes and wrestling my way out of all those blankets.


    After wriggling my shoulders and loosening the tightly-wrapped wool enough that I could raise my arms, I grabbed the edge of the blanket draped over my head and threw it back, blinking open my eyes to take in my surroundings for the first time.


    I was in a bedroom, that much was certain. The walls, floor, and every bit of furniture I could see were all wood, and there was something about the room that screamed ¡°rustic¡± at me. Maybe it was all the weird old trinkets on the shelves and walls; I counted no less than fifteen different seashells. There was also an old rope net that looked like it belonged in a museum, a fancy looking brass telescope resting on a wooden stand, and¡­ were those harpoons hung up on the wall above the bed?


    This place even smells old, I thought after a quick sniff brought in strong scents of dust and wood polish.


    Speaking of the bed, I was positively swimming in it. It was so wide it could have fit about eight of me in it side-to-side, with room for two or three more at the bottom. Across from the bed was a wooden writing desk, a large book resting open in the center of it. In the corner was a wardrobe so tall it almost touched the ceiling, and next to it was one of the windows that was letting in so much sunlight. I didn¡¯t have the best view through it from my vantage point, but I could definitely make out crashing waves in the distance, which meant I was still up by the lake. But I was also dead certain that no room in any house owned by Mandy¡¯s parents would ever look like this.


    I really hope I didn¡¯t wander down the beach and break into someone¡¯s condo or something.


    The last stop on my visual tour around the bedroom was the door ¡ª wood, of course ¡ª which had been left cracked open about an inch. A few scant seconds after my eyes fell upon it, it was pushed open the rest of the way, and a man walked in.


    As I¡¯d expected, I had never seen this guy before in my life. Whoever he was, he was huge, and old, pushing fifty, by the looks of it. His skin was weather-worn and tanned, and his rough-cut hair was coal-black at the top, fading to gray at the sides. His cheeks and chin were sprinkled with so much stubble that it looked like someone had tossed a fistful of coarse ground pepper in his face. He wore a blue, high-necked woolen sweater and sturdy-looking black pants held up by suspenders, of all things, and just his forearms alone ¡ª exposed by his rolled-up sleeves ¡ª looked powerful enough to rip tree trunks out of the ground. If the strong scent of old fish and seawater coming off him didn''t clue me in that he was the real deal, I would have asked if he was doing Moby Dick cosplay or something. And if he wasn¡¯t probably furious with me for being in his house.


    ¡°Oh, good, you¡¯re up,¡± the man said, in the grumbliest, rumbliest, strangely soothing-est baritone I had ever heard. Like someone was pouring hot chocolate into my ears, damn. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±


    It was also one of the voices I¡¯d heard speaking in the other room.


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± I said, clearing my throat several times, unable to shake the sensation that something felt wrong with it. I took a quick internal inventory and concluded that I was feeling pretty terrible. My mouth was dry, my muscles were sore, my back ached something furious, my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and worst of all, I was starving.


    ¡°Like garbage,¡± I concluded, pulling the blankets back around myself. Yeah, my voice sounded weirdly high, did I damage it while puking or something?


    ¡°Well I ain¡¯t surprised,¡± the old man said, and I rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was this old sea dog lecturing me about drinking too much, I knew I couldn¡¯t hold my drinks. ¡°You hit that water mighty hard. You¡¯re damned lucky Nils an¡¯ I were there, or you¡¯d be feedin¡¯ the fish out in the bay by now.¡±


    Huh?


    ¡°I¡­ I did?¡± I asked, confused. Did one of those jackasses push me out of the boat? It was Chad wasn¡¯t it? I bet it was Chad. It wasn¡¯t even that big of a boat, how could falling that distance leave me hurting this much. And why was I in this dude¡¯s¡­ nautically-themed bed and breakfast and instead of, like, the hospital?


    ¡°Aye, that you did,¡± the man said, nodding solemnly and stepping a little further into the room. I really couldn¡¯t place his weird accent and it was driving me nuts. I realized he had a bundle of folded cloth in his hands, which he set down on the end table beside the bed. ¡°Managed to find some clothes that might fit you, they won¡¯t be what you¡¯re used to, but they¡¯ll keep you from catchin¡¯ a chill.¡±


    ¡°W-wait, what¡¯s wrong with my¡ª¡± I started to ask while parting the blankets to see what could possibly have happened to my clothes, only for several revelations to hit me at once.


    ¡°I¡¯m naked!¡± I cried, pulling the blankets tight again.


    ¡°Y-yes,¡± the man said, putting his hands up and backing away.


    ¡°Why am I naked?!¡± I demanded.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, lass, that¡¯s how we found you!¡± the man shouted back, backing up into the doorway again. I heard a series of rapid thuds and someone else appeared behind him, peering in over his shoulder.


    ¡°Everything alright in here?¡± asked the¡­ woman? She was the husky voice I¡¯d heard earlier, but she was huge, taller than the old man, and when she poked her head in I saw that she had skin that was tinged faintly sea green, and two tusks that jutted out from the bottom corners of her mouth.


    ¡°Nyach!¡± I let out an inarticulate yelp, as I¡¯d been scooting away from the mysterious old man who¡¯d apparently found me naked and brought me home, and I¡¯d finally run out of bed to scoot, thumping onto the hardwood floor and bringing the blankets with me.


    ¡°Guess not.¡± I heard the large woman say as I struggled to my feet. Keeping the blankets wrapped tight around myself, I continued to stumble backwards until my back hit the far wall, rattling some of the trinkets on the shelves behind me.


    ¡°Ah!¡± I yelped again when something moved in my peripheral vision, but it was just a full length mirror, in which I finally got a good look at myself.


    I was shorter than I¡¯d been yesterday, that much was immediately apparent. I¡¯d always been ¡°that tall kid¡±, and If I was being honest, I always kind of hated it, hated sticking out that much. I was less than thrilled to learn I had topped out at six feet, two inches as of my last birthday, but now it looked like I would be lucky if I could even reach five. My hair was also much longer, and an entirely different shade, having gone from a plain brown mop to an outrageously-vibrant orange mane that floofed out in all directions and cascaded down my back. And, as I watched, something moved in the mass of hair. Swallowing hard, I stepped closer to the mirror to get a better look.


    There were large cat ears growing out of the sides of my head where my ears should have been. They were covered in orange¡­ fur, I guessed, that was the same color as my new hair. They twitched as I watched them, and I could clearly feel the motion all throughout the back of my skull as muscles and tendons I didn¡¯t have a day ago moved on their own. Shivering slightly, and acting out of a sense of morbid curiosity, I parted the blankets again, and got a look at the rest of my body.


    And there it was.


    A tail. About two-and-a-half feet long, maybe more, sprouting out of the small of my back, and covered in the same orange fur as my ears. Also like my ears, once I was aware of its presence, it was second nature to raise it up and, lacking anything better to do with it, loop it around my waist like a belt. It went all the way around, and then some.


    So, to recap; I was in an unfamiliar house, with two people I¡¯d never met before in my entire life, one of whom might not even be human, without even so much as some clothes upon my back, and I was now some kind of¡­ half-human, half-cat thing.


    Oh, and I was also a girl now too. That was definitely different, and, on top of everything else, way too much for my aching brain to handle.


    ¡°Ah, Bart, look out, she''s going to¡ª¡±


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    Three stars continued their slow trek across the sky.


    Somewhere else in the world, thousands of miles from the first, in an region of the southern central seas known as the Sea of Blades, hotly-contested waters frequented only by desperate pirates and even more desperate fishermen, another body hit the ocean. This time, there was no one around to see, and no one to jump into the water after them.


    Two stars continued their slow trek across the sky.


    Further across the ocean, in the coastal town of Strom''s Landing, on the western edge of the island of Fulgar, homeland of the Fulminous Empire, a tired shipwright finished a last-minute inspection on the brigantine he and his employees had spent the last season and a half building. In the morning, the Royal Admiral and representatives from the church would arrive to carry out the blessing and dedication, and then this ship would join the rest of the royal fleet in their continuous campaign to establish the Empire¡¯s foothold on the seas. While the man continued to run down his checklist, the ship let out a series of quiet creaks and groans.


    A single star continued its slow trek across the sky.


    Across that very same island, at a farm located in the outskirts of the Royal City of Lichtford, a farmer stirred from a deep slumber. Checking first on his wife and children, he stepped out of his door and made his way towards the modest barn where his livestock could be heard, kicking up a fuss, carrying with him a hastily-lit lantern and a sturdy iron poker from his fireplace. As he walked, he paused to regard the night sky, and the curious purple star he glimpsed for only a moment before it disappeared. Then, something hurdled from the sky as if slung by the moon herself, carving a large chunk out of the barn roof and coming down in the south field, digging out a huge trench in the dirt before finally coming to a stop in a smoking crater.


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    With a jerk, I opened my eyes again.


    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s back,¡± a husky, gentle voice said.


    Looking around tentatively, I found I¡¯d been put back in the bed. The giant woman with greenish skin had pulled out the chair from the writing desk and was seated at the foot of the bed. When my eyes fell on her she gave me a kind, if tusk-filled, smile.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Welcome back, dear,¡± she said. ¡°That was a close one.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± I asked, glancing around the room. ¡°And where¡¯d the old guy go?¡±


    The woman broke into a fit of giggles, bringing a hand up to her mouth, try, and failing, to stifle them. I didn¡¯t think it was that funny.


    ¡°Ah, you fainted for a little bit there,¡± she finally answered after she finished laughing. ¡°And I sent Bart back downstairs. Just us now, I figured that would make you more comfortable.¡±


    ¡°Wh¡­¡± I started to say as I sat up, and my chest¡­ moved in a way it never had before that sent my heartbeat skyrocketing. Clutching the blankets tightly in my fists, I cleared my throat again.


    ¡°R-right¡­ Uh, where am I?¡± I quickly changed the subject, asking perhaps my most pressing question.


    ¡°You¡¯re in the upstairs bedroom of my inn, The Crooked Hook,¡± the large woman explained. Oh, so it wasn¡¯t the old guy¡¯s place. Apparently, something in my expression must have told her I was still confused, because she laughed again.


    ¡°Ah, forgive me, you meant where, in the world, are you, of course. You¡¯re in the village of Rower¡¯s Rest, on the island of Torgard, in the West Seas,¡± she elaborated, motioning at one of the windows, which had been opened and was letting in a gentle, salt-scented breeze.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, as though that explained anything. Well, it did at least explain why everything smelled so strongly of the sea.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s a long way from home for you,¡± the woman said, standing up from the chair, and boy, was she tall. Taller than I was, er, than I was before I¡¯d apparently shrunk by a foot and become a cat¡­ girl¡­ thing.


    ¡°You have no idea¡­¡± I muttered, too quiet for her to hear.


    ¡°But, we can worry about that later, when you¡¯re feeling better. Right now, I imagine you just want to get dressed, and I bet you¡¯re hungry, hmm?¡±


    ¡°Uh, y-yeah,¡± I agreed, clutching my stomach through the blankets. Now that I was wide awake and probably not about to faint again, my body was making all its complaints known to me. The woman nodded, walking around the bed and reaching for the folded pile of clothes the old man (Bart, she¡¯d told me his name hadn¡¯t she) had left on the side table, grabbing the first item on top and holding it up.


    ¡°Come on then,¡± the woman prompted while I just stared at the article of clothing in her hands.


    ¡°It¡¯s a dress,¡± I said.


    It was a dress. Canary-yellow, embellished with white stripes, thin shoulder straps, and a strip of cloth that ran through a set of loops around the waist.


    ¡°Yes, a friend of mine has a daughter who recently moved to the city, she left behind some clothes she¡¯d outgrown, so I was able to borrow this,¡± the green-skinned woman explained, again missing the point of my hesitation.


    ¡°Could I just get¡­ some pants? And a shirt?¡± I asked. It seemed ridiculous to care that much about the clothes I¡¯d be wearing with so much else going on, but I was still coming to terms with my new body, and I didn¡¯t think I was ready for something like that dress.


    The large woman, for her part, seemed taken aback by my request for a moment.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± she asked, and I nodded my head. Lowering the dress and folding it over her arm, she brought one of her hands up to rub at her chin, looking me over. ¡°Hmm¡­ I think the baker¡¯s boy is about your size. I can run and see if he¡¯s willing to part with a pair, if you¡¯re okay waiting for a while longer?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± I said, emphatically. Smiling again, she folded the dress back up and set it back down on the table.


    ¡°Alright then, I¡¯ll be right back. I¡¯ll tell Bart not to bother you, and you stay put up here, okay?¡± She paused at the door, waiting for my response.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I agreed. She nodded and opened the door, stepping out into the little hall area I could see beyond and pulling it shut behind her.


    Finally alone in the room again, I slid out of the bed, taking the blankets with me, and started pacing around the room. Question after question rebounded inside my head. What on earth was going on here? How had I gone from a boat party on a lake to the ocean off the coast of some island? Why was that woman so huge and green? Why was I a cat?


    Making sure the blankets were tightly closed, I stepped up to the open window and poked my head out to try and get a better look at where I was.


    ¡°Woah¡­¡±


    The view out the window was breathtaking. I was on the second floor of a building that was a part of a row that sat opposite a row of docks, a stone''s throw away from the ocean. We were on one edge of the coastline, which continued for miles into the distance, the docks giving way to a stretch of beach that wrapped around the far edge and continued unseen past an outcropping of cliffs. There were dozens upon dozens of boats of all makes and models tied up at the docks, and even more visible out on the bay.


    Turning my head to the left, I could see the rest of the village as it sprawled out from the coast, a series of roads that ranged from wide enough for two carts ¡ª whoa, actual horse-drawn carts? ¡ª on either side, with room to spare for people to walk, down to narrower streets that could only be traversed on foot. Following the largest road that ran through the rough middle of the village, I found it continued to the direction I was thinking of as north before hooking to the left and vanishing into some grassy plains. Even further beyond that, I could make out a forest, and some large swaths of cleared land that I guessed were farms. The forest continued for miles before the land began to slope upward, gently at first, then more harshly, before finally terminating in a range of towering mountains that cut off my view of the horizon.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I breathed. It was beautiful, the kind of place you¡¯d put on a postcard, the kind of place you¡¯d see an advertisement for on some vacation site, and comfort yourself with the fact that there¡¯s no way a place that looks that nice could still actually exist. And yet, here it was.


    Still partially leaning out the window, I took a deep breath in through my nose, eager to find out if the air was as fresh as it looked, and I reeled. From the moment I began to inhale, a tsunami of smells entered my perception and overwhelmed my aching brain.


    I could smell the salt of the sea, of course, but that was just the opening act. I could smell multiple fires burning, probably what was producing those pillars of smoke dotting the rooftops. I could smell the tang of sweat, coming off the crowds of sailors and fishermen, which was thankfully quickly drowned out by the sweet scent of fruit, the heady smell of fresh vegetables, rich earthy tones like well-fertilized dirt, and meats. I could smell someone cooking meat, somewhere in the distance as though I was standing right next to the grill. But most of all, I could smell something heavenly that made my mouth water and my empty stomach clench, it was something indescribable, something¡­


    Someone was knocking on the door.


    ¡°Are you okay in there, dear?¡±


    It was the large woman. She was back. How long had I been standing there at the window just smelling things?


    Shaking my head, I hustled over to the door and called out.


    ¡°Y-yeah!¡±


    The door opened, slowly, and the woman poked her head in. She saw me waiting a step in front of the door and jumped slightly, but covered it with a smile.


    ¡°There you are,¡± she said, holding up a new bundle of folded cloth.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, reaching one arm out of my blanket cocoon to take the clothes. For some reason, the woman hesitated.


    ¡°Are you sure you can manage on your own?¡± she asked, and I furrowed my brow.


    ¡°Of course!¡± I snapped, a little put out, and she nodded and passed me the bundle, stepping backwards into the hall.


    ¡°Alright then, I¡¯ll just be out here if you need a hand,¡± she said, and closed the door once more.


    That was¡­ weird, right?


    I couldn¡¯t tell if she thought I needed her help getting dressed because I was injured, or if she was just treating it as a matter of fact. Well, at least she didn¡¯t push the issue.


    Stepping well away from the windows, I let the blankets drop. Repeating a mantra of ¡°Don¡¯t look down, don¡¯t look down, don¡¯t look down,¡± I pulled the off-white cottony shirt out of the bundle and tugged it on over my head. After a brief struggle to fit my head through the neck hole with my new ears, I let the shirt drop. It fit, if loosely, and the sleeves were just a bit longer than they needed to be, so I had to roll them up to be able to use my hands. I picked up the pants next, but then thought better of it and searched through the pile until I found¡­


    What are these called again? Breeches? Bloomers?


    Whatever they were, they were a pair of small white shorts with a loose set of strings at the front to tie them up. If I thought of them as just very loose boxer shorts, they weren¡¯t so bad. Finally, I grabbed the dark-colored pants and tugged them up my legs, again finding them a bit too baggy. After tightening the leather-laced front, I stood up, took a step, and they immediately fell down my legs.


    ¡°What the¡­¡± I started to say, before realizing what the problem was. The awkward position of my tail (and how quickly I was starting to think of it as my tail), sprouting just above my backside, prevented me from getting the pants fully up around my waist and hips unless I tucked it fully inside. Trying that, and finding it incredibly uncomfortable after only a few seconds, I found myself at a loss.


    ¡°How¡¯s it going in there?¡± the husky voice came through the door again.


    ¡°Fine!¡± I shouted, as though I were just trying on clothes at a department store and she was just a pushy attendant. But things weren¡¯t fine, and I didn¡¯t know what to do. And for some reason the frustration of that realization was making my eyes sting.


    ¡°Actually¡­¡± I called out a second later. I didn¡¯t like asking for help, especially after I was so insistent earlier, but I figured these were special circumstances. ¡°Do you have some scissors? Or a knife?¡±


    ¡°A knife? What for?¡± she asked, concern in her voice.


    ¡°I, uh¡­ I can¡¯t¡­ it¡¯s¡­ my tail,¡± I explained in fits and starts, and I heard her move outside the door, followed by a soft smacking sound.


    ¡°Oh, of course, how could I forget! In my desk, right side, top drawer,¡± she instructed, and I hurried over to the desk as carefully as I could while holding the oversized pants up with both hands. Pulling out the indicated drawer, I found several little black sticks, a few jars of black liquid, a folded stack of papers, and the promised scissors.


    ¡°Do you want some help?¡± the woman asked again as I held up the scissors to examine them.


    ¡°No!¡± I shouted, automatically, but again, thought better of it. I was pretty sure I could handle something as simple as cutting a small hole in some pants, but what if I screwed it up? How many more pants could I ask this lady I¡¯d just met to borrow from her friends and neighbors if I made a mistake? If the past was any indication, that was highly likely¡­


    So, swallowing my pride, I shuffled over to the door and eased it open a crack. The woman was waiting with her back against the opposite wall, and looked up at my quiet cough.


    ¡°A-actually¡­ I could use a hand,¡± I admitted. Her lips curved upwards, and once again she gave me a smile, strangely soft and somehow so gentle and caring seeming despite being flanked by those tusks.


    Between the two of us working together, the large woman was able to pick out a spot in the seat of the pants that, when given a small hole, would allow me to slip my tail through and rest comfortably against the base. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but my pants weren¡¯t going to keep falling down at least. Rolling the legs up like I had the sleeves of the shirt, I was, finally, some approximation of dressed again.


    ¡°There you go,¡± the woman said, stepping back from inspecting her handiwork. ¡°That should hold for a while until I can sew the edges of the hole up, but try not to move it about too much.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, while she replaced the scissors on her desk. While she''d been working behind me, I couldn''t help but get a few nosefuls of her ¡ª not like I was trying to, or anything, just, it seemed like my nose was working overtime, and had been since I woke up ¡ª and found that in addition to salt and sweat, she also smelled faintly of grease, flour, and for some reason, moss. I also, belatedly, realized that was the same smells I¡¯d been picking up from the blanket earlier. I¡¯d have to remember to apologize later for stealing her bed.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, dear. Now, how about some lunch?¡±


    Lunch? Oh, well, it was probably past breakfast time then. I moved to follow her back to the door, but paused. My eyes wandered to the corner of the room, where the full-length mirror stood in its stand.


    Did I want to know? Did I want to see?


    Clenching my fists, I stalked across the room until I stood before the mirror, and opened my eyes.


    Woah.


    Unlike when I¡¯d looked out the window, I didn¡¯t say it out loud, but I sure felt it. The style of clothes were a bit off, but with how loose and baggy they were, mixed with the serious case of bedhead my hair had going on, I looked¡­ cute. I looked like I should have been taking selfies and posting them online with cheeky little comments.


    Just woke up like this, I thought, turning slightly to the side and putting a hand on my hip.


    Felt cute, might delete later. Again, I turned the other way, unable to stop myself from snickering at the thought.


    I only meant to look for a second, but after dropping the silly pose, I found myself lingering there, in front of the mirror, tracing the edges of my new face with my eyes. From my cheeks to my chin to the shape of my nose, everything had been softened and rounded out. Not like I¡¯d been given an entirely new face, just like the old one had been reshaped, ever so slightly. Just like I¡¯d always felt uncomfortable being the tallest person in a crowd, ever since I started shooting up like a weed in middle school, something about my face had always bothered me. So what did it mean, that I didn¡¯t feel like I was missing that lost foot of height, that this face didn¡¯t seem to bother me at all?


    That I couldn¡¯t stop my lips from curling up into a smile?


    Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement, and remembered where I was and what I was doing. The large woman was waiting by the door, watching me with a bemused expression. I blushed ¡ª I could tell I was, I saw it in the mirror ¡ª and hurried over to join her.


    ¡°S-sorry!¡± I stammered, because I couldn¡¯t think of anything else to say. What had that been? I usually never bothered to look at myself in the mirror for longer than I needed to, and I tried not to need to very often, but twice now I¡¯d gotten caught up staring at myself like some kind of dopey weirdo. I shook my head, and hoped that getting some food in my stomach would make my brain stop aching and let me collect my thoughts.


    Following the large woman down a set of stairs, one thought rose to the surface, and that was that I couldn¡¯t keep thinking of her as just ¡°that large woman.¡±


    ¡°So, uh¡­¡± I began, and she looked over one of her broad shoulders at me. ¡°Who¡­ are you?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± she started. ¡°My apologies, where is my head today? My name is Felda Stoutsinger, but you can just call me Felda.¡±


    ¡°Felda¡­¡± I said, trailing off as I tasted the name. That was¡­ That was a name and a half alright.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Felda said, smiling. She continued to smile at me for what I realized was too many seconds of silence before she tilted her head forward slightly. ¡°And, what can I call you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Sssss¡­¡±


    ¡­sssshit. I hadn¡¯t thought about what usually happens after you ask someone their name. I couldn¡¯t give her that name, it definitely wasn¡¯t a girl¡¯s name. Well, maybe it could be, but it would definitely stick out. I wracked my brain for something better, something that at least still started with the letter S.


    Sarah? No, too bratty little sister. Susan? No, too weird coworker. Sabrina? No, not unless I felt like finding a broom, a giant hat, and a talking cat.


    Wait.


    ¡°Ssssam¡­ anth¡­ a?¡± I tried, then, because I completely mangled the delivery, repeated it. ¡°Samantha.¡±


    ¡°Samantha?¡± Felda asked, like she was asking me to confirm once more before she could believe me. Hearing the name from her made it sound even weirder, but not¡­ bad weird, just weird weird.


    ¡°Or Sam, for short!¡± I hastily added. ¡°Sam works too!¡±


    ¡°Hmm, okay then, Sam,¡± Felda said, and for some reason that felt a bit less weird. ¡°You go take a seat at the counter, and I¡¯ll be right back with something to fill your belly.¡±


    She stepped aside and I finished descending the stairs, finally getting a proper look at the ground floor of the Crooked Hook. It was a restaurant, that much was apparent from the smells alone. The scents of meals long past hung in the air like old ghosts, and the scents of salt and grease clung to every surface. The layout was wide, with a huge open floor space in the center occasionally broken up by support beams, several sturdy, thick topped wooden tables with their chairs currently stacked up on top of them. The two farthest walls were lined with booths that sat beside large windows that were letting in plenty of mid-morning sunlight. Opposite the closed double doors at the front of the building was a wrap-around bar/counter that wouldn¡¯t look at all out of place in any tavern, old or new. The shelves behind the counter were stocked with glass bottles of various shapes containing liquids that ranged from pale gold to black as ink, and there was a rectangular cutout in the wall, through which I could see Felda, moving around what must have been the kitchen.


    And, other than Bart seated at the counter, the place was completely empty.


    ¡°Ah, uh, hey there,¡± I said as I padded across the floor. He looked up from a glass of something. Something I hoped, for his sake at least, wasn¡¯t alcoholic, as early in the day as it was.


    Should I sit right next to him? That seemed a little presumptuous, but it also seemed ruder to specifically sit one chair away, but not as rude as sitting at the opposite end of the bar, which is what I kind of wanted to do. Not just because this guy had apparently seen me naked, but because he kinda unnerved me for some reason I couldn¡¯t really put my finger on. Aside from the old-timey fisherman¡¯s getup, he seemed like just an ordinary older man. Was it the scars and tattoos on his massive forearms? Was it the steely look in his dark eyes?


    Oh, and now he¡¯s staring at me. Why is he¡ª


    ¡°Why are you staring at me?¡± he asked, and I jumped.


    Oh, oops.


    ¡°S-sorry!¡± I blurted out and hurried the rest of the way to the bar. I climbed onto the stool one stool to his left. Bart ¡°hmm¡±ed and faced forward again, lifting his glass.


    Silence hung in the air like a thick fog, broken only by the distant clattering of Felda in the kitchen. Was he going to say something? Should I say something first?


    ¡°Soooooo¡­¡± I opened my mouth, and immediately he was turned and looking at me with that intense stare. ¡°You¡¯re Bart?¡±


    ¡°That I am,¡± he said, nodding.


    ¡°Cool,¡± I said, like an idiot. ¡°I¡¯m, uh, Sam. Short for Samantha.¡±


    I was trying not to look directly at him, since apparently in addition to compulsively smelling people, I¡¯d also picked up the habit of staring at things a lot more since becoming a cat, but I couldn¡¯t miss the way his head tilted and one of his eyebrows lifted.


    ¡°Sam?¡± he asked, sounding¡­ skeptical?


    ¡°Yup,¡± I confirmed with a nod. It was feeling less weird with each use, which I took as a good sign that it was a fitting fake name for the time being. ¡°Is, uh, is Bart short for anything?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Bart said, a little too quickly I felt.


    Silence threatened to rush back in, and ordinarily I¡¯d welcome it, but I was already so far out of my comfort zone it didn¡¯t feel worth it trying to stubbornly start sticking to just one old habit.


    ¡°You said you pulled me out of the water?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Aye, that I did,¡± he said, and I had to resist the urge to start pulling at my hair.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said plainly, unsure of how you¡¯re supposed to sound when you thank someone for saving your life.


    Bart just looked at me for a moment, then nodded and turned away again.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, lass,¡± he said into his drink.


    In the kitchen, something began hissing and crackling. I felt my ears shoot upwards to stand at attention, because that was a familiar sound. The sound of battered food hitting hot oil. Whatever Felda was making in there, it was apparently going to be deep fried. That thought sent my already-empty stomach preemptively churning.


    Without thinking, I took a particularly-deep sniff at the air wafting through the open kitchen window, and again it was like getting hit by a truck. I could smell the dry, yeasty smell of old bread, egg, hot oil, sweet wood smoke, and spices, I could definitely smell those. And I could also smell Bart, and he smelled like salt and dirt and old leather. But just like before, one smell began to overpower the rest, something fresh and pungent, with a hint of brine to it, buttery and so, so savory, utterly unlike anything I¡¯d ever smelled on earth. I didn¡¯t know what it was that Felda was cooking, but I wanted it.


    ¡°You alright there, lass?¡± Bart¡¯s voice cut through my reverie and brought me back down to earth. I opened my eyes, not remembering when I closed them, and turned to look at him.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I asked, and Bart stared for a moment, then raised a hand and tapped at the corner of his mouth a few times.


    ¡°What are you¡ªnyeh!¡± I jumped, and brought one of the loose sleeves of my borrowed shirt up to my lips, wiping them. I had been drooling!


    Okay, I really wasn¡¯t sure what was going on with my nose, but it was probably a good idea to try and avoid taking anymore big whiffs of anything until I figured that out.


    ¡°Thanks¡­¡± I muttered, hunching forward over the bar and covering my nose and cheeks with my sleeves.


    Again, Bart just nodded, and turned back to his drink. I wondered if Felda had ever considered getting stools that swiveled.


    Finally, just when I thought I might not be able to stand waiting any longer, Felda returned from the kitchen. In one hand she carried a miniature woven basket, in which rested four long strips of something that had been battered and fried to steaming perfection, and in the other hand she carried a glass pitcher of something pale yellow and cloudy. She set the basket in front of me, and it took everything I had to wait while she poured some of the pale liquid into a glass for me.


    ¡°Here you are,¡± Felda said, beaming at me.


    ¡°Oh, wow, thanks, it looks amazing,¡± I said, genuinely. The outsides of the fried strips of whatever it was were covered in a perfect golden-brown crust, flecked with seasonings and spices. Tucked into the basket with them were two wedges of some tangy, citrus-scented fruit. Not wanting to seem like I was second-guessing Felda¡¯s recipe or presentation, I took them and squeezed them out generously over the crispy fried strips.


    ¡°Careful, they¡¯re hot,¡± Felda cautioned as I picked one up between two fingers and, heeding her warning, blew on one end to cool it.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. I wasn¡¯t willing to try giving it the sniff test, in case I knocked myself out again or something.


    ¡°Speckled cod,¡± Felda explained, and I paused.


    ¡°Aw, fish?¡± I asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of my tone. I knew better than to say it out loud after Felda had been so generous, but I¡¯d never been the biggest fan of seafood. With a quiet sigh, I braced myself and brought the fried strip up to my mouth, hoping it wouldn¡¯t taste too bad.


    Then, I took a bite.


    Oh my god¡­


    I stared, unseeing and unblinking, at the wall opposite the counter, and felt tears forming unbidden at the corners of my eyes. I realized my mouth was hanging open and I closed it with a snap, chewing the single mouthful I¡¯d taken, uncaring if that was drool, or grease, dribbling down my chin. The crispy batter gave way to tender, flaky flesh the color of fresh fallen snow. It was just as savory as it had smelled, with a mild sweetness that paired perfectly with the crisp, perfectly salty, lightly-peppered batter and hint of tangy lemon. As I chewed, I briefly felt at one with the world, the universe, and everything. I felt my soul leave my body, to hover above me in a plane made of pure pleasure and flavor, until I, finally, swallowed that first divine bite.


    Back inside my body, I blinked my eyes several times to clear them, then stared down at the basket of fried fish. I still didn¡¯t know, basically, anything about where I was, or how I¡¯d gotten there. Hell, I didn¡¯t even know what I was anymore. I didn¡¯t know what I was going to do in this unfamiliar world, how I was going to move forward from where I currently found myself. I didn¡¯t know when¡­ or if, I would ever see my home again.


    The only thing I did know was that I wanted to eat like this again. I wanted to eat like this every day, if I could.


    Turning my head, I found Felda, giving me her biggest smile yet. Even Bart was looking less intense as he watched me.


    ¡°Thank you¡­¡± I whispered.


    And then, I devoured the fish, down to the very last crumb.

 Making A Splash - Chapter 1.2

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 2


    ¡ö


    With a satisfied groan, I let my head hit the counter.


    ¡°That was soooo good,¡± I sighed contentedly and licked my lips.


    ¡°Well, I''m glad you liked it,¡± Felda said cheerfully. ¡°For a moment there, it sounded like you didn''t like fish.¡±


    Oh, had she caught my little slip before? Lifting my head off the bar, I cleared my throat.


    ¡°Oh, ah, no, of course not,¡± I said with a casual chuckle. ¡°That would be ridiculous, of course I do. But, ah, I''ve never had fish that tasted that good before!¡±


    Although I still knew next to nothing about this place, I had enough sense to figure that if there were other cat people like me around, they''d probably all be equally as big fans of fish as I apparently was now.


    ¡°Oh, you flatterer, you,¡± Felda giggled, reaching down and taking the empty basket that, until a scant few minutes ago, had contained the most delicious meal I could ever remember tasting. ¡°It was only a little fried cod, I''m sure you''re used to much more exotic dishes.¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure, but, sometimes simple can be better,¡± I said, eager to cover up the fact that I had no idea why she''d assume I was some kind of seafood gourmand. Was that just the reputation cat people had? I hadn''t had many chances to enjoy high-end dining back on Earth, but I did have plenty of experience with comfort foods, especially of the cheap, greasy, salty varieties. Thinking about that brought a notion to the front of my mind.


    ¡°Oh, you know what would go great with those,¡± I said, sitting up in my stool. ¡°Some chips.¡±


    ¡°Chips?¡± Felda asked, tilting her head.


    Oh, I guess that meant no potatoes in this world. I cried a little inside at that, but still held out hope that Felda might know a similar enough alternative, if I described them well enough.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s called fish and chips. Or, I guess fish n¡¯ chips if you wanna be accurate. They¡¯re thick wedges of this vegetable called a potato, they get fried in the oil too, and then covered in salt and vinegar, it''s amazing.¡±


    ¡°A potato, huh?¡± Bart asked, his tone dry.


    ¡°Yeah, they''re great, they''re like a big thick root, they''re brown on the outside and kinda¡­ yellow-ish on the inside, unless they''re sweet potatoes, those are orange,¡± I explained, holding up a hand and starting to count off all the dishes I could recall being made from potatoes. ¡°You can make so much stuff with them, like, hash browns, latkes, or french fries, scalloped potatoes, potatoes au gratin, potato soup, potato salad. Or, you can just bake them whole and have them like that, you can boil them, mash them, stick them in a¡­¡±


    Damn, I was making myself hungry again. I looked up to find Felda smiling at me and slightly covering her mouth with her fingers.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry dear, I don''t mean to laugh at you, it''s just¡­ we do have potatoes down here too,¡± she said, and I felt my cheeks grow hot. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard them called chips though, and I don¡¯t recognize a few of those dishes, you¡¯ll have to tell me about them sometime.¡±


    ¡°R-right,¡± I said, ducking my head slightly. Well, I¡¯d made an ass out of myself again, but at least potatoes existed in this world.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d want to wait while I prepped some, but I¡¯ll tell you what, when I open up tonight I¡¯ll be sure to set aside a basket for you,¡± Felda said, and I felt my spirits lift again.


    ¡°Felda,¡± Bart spoke at my right, but Felda soundly ignored him.


    ¡°Are you still hungry now? The oil is still hot and I have some giant mussels I bet you¡¯d love,¡± Felda offered, smiling at me.


    ¡°Felda¡­¡± Again Bart tried to grab her attention, but her gaze never wavered from me, in a way that was starting to make me feel a little nervous.


    ¡°Uuuh¡­ sure?¡± I said, hesitantly. I didn¡¯t dare look at Bart to see what his reaction was, but it must not have been pleased, because a few moments after Felda turned and disappeared into the kitchen again, he slid from his stool with a sigh and followed after her.


    Well, if that isn¡¯t an obvious signal...


    As I sat, and wondered what Bart¡¯s problem was, a hushed voice drifted into my ears.


    ¡°Felda, what are you doing?¡±


    It was Bart¡¯s voice, but way more crisp and clear than it should have been considering the distance between us. I could tell he was whispering but he still sounded like he was sitting only two or three chairs away. And as I leaned over the bar slightly, the voices grew even louder.


    ¡°I¡¯m prepping these mussels, Bart,¡± Felda answered, and it was true, I could hear a mechanically rhythmic ¡°thok thok thok¡± sound as she worked.


    ¡°You know what I mean Felda, the girl¡ª¡±


    ¡°The girl¡¯s name is Samantha, Bart, and she¡¯s skin and bones. She was dropped from the sky, woke up in a strange bed, and has clearly been through something horrible, so I¡¯m making her some more to eat,¡± Felda cut Bart off, punctuating her speech with more forceful ¡°thwack¡±s of the knife. I heard a slight scraping of metal across wood, and then the chopping started up again. In the silence, Bart let out a sigh.


    ¡°If you keep feeding her like this, she¡¯ll never leave¡­¡± he said, sounding more tired than anything.


    ¡°And who¡¯s to say I want her to leave?¡± Felda asked, not skipping a beat between her perfectly timed chops. ¡°Gods above Bart, do you expect me to push her out the door the moment she¡¯s got her feet back under her?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t keep her,¡± Bart said, in what felt like the verbal equivalent of jumping several spots in the queue.


    ¡°I don¡¯t recall saying I planned to ¡®keep¡¯ anybody, Bart, just help a young girl in need,¡± Felda said, her tone growing more testy by the second. If I were Bart, I would not want to be standing very close to her, especially while she was holding what sounded like a very big knife.


    ¡°She¡¯s a catkin, Felda,¡± Bart said, as though that trumped whatever she¡¯d said.


    ¡°Oh, you know I don¡¯t believe any of that Empire hogwash, and you especially ought not to, Bart,¡± Felda said, warningly. Uh oh, I already didn¡¯t think I was going to like the direction this conversation was going, but throwing in an ¡°Empire¡± with a capital E definitely set my hair ¡ª and my fur ¡ª on end.


    ¡°You know me better than that,¡± Bart said, and Felda made a noise that I thought might have been apologetic. ¡°It ain¡¯t like that, all that stuff they preach about the beastkin being ruled by their instincts, being inferior, we both know that¡¯s swill.¡±


    Woah woah woah, hit the brakes there. This ¡°Empire¡± already seemed like a bad deal but finding out they were¡­ animal people racists made me dead certain I never wanted to end up anywhere near that place, wherever it was.


    ¡°But,¡± Bart continued, in a way that set off warning bells in my head. ¡°I¡¯ve been up there, Felda. I¡¯ve seen them. The catkin, the¡­ the ones that are left. They¡¯re¡­¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but notice the slight tremor in his voice, that he tried to cover with a cough.


    ¡°Harmless?¡± Felda offered.


    ¡°Useless,¡± Bart corrected, and I almost stood up on my stool and jumped the countertop. Only my fingertips, tightly clamped onto the edge, kept me in my seat. ¡°Every one I ever met, they were always the same. Too¡­ aloof, too flighty, too easily distracted to support themselves, to live on their own. That¡¯s why the upper crusters keep them around, they¡¯re a status symbol. Another way to say ¡®look how much money I have to burn¡¯.¡±


    Oh.


    Wow.


    That was a lot to take in. Other cat people out there were like¡­ trophies for rich people? On my brand new, rapidly-growing list of people never to run into, I added ¡°Rich Person,¡± right under ¡°Anyone from The Empire.¡±


    While I was thinking, Felda had stopped her chopping, and was apparently mulling over her words too, from the hesitation in her voice the next time she spoke.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know what you saw, Bart. I don¡¯t think you¡¯d lie to me unless you had good reason to, so I believe you may have seen¡­ some things¡­ that were as you say,¡± Felda said, sounding so resigned by the end. But I heard her pick up the knife again, and resume chopping, much slower this time. ¡°But if that is the truth, then that¡¯s all the more reason for me to help her.¡±


    Hell yeah, go Felda! Officially my favorite person in this world so far. Bart didn¡¯t seem to have a quick answer to that, and in the ensuing silence I heard Felda moving about the kitchen, a chorus of dense thumps as the sliced mussels were poured into a bowl.


    ¡°People around town will notice,¡± Bart finally said. ¡°They¡¯ll wonder how you can afford to put someone up who contributes nothing and eats more than a growing child.¡±


    Yeesh. Some of that was hitting way too close to home. I mentally moved Bart down to the number three slot on my list, and wondered if I could go out to the street and meet some horse turds I liked more than him to fill the second slot.


    ¡°You let me worry about that,¡± Felda said, and suddenly my ears were full of hissing and sizzling as the first of the mussels hit the hot oil. That made it harder to make out what was being said, and Bart seemed to have lowered his voice even more.


    ¡°... can¡¯t start spending¡­ ¡­guild will notice¡­ ¡­found out, and then what¡­¡±


    Ah, hmm. Well, I had probably eavesdropped enough for one day. I sat back in my chair and sighed. It sounded like being turned into a catgirl meant I was going to have a lot of people, literally and figuratively, looking down at me, even the well meaning ones. That also helped to squash my last remaining spark of hope that this was some sort of overly vivid dream, because there was no way if this was my dream that I would have made myself into something so pathetic people couldn¡¯t help but look down on me. I also wouldn¡¯t have made myself a girl!


    On the other hand, it sounded like Felda was adamant about letting me stay with her indefinitely and keeping me fed, and I was all too happy to let her¡­


    My train of thought was jolted by footsteps, not from the kitchen, but from the stairs at the far end of the tavern. That flight didn''t lead up to Felda¡¯s bedroom, instead it led to the second floor of the tavern where I assumed the guest rooms were located. I turned in my stool, in time to see the figure descending the stairs step off onto the landing with a heavy thud.


    ¡°Well, hello there, you!¡± the squat, broad-shouldered man with skin the color and texture of rain-wet cement called in a chipper, clipped voice, and I felt my jaw fall open involuntarily. ¡°Finally up and about are ya?¡±


    ¡°Uuuuh¡­¡± I said, before wrenching my gaping mouth shut and swallowing, hoping the man had somehow missed me obviously gawking at him. Quite the opposite, as he grinned easily at me, revealing a mouth full of huge, flat tombstone teeth.


    ¡°Ah, first time meetin¡¯ a dwarf, is it?¡± he asked as he approached the bar, and I got a better look at him. He was wearing thick, heavy trousers of a very rough-looking cloth, and a sleeveless white undershirt. His skin really did look coarse up close, and I also saw what I thought were freckles on his cheeks and shoulders, until a beam from one of the windows caught them and I saw they glinted and glittered in the sunlight. Both his hair, and his thick mass of a beard, were dark red and incredibly curly, resembling a mass of copper shavings more than anything. His eyes twinkled¡ª literally, his pupils looked like two deep set rubies ¡ªbehind two very round cheeks, pushed up by his smile. As he climbed up onto the stool beside me, I saw that once seated, we were of the same height, and that capping off each of his thick, powerful-looking fingers were black nails that shimmered like obsidian.


    This was what a dwarf was here? I couldn¡¯t wait to see what elves were like then¡­


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± I said dumbly, remembering he¡¯d asked me a question.


    ¡°Well, ain¡¯t that a trick, ¡®tis my first time meetin¡¯ a catfolk, dontcha know,¡± the cheerful man said, sticking out his slab-like hand towards me. ¡°The name¡¯s Nils, lass. Nils Dahlgren, don¡¯t ya go forgettin¡¯ it, y¡¯hear?¡±


    The way this guy talked was making my head ache a little again; something about his accent or his very quick cadence made me almost miss the words he was actually saying. I stuck my hand into his palm and it was swallowed up by rough, leathery, calloused fingers.


    ¡°S-samantha, er, but, call me Sam,¡± I said, and Nils nodded, giving my hand four quick pumps up and down.


    ¡°Can do, Sam!¡± he said, and for some reason it felt like an immense pressure had been lifted from my brain. ¡°And I¡¯m glad ta see yee¡¯ve landed back on yer feet, eh?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, blinking at him. I got it was a cat joke, but did he know about me already? Then, I recalled some of the hazy conversation I¡¯d listened in on while I was still waking up earlier. Bart had mentioned Nils¡¯ name¡­


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, because this was another stranger that had seen me naked even before I had. At the very least, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Maybe even too nice.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Nils said, closing his eyes and nodding, managing to sound somber. ¡°Gave Bart and I such a startle, ye did. Fortunate, ye were, that we were right there, or ye¡¯d be¡ª¡±


    ¡°Feeding the fishes, yeah,¡± I said, shivering a little. ¡°Bart told me.¡±


    So, that really was how I¡¯d come into this world? Falling out of the sky like I was some kind of fairy tale mythical child? Or Superman?


    ¡°Ach, ¡®course, forget I even brought it up, lass,¡± Nils said, shaking his head. ¡°As ye can see, me mouth tends ta steal a march on me brain sometimes, ye just let me know when I step over the line, aye?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said, after taking a moment to process what he¡¯d even said. A little less off-balance, I sat up in my stool again. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it too much.¡±


    ¡°I shan¡¯t worry about it any more than I already intended, then,¡± Nils said, in what I thought was supposed to be a joke. ¡°So, is there anything ye¡¯d like to know about the earthen folk?¡±


    I assumed he meant dwarves, and considered the question for a moment. There were lots of things I wanted to know, but I wasn¡¯t sure which ones crossed the line from ¡°harmless questions anyone might ask¡± into ¡°so obvious no one from this world would ever ask that¡±. I really wanted to know why he looked like if he stopped moving he could pass for a statue, but that seemed too direct for my first question.


    ¡°Where¡­ do you come from?¡± I asked. That was reasonable, right?


    ¡°Aah, yee¡¯ve never heard of the dwarven motherland?¡± Nils beamed, and when I shook my head he clapped his hands¡ª twice, for some reason ¡ªand sat forward in his stool.


    ¡°Well, tis a beautiful place. Up in the north, she is, deep in the Boiling Seas. Surrounded by four mighty volcanoes is where ye¡¯ll find her, Eurig, slowly roamin¡¯ the sea floor, gobblin¡¯ up the minerals and metals down thar and passin¡¯ ¡®em on to us, her children.¡± As he spoke, his ruby eyes drifted towards the ceiling and took on a far-away look. ¡°Oh, it would set yer soul afire to see it, the capital city of Jarnhelm, glitterin¡¯ in the sunlight, spires thrust into the sky like a great crown upon her back. To hear the drummin¡¯ of a hundred thousand hammers at work in the forges, to hear the songs echo up from the tunnels as all me brothers an¡¯ sisters work the mines, ach.¡±


    Nils paused, and ran a finger under one of his eyes, even though I was pretty sure he hadn¡¯t actually started crying.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Ah, sorry lass, here I go, gettin¡¯ all choked up about me home when ye must be feelin¡¯ a terrible homesick yerself,¡± he said, and I bit my lip.


    I hadn¡¯t actually sat down and sorted out exactly how I felt in that regard, and was hoping to put it off as long as I could.


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± I assured Nils. ¡°My home wasn¡¯t¡­ that amazing.¡±


    Nils looked at me strangely while I thought about what he¡¯d told me. For all he¡¯d said, I wasn¡¯t sure I understood a lot of it. It sounded like the place he came from¡­ moved around? And ate minerals? At least the bits about forges and mines sounded familiar, but it sounded like the dwarves didn¡¯t exclusively live in mountains and underground, like I¡¯d expected. Maybe the dwarven homeland was a huge, mechanical castle that moved? That would explain the bits that didn¡¯t seem to make sense.


    ¡°Anyway, uh, it sounds neat. Maybe I¡¯ll visit it someday,¡± I said, and Nils let out a cheerful bark of laughter.


    ¡°Aye? Well, I hope ye get the chance! Ye¡¯d need some proper protection though, tis so hot there a little thing like ye would crisp up like a fallen autumn leaf driftin¡¯ into a campfire.¡±


    Oh, right, he said there were volcanoes there¡­ wait, did that mean¡­


    ¡°So, dwarves are heat resistant then?¡±


    ¡°Aye, that we are! Tis said, the only thing what can burn a dwarf are the hottest flames at the heart of a volcano,¡± Nils explained, and I felt my jaw drop again.


    ¡°Woah¡­¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Nils agreed, nodding his head. ¡°But, I think I¡¯ve talked yer ears off e¡®nuff this mornin¡¯, how about yerself? How¡¯re ye finding Rower¡¯s Rest so far?¡±


    Oh, right, that¡¯s what this place was called.


    ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t gotten to experience much of it yet, but¡­¡± I thought back to the, admittedly, very small pool of experiences I¡¯d had so far for anything significant I could draw from. ¡°But, it smells nice, and the seafood is fantastic.¡±


    Speak of the devilfish, the kitchen door opened, and Felda stepped out, this time with a much taller basket, filled to the brim with a towering pile of browned, crispy-looking oblong orbs a little smaller than a golfball. I took the quickest whiff I could, and the smell that hit me was like if you took the ocean and covered it in butter, crisp and clean and salty.


    ¡°Oh, Nils, good morning,¡± Felda said, spotting the dwarf.


    ¡°Soliel bless ye as well, Felda,¡± Nils replied, his eyes landing on the basket of fried mussels and twinkling a little. ¡°My, someone¡¯s hungry.¡±


    ¡°That someone,¡± Felda began, setting the basket before me but keeping her eyes on Nils, ¡°is this young lady, and she doesn¡¯t have to share unless she wants to, y¡¯hear?¡±


    Nils laughed, putting his hands up. ¡°I wouldnae think of askin¡¯!¡±


    ¡°Uh, no, go ahead,¡± I said, taking a closer look at the tower of mouth-watering lumps of fried batter and shellfish. ¡°I¡­ probably couldn¡¯t eat this whole thing by myself.¡±


    I could probably try, though, but I still wanted to make up for my earlier rudeness. Behind the bar, Felda exhaled a laugh and crossed her arms.


    Mindful again of the heat, I picked up one of the lumpy orbs with my thumb and forefinger, finding it lighter than it looked. I raised it up, giving it another little sniff just for the sake of it, then popped the whole thing into my mouth and bit down.


    Just like last time, it was like getting struck by lightning directly in the mouth, my entire tongue lighting up at once. The batter was a little different, with a slightly hotter blend of spices, and some larger chunks of something that added to the amount of crunch that resulted from biting into it. As for the giant mussels themselves, once my teeth pierced the soft, slightly chewy flesh, sweet, briny juice gushed out. The texture was just what I¡¯d expected, that strange mixture between the yielding softness of a mushroom and the sinewy snap of meat that was so unique to mussels.


    I once again felt myself melt in my chair, my eyes closed and my head tilted back, an unstoppable ¡°Mmmmmm!¡± rumbling up my throat like a thunderclap.


    ¡°Moons be praised, Felda, ye¡¯ve keeled her!¡± Nils¡¯ voice was an anchor that helped me return to my corporeal form, and finish chewing and swallowing that first mouthful.


    Blinking my eyes open, I once again had to wipe a little extra moisture out of them with the back of my hand, looking sheepishly from Felda to Nils.


    ¡°S-sorry, I just¡­ I really like seafood,¡± I said, licking my lips and already reaching for another mussel.


    ¡°Nonsense, it warms my heart seein¡¯ you enjoy my cookin¡¯ so,¡± Felda said, reaching down to pluck one of the crispy snacks for herself. ¡°And you can look forward to plenty more where these came from.¡±


    Her tone was a little pointed, but not in my direction. Bart, who had returned to his seat on my other side at some point while I was in shellfish nirvana, hmphed into his empty glass.


    Yeah, I could get used to this.


    It was halfway through the top half of the basket before I remembered the drink Felda had poured me, and reached out to use some of it to wash down the mouthful of mussels I was chewing. I¡¯d noticed it had a powerful citrus scent when she¡¯d poured it, and when I raised the glass and took several sips, it was so sour that I felt my lips and cheeks tingle.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said, between coughs. ¡°That¡¯s some strong lemonade!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry dear,¡± Felda said, reaching over the bar to pat my back. ¡°I forgot, folks around here tend to like it tart like that, I can get you something else.¡±


    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s good,¡± I hastily clarified. ¡°But, it could use a little more sugar.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, sugar?¡± Felda said, retrieving her hand and bringing it to her chin. Bart shifted in his stool and Felda, already predicting his protest, pointed a finger at him. ¡°I can spare some sugar, I have plenty. Which kind do you prefer?¡±


    ¡°Uuuhh¡­¡± Shit, quick, deflect with another question. ¡°What kinds do you have?¡±


    ¡°I have amber sugar, coral sugar, and elf sugar,¡± Felda listed off, and I felt my head spin a little. None of those sounded like just regular, plain old white sugar, and probably had their own specific flavor profiles. Was there one that would go best with the tart lemonade? I couldn¡¯t ask without revealing I didn¡¯t know what any of those were, and that information sounded like the most common of common knowledge.


    ¡°Coral sugar,¡± I said, just picking one at random.


    Felda¡¯s eyebrows did raise a little at that, but not enough to suggest that I¡¯d picked the worst possible choice, just an interesting one.


    ¡°Hmm, alright then, I¡¯ll be right back,¡± she said, picking up the pitcher and returning to the kitchen. I sighed, internally, and helped myself to another mussel.


    Felda returned quickly, and the pitcher of lemonade had been transformed. Whatever coral sugar was, adding it to the pale yellow mixture had given it a distinctly red-orange hue, like the flesh of a blood orange. Felda poured the new concoction into my glass, and I raised it to give it another try.


    The sweetness definitely helped wrestle the sourness back into line, but there were other new notes to the flavor, a fruity tang and just the slightest hint of salt in the aftertaste. It was an interesting combination indeed, but not a bad one.


    ¡°Hmm, coral sugar in the lemonade,¡± Felda mused aloud while I continued to eat and drink. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll see if my customers like it too.¡±


    Eventually, between me, Felda, Nils, and even Bart a few times, the basket and the pitcher were emptied, and I once again relaxed against the countertop, fully and completely satisfied.


    ¡°Ahhh¡­¡± I sighed.


    ¡°I agree,¡± Nils said, slipping out of his stool. ¡°Thank ye fer the snack, but I think tis about time I head ta work. You take it easy now, Sam. Stop by me forge and see me sometime, when yer back on yer feet.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I will!¡± I called after him, half turning in my seat to wave while he made his way to the door. So, he was a blacksmith then? I guess when you¡¯re a people who can live next door to volcanoes, that was the perfect job.


    The perfect job, huh?


    A short while after Nils left, and after Felda had taken away the empty basket and glasses, my meandering train of thought was derailed yet again, by perhaps my most pressing question yet.


    ¡°Uuuh¡­¡± I broke the comfortable silence that had fallen. Felda looked up from what she¡¯d been doing, which looked like counting and measuring the mounts of each type of liquor she had behind the bar.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± she asked wordlessly, but I hesitated. Bart was still seated at the bar a few stools away from me, and had pulled out a book with a wrinkled, weather worn cover, but he¡¯d definitely still be able to hear me.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your, uh¡­ bathroom?¡± I asked, still lowering my voice a little.


    ¡°Oh, you want to take a bath?¡± Felda asked, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I probably should have guessed that one was coming. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have a tub of my own, but there¡¯s a few bathhouses in town, I could take you¡ª¡±


    ¡°No no, not that,¡± I quickly cut her off before she could take that idea any further. So, baths, at least in this village, were public, huh. That¡­ might prove to be a problem, for Future Sam. But Current Sam needed something else.


    ¡°I mean, where can I go to¡­ ¡®go¡¯?¡± I asked again, emphasizing the last word in a way I prayed she understood.


    ¡°Ooooh,¡± Felda said in realization, then at full volume, clarified. ¡°The toilets.¡±


    I sighed.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d love to have some put in, for the customers, but they said my building is too close to the water,¡± Felda continued, oblivious to my discomfort. ¡°So, I¡¯m afraid the closest ones are also the public toilets up the road. Bart, why don¡¯t you show her the way?¡±


    I turned, and found Bart, obviously looking up from his book, his eyes moving from me to Felda, and back again. It looked like he was less thrilled by that prospect than even I was, but in the end he let out a weary sigh of his own and closed the book.


    ¡°Alright then. Come along,¡± Bart said, rising to his feet and already starting towards the door.


    ¡°W-wait for me!¡± I called after him. I hadn¡¯t nearly mentally prepared myself enough to just¡­ what, step out onto the streets of a completely unfamiliar town, looking like I did now? It was mid day, or just about, there would definitely be loads of people out there, argh!


    Bart, thankfully, did pause at the door, turning back to look at me. I looked down at myself, at my spindly limbs, my tiny hands and slender, claw-tipped fingers. I felt my ears flick a few times, and moved my tail out from behind me, holding it in my palms and idly playing with it while I tried to steel myself.


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± I breathed quietly, hopping down onto my bare feet and plodding across the wooden floor. ¡°Just¡­ act like nothing¡¯s wrong. This is normal. Everything is totally normal for you.¡±


    I found Bart, staring down at me, his hands in his pockets. He had picked up a huge, dark blue overcoat from a rack beside the door, and threw it over his shoulders once I stood beside him.


    ¡°Stay close to me,¡± Bart cautioned, and I resolved to do just that.


    The door opened, letting in a pleasantly cool, salt scented breeze. I could smell so many things on that wind. Food, animals, fires burning away in hearths and ovens, people working hard to support themselves and their families, all of it mixing together into one combined scent.


    It smelled like¡­ adventure.


    Well, no, it smelled like fish.


    With one more deep breath, I stepped out the door after Bart, and started to follow him to the street.


    ¡ö ¡ö


    ????-????


    ??????


    Across the ocean, and one night previous, in an area of the southern central seas known as the Sea of Blades, another body hit the water, miles away from any other living souls. Two shooting stars, one red and one purple, continued on their journey.


    Huh¡­ smells like fish¡­


    Morgan opened her eyes.


    The first, and most pressing concern that presented itself to her suddenly conscious brain was that she was underwater!


    Kicking her legs and flailing her arms, she tried to orient herself and find out which way was up. It was so dark and murky, there was no doubt it was still nighttime on the surface.


    What the fuck! she screamed inside her head. I knew someone was going to fall off that stupid boat, but did it have to be me?


    Pressing her lips as tightly together as she could, she pointed herself in the direction that she was pretty certain was up, and kicked. She was amazed at how far down she had gotten after, what, passing out and slipping off the deck? Somehow, she didn¡¯t feel a single ounce of strain in her lungs, and she definitely wasn¡¯t drowning. The faster she swam towards the surface, the more invigorated she felt, and the panic that had gripped her heart gave way to exhilaration.


    How am I swimming so fast? she asked herself. She was an outstanding swimmer, if her coach could be believed, but she was pretty sure she was rising towards the surface at speeds faster than even her best lap. So fast, in fact, that the surface rushed in to meet her before she had time to slow herself down, and she found herself breaching the water like a dolphin.


    Not a dolphin¡­ she mentally gasped as she hung there, suspended in the air for a single heartbeat before gravity reasserted itself. A shark.


    In the light of the moon, she had gotten a glimpse of her flailing arms and legs, the skin of which were now a mottled gray, with the tops of her arms being darker than the undersides, with even darker bands running perpendicular along her limbs. Her splayed fingers had an extra membrane of flesh stretched between them, and her feet were the same. Interestingly enough, she appeared to have claws too.


    The last thing she saw before she hit the water again was that she was apparently entirely alone in the middle of the ocean.


    Once back in the water, she gave herself a more thorough checking over, discovering a large protrusion from her back and, to her complete shock, a thick tail that sloped down from the base of her spine. The shape of it conclusively confirmed her assessment of herself as a shark, as the large fins at the end were vertical rather than horizontal.


    I''m dreaming, she concluded. As she sank back into the water, she exhaled, and noticed that she felt no compulsion to return to the surface and fill her lungs with air. She seemed perfectly capable of ¡°breathing¡± the seawater, feeling it move over and through what she had found to be a set of gills on the sides of her neck and torso.


    This has to be a dream, she repeated, as she took off swimming in a random direction. She''d had swimming dreams before, but never like this. She was experiencing everything so clearly, from the distant chill of the water and the feeling of the currents washing over her body, to the gorgeous underwater vistas she glimpsed as she sped by, from slowly-swaying kelp forests, to eerily skeleton-like coral reefs, and even groves of faintly-luminous anemones. Even though she was underwater, she could see with crystal clarity, so sharply she could pick out individual details anywhere she looked, like picking out the tiny, silvery scales on the bodies of fish that scattered in her wake.


    Morgan spent a good while just swimming, seeing how fast she could accelerate, how quickly she could turn in the water, and of course, breaching the surface several more times, before pausing to rest and catch her¡­ breath?


    While puzzling over that particular lexical riddle, another mystery presented itself to her. As she ¡°breathed¡± in the water around her, she began to pick up sensations, a curious, indescribable mixture of taste and smell combined, that carried so many fascinating flavors. As she floated in place, trying to ¡°sniff out¡± the tastes of some of the various schools of fish and other sea life she saw darting about, she wondered idly if she was fast enough to catch one of them.


    Of course I am! What kind of apex predator would I be if I wasn''t?


    She chuckled to herself, and flipped ¡°upright¡± in the water again, singling out the closest cluster of fish and taking off. They scattered, and she gave chase, pumping her legs even harder. The fish were small and nimble, but she had the advantage in raw speed, and it didn''t take her long to learn how to predict the way they''d move, and account for it. In no time at all, she was bearing down on a particularly lustrous fish that had been separated from the pack, her eyes fixed on its frantically thrashing tail.


    Huh, kind of looks like a koi fish, she mused, chalking it up to dream logic, as the species of carp people thought of as koi didn¡¯t develop that distinctive color pattern in the wild, and also weren¡¯t saltwater fish.


    The fish, for its credit, held its own for much longer than she thought it would. It led her on a merry chase, trying to dive deeper in search of a crevice to slip into, but always pulling back up when Morgan began to get too close. Twice she almost lost it between a coral forest, and then a narrow underwater canyon, weaving in between the towering rocks that jutted up from below and continued up beyond the water¡¯s surface.


    Unfortunately for the clever little fish, it was much smaller than Morgan, and didn¡¯t have the stamina to continue outrunning her forever. It made one last desperate sprint towards the surface, and she followed, feeling herself grin as the distance between them shrunk with each kick. The fish was close now, so close she could have reached out and grabbed it, so close, she could just open her mouth and¡­


    And then, she came to a sharp and sudden stop as she felt herself collide with, and then become tangled in, something she hadn¡¯t seen floating in the water until it was too late. It was a rough, woven net, and the more she tried to backpedal and push away from it, the more twisted up in it she became.


    Well shit, she mentally sighed as she hung there, suspended in place. The fish, rather than frantically continuing to flee, stopped and swam back around, rising up to hover at her eye level. It stared at her, with its large black eyes full of reflected starlight, and she stared back, until the fish darted in and whapped its tail against her nose before darting away.


    Did¡­ did that fish just sass me? Morgan thought in disbelief, watching the fish disappear into the distance, leaving her behind in the net. Before she could really get her bearings and attempt to more calmly and rationally extricate herself from her predicament, she felt the entire net lurch upwards.


    Twisting her neck, she looked towards the surface of the water and, for the first time, noticed the dark oblong shape that must have been the boat this net was attached to. The net grew tighter as she was drawn further and further up, until she finally broke the surface and was hauled into the air, the net constricting her and leaving her dangling in an awkward position.


    And there, on the deck of the medium-sized fishing vessel, were its crew. The net she was trapped in was attached to a pair of pulleys, and two of the crew had been operating a crank attached to them, before they caught sight of her. Behind them, several more crew members had gathered, as if in anticipation of seeing what kind of outstanding catch they''d landed.


    Normally, when people have a dream about being naked in front of a crowd, it''s something normal like a classroom or a meeting, Morgan mused. It doesn''t usually come with being half shark and getting caught by fishermen. I can''t wait to tell Dr. Adams about this one.


    She knew her therapist had told her not to put too much stake in analyzing her dreams, but she was willing to bet he''d at least have something to say about this one.


    Speaking of having something to say, it appeared the fishermen didn''t, at least not to her. A few of them were muttering to one another, but none of them had addressed her yet.


    Well, it would be rude to expect them to introduce themselves first.


    ¡°G-greetings, land dwellers,¡± Morgan said, waving one of her arms that stuck out at an odd angle halfway through one of the nets openings. That sounded sufficiently like something a shark person would say, right?


    ¡°Is that all ye¡¯ve got to say for ye''self?¡± one of the men immediately replied, in an accent so predictably thick Morgan would have called it clich¨¦d. ¡°Messin¡¯ about in our nets and wastin¡¯ our time and all ye''ve got to say is ¡®greetings?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­ s-sorry?¡± Morgan stammered, completely thrown off her script. She''d been prepared for these guys to react like they''d just fished up a mermaid or something, but they were treating her like an annoyance at best.


    ¡°Probably scared away all the fish too,¡± someone muttered while the crank operators used a pair of hooks on long poles to grab the net and drag it back over the deck of the ship.


    A latch was released, and she hit the deck like a sack of wet socks.


    ¡°Ow!¡± she yelped. ¡°That hurt!¡±


    Then, more confused than pained, she repeated, "That¡­ hurt?¡±


    It had hurt. She''d landed hard on her side and there was now a dull ache in her right hip that throbbed slightly with her heartbeat, which was increasing rapidly.


    You''re¡­ you¡¯re not supposed to be able to get hurt in dreams¡­


    That was the common line of thinking, anyway, and she''d known it to be true her entire life. Cold realization started to roll over her scaled skin while several of the fishermen moved to start untangling her from the net.


    ¡°Oh, come now, yer a big gal,¡± a voice said, coming from the closest fisherman as he knelt. Morgan looked up at him, and her breath caught in her throat. The man was older, and his face showed signs of serious weather wear, but he was very clearly not a human. His ears were pointed, for a start, and in the surprisingly bright light of the full moon, she could see his skin was a bright orange color, dappled here and there with patches of green and red, like a¡­ like a mango! It might have just been Morgan¡¯s imagination mixed with her growing panic, but she thought he even smelled faintly of mangos.


    ¡°B¡®sides, a few lumps is the least ya deserve for the trouble ye¡¯ve caused us,¡± another fisherman concurred, and Morgan felt even more like curling in on herself.


    ¡°This isn''t a dream¡­¡± she whispered, afraid that acknowledging it too loudly would only make it more true.


    ¡°What''s she mutterin¡¯ about?¡± another voice asked.


    ¡°Where d''you think her clothes got to?¡± A third, or maybe fourth voice, that one coming from the cluster of sailors who hadn¡¯t knelt down to help her out of the net.


    ¡°Oy!¡± snapped the man in the cap, making the whole crowd jump to attention. ¡°If ye ain¡¯t gona help then get back to work, this ain¡¯t a show!¡±


    His orders sent the milling onlookers scattering like roaches. Turning back to the net, he gave Morgan what she figured was his best apologetic look.


    That was the last straw. She was still coming to terms with the astronomical number of questions she had about her situation, but the revelation that the nudity she¡¯d chalked up to dream logic earlier was, in fact, not normal even for being some kind of half fish person, was enough to cause the last of her composure to collapse out from under her.


    ¡°I am s-s-so s-sorry,¡± she blubbered. She knew sharks couldn¡¯t cry ¡ª not being mammals, they lacked the lacrimal glands to produce tears ¡ª but she sure felt like crying. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know w-where I am, and I thought I was dreaming, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Woah now, take it easy, lass!¡± the older man shouted, pulling his fingers out of the tangle of ropes and putting his palms out. Morgan winced, but began taking deep, shaky breaths in an attempt to calm herself. ¡°There you go, now don¡¯t start thrashin¡¯ about, we don¡¯t want you shreddin¡¯ up our net.¡±


    ¡°R-right,¡± Morgan muttered.¡±The s-skin of a shark is covered in a layer of sharp, interlocking placoid s-scales that make them more hydrodynamic a-and reduce turbulence while s-swimming¡­¡±


    The fishermen, thankfully, ignored her while she quietly rambled off every tidbit and fact she could remember about various kinds of sharks, to ground herself while they worked her arms and legs free of the net. She got one arm loose and, lacking anything better to do with it, wrapped it around her chest and held herself. The rest of her limbs followed, and when she sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, the pointy-eared fisherman turned and snapped his fingers at one of the bystanders.


    ¡°Dale, yer coat,¡± he said. The man, Dale, opened his mouth to protest, but the older man¡¯s tone had brooked no argument, so he unslung the heavy overcoat he wore and passed it off. Morgan felt the heavy cloth settle over her shoulders and took another deep breath.


    ¡°T-thank¡ª¡±


    But that was as far as she got, before the voice of one of the other men the kindly older man had dismissed called out in alarm from the other side of the ship.


    ¡°C-captain! Ship!¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± the older man shouted back, springing to his feet and sprinting to the left ¡ª ¡°port,¡± Morgan reminded herself ¡ª side of the ship, slamming into the railing and peering out into the distance.


    Morgan looked up and held her breath.


    ¡°Captain, should we get the¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stow yer tongue, boy!¡± the man, the captain, hissed. ¡°We¡¯ll get through this just fine.¡±


    From her vantage point, seated on the deck of the ship, she could only see the other ship once it had fully listed up beside the fishing vessel. It was smaller than the fishing vessel, obviously built for speed, and had two towering masts, the sails of which were currently bound up tight.


    How did they sneak up on this ship, then? They¡¯d have heard if they were using oars, wouldn¡¯t they?


    Morgan sighed. Even in the midst of being trapped on a boat about to be boarded by, she assumed, pirates, she couldn¡¯t stop asking questions.


    Figures lined the railing of the far ship, but the fishermen had all moved to that side and were blocking her from getting a clear view, and she didn¡¯t particularly feel like standing up to see better.


    Not that that would help much, she groused. As much as she¡¯d tried to improve on it, her short stature remained a sore spot for her.


    ¡°Ahoy there!¡± a crisp voice rang out, clear as a bell, from somewhere Morgan couldn¡¯t see. The man in the hat looked down, over the railing. ¡°Prepare to be boarded!¡±


    Morgan saw the man¡¯s shoulders rise, then fall, like he was sighing, and he stepped back from the railing. The other sailors followed his lead, and cleared the area in front of the railing, just in time for several figures to clamber up from the ladder Morgan knew was there, just from what she understood of old sailing ships.


    The figures were, for the most part, what she¡¯d expected. Rough-looking men (and women, to Morgan¡¯s only mild surprise) in mismatched clothes, armed with swords and axes and knives, many of them scarred, all of them looking like they could eat her for breakfast, some of whom also showed the same range of vibrant, unnatural skin colors the old captain had. They spread out to fill the edges of the space the fishermen had cleared, but their stances were casual, relaxed. Either they weren¡¯t expecting violence, or were confident that even if it did break out, they were in absolutely no danger.


    It made sense, Morgan knew. Most pirate boardings were unresisted, despite what the movies might show you. Pirates, or fishermen, both parties were more keen on staying alive than risking their lives for whatever goods were at stake.


    Finally, the last two figures to board the ship crested the ladder, and Morgan felt her breath leave her.


    The first figure was dressed very differently from the rest, their body tightly bound in what looked like hundreds of feet of off-white cloth strips, like a haphazard mummy costume on the verge of coming apart. The parts of their skin that Morgan could see were black as ink, and caught the moon light in a curious way. Their head was covered by a hood, only the lower half of a surprisingly-round face poking out from under it, with long strands of stringy black hair hanging down on either side. As they stepped aside and turned to help the final figure, Morgan saw they, too, had a tail, a long, black, cloth-wrapped appendage that ended in a blunt tip.


    The final figure that climbed into the ship was even more startling and breathtaking. A woman, tall and lean, with a flowing red coat lined with coral-colored lace fringes draped across her shoulders, on top of a tight, high-necked black top that hugged her torso, and wide-legged black trousers that were tucked into knee-high red boots. Two swords clattered at her hips, both on the right side, and she had some kind of large red fruit clutched in one hand, while the cloth-wrapped person held the other to help her finish stepping down onto the deck.


    More startling than her clothes was the rest of her appearance, as like the older captain of the fishing vessel, her skin was an unnatural shade of pink-ish red, her hair that bounced in loose curls was a vibrant magenta, and her lips were black as the night¡¯s sky. She grinned, showing off a mouthful of sharp, ivory-white, pointed teeth, and took a bite of the fruit in her off hand, sending dark red juices dribbling down her chin.


    ¡°Well well well, what do we have here then?¡±

 Making A Splash - Chapter 1.3

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 3


    ¡ö


    ¡°I said stay close to me,¡± Bart repeated, for the third time.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± I called back, for the third time, half running to catch up to him. ¡°My legs aren¡¯t as long as¡­ as yours!¡±


    I¡¯d been about to say ¡°as they used to be,¡± which would have just been confusing and suspicious.


    I¡¯d been trying to follow Bart¡¯s instructions since we¡¯d left the door of The Crooked Hook behind, but the moment I¡¯d stepped out onto the street I¡¯d froze in place, for the first time. The street that Felda¡¯s tavern sat on was surprisingly busy, and I understood why as soon as I got a look at the rest of the buildings that flanked it. For starters, it was the last street before one hit the docks, so there were plenty of sailors and fishermen coming and going from both directions. And there also appeared to be several other taverns spread across the row, if the similar signage between them was any indication. The street-facing facade of each one bore a similar hanging sign, etched with a name and the symbol of two overflowing tankards, slightly tilted until their rims touched, and a large iron lantern set into the wall underneath it. I guessed lighting the lantern was a way to signal available vacancies, or something like that.


    Across the street, I found the other reason for there being so much foot traffic: the shops. I could pick out multiple clothing and tailoring shops by the mannequins in their windows, two butchers shops, a general store, and a handful I couldn¡¯t name but seemed to offer specialized services, like one I saw that seemed to sell nothing but barrels of varying sizes.


    But the main attractions were the bakeries. I could smell them, the scent of fresh baked goods cutting through the other smells of people and meats and the sea like a hot knife cutting through butter, then spreading that butter on¡­


    ¡°Hey!¡± Bart barked, and I jumped.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± I sputtered. I¡¯d stopped to stare in the window of another bakery, at the display shelves stocked with flaky pastries and treats. It¡¯d happened so many times now I really couldn¡¯t blame Bart for getting frustrated. ¡°Everything just smells soooo good.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not buying you anything,¡± Bart said, keeping his gaze fixed forward, ignoring the entire worlds of culinary delights we were passing by. ¡°You just finished eating.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t asking you to!¡± I protested. I knew by now that Bart had a pretty negative view of me, or, at least, of other cat people, so I knew better than to expect anything more than polite indifference from him. Now, if it had been Felda who I¡¯d been walking with¡­


    ¡°Good,¡± Bart grumbled. At the very least, he wasn¡¯t walking so fast that I had to hustle to keep up with him anymore. Still, if I was going to be staying at Felda¡¯s place for the foreseeable future, I was not looking forward to seeing Bart every day. Actually, that raised another question.


    ¡°Sooooo¡­¡± I started, tilting my head up to see Bart¡¯s face as we walked. ¡°Are you and Felda married or something?¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± he spat, his brow furrowed, his eyes leaving the street and fixing on me.


    ¡°Well, you act like an old married couple, I just wondered¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Bart cut me off, picking up his pace again. ¡°We¡¯re just old friends.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, smirking to myself. At least I¡¯d found one way to bother him right back if he kept being such a jerk.


    After our initial slow start, we reached our destination fairly quickly. Situated at one of the corners where the street became a three-way intersection, a squat building with a unique design stood out. It resembled the public toilets you might find at a park or playground, a single building with two open doorways, blocked from the street by a pair of wooden walls that almost met in the middle. As we approached the structure, I spotted a figure waiting outside. They wore flowing, earth-toned robes, and their face was covered by a wooden mask with large, circular glass lenses. They were leaning on a staff which had a hook-shaped lump jutting out of it, from which hung a slotted metal box, and as we approached Bart drew something from his pockets and dropped it into the slot. The figure nodded, touching their fingers to the edge of their wide-brimmed hat.


    ¡°Who is that?¡± I asked, after we¡¯d stepped inside the small dividing wall.


    ¡°One of the druids,¡± Bart explained.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, like I knew what that meant. ¡°Do you¡­ have to pay them to use the bathrooms?¡±


    ¡°No, they¡¯re paid by the taxes the village collects, but it¡¯s customary to make a small donation, if you can, to thank them for their services,¡± Bart elaborated, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.


    Huh. This fantasy fishing village had a surprising amount of infrastructure. I wondered what other public services there were¡­


    ¡°Well?¡± Bart prompted, and I jumped.


    ¡°Right,¡± I said, looking between the two open doorways, but there didn¡¯t appear to be any kind of signage. ¡°Uh, which one is which?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Bart asked.


    I blinked at him. He stared back at me.


    I moved to the left and carefully peered inside. I saw a row of raised bowls that were obviously sinks, a line of wooden cubicles, and a raised trough against one wall. I jogged across to the right side and peeked in, and found the same setup.


    Huh. Unisex toilets? How¡­ progressive?


    ¡°Uh, nevermind,¡± I said to Bart, who was still watching me curiously, and ducked inside.


    ¡ö


    ¡°That¡¯s going to take some getting used to,¡± I said, several minutes later after rejoining Bart and following him up the street again. When Felda had mentioned the toilets were public I¡¯d been picturing something else, like a few disgusting outhouses, not public facilities more well maintained than some restrooms I¡¯d seen back on earth. The sinks even had little alcoves with several tiny bars of sweet, floral-scented soaps on them. I took another sniff at my fingers, and could still only smell vanilla.


    ¡°A lot of things down here aren¡¯t going to be like what you¡¯re used to,¡± Bart said, and I looked up at him. He was sort of right, but not for whatever reasons he thought he was. I still hadn¡¯t worked out what he meant by ¡°down here¡±, so until I did I was going to have to stick to just nodding.


    Looking up from my hands, I finally noticed that we weren¡¯t heading back down the street towards the tavern, but had instead taken the intersection and were proceeding further into the village.


    ¡°Where¡¯re we going?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I have some things to do around town,¡± Bart said. ¡°You can head back now, if you want.¡±


    Oh, you¡¯re not getting rid of me that easily.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll stick around,¡± I said, stretching my arms over my head. ¡°I wana see what you¡¯re up to.¡±


    ¡°Fine, but no more dawdling,¡± Bart said, and I could see his jaw working as he walked, and hid my smirk behind the back of my hand. Which just reminded me of how good they smelled, and how good those pastries had smelled. I really was going to have to see if I could get Felda to let me try some sometime.


    Eventually, our path took us to the bustling main road, the one that I had glimpsed out the window of Felda¡¯s bedroom, and the closer we got to it the more I noticed the vibe of the village changing. The buildings became bigger, and the street became even more well maintained, transitioning suddenly from bare, well-trampled earth roads to an actual paved street, with tightly packed rust-colored bricks. I¡¯d expected walking on them to hurt, since I was still walking around without any shoes, but I didn¡¯t feel any extra discomfort following Bart across the well-worn stones.


    I also began to notice the people more, now that I didn¡¯t have the intoxicating aromas of bread and sweets distracting me. Though they varied in cut and style, the clothes did not vary much from person to person. Most were dressed in simple shirts and pants like the pair I¡¯d borrowed, but here and there I saw people dressed in more stand-out garb, like the women in long dresses and heavy aprons I saw occasionally, or the few people in flowing robes or colorful cloaks. I figured it was a matter of which people were locals, and which were out-of-towners, or maybe tourists.


    And, I couldn¡¯t help but notice that, as I looked at them more, many of the people looked back at me, and kept on looking, long after I¡¯d looked away.


    ¡°Uuh¡­ Why are people staring at me?¡± I asked, hunching my shoulders and moving a little closer to Bart¡¯s side, almost unconsciously.


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a catkin,¡± Bart answered, bluntly. ¡°Most of them will have never seen your kind before, and the few who have would never have seen one in a place like this.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I asked. I¡¯d been half keeping my eye out for any other cat people on the streets, but I¡¯d mostly been seeing, well, humans, and one or two other dwarves, and a handful of people I couldn¡¯t identify with pointed ears and bright, vibrant skin tones.


    ¡°What about other, uh¡­ y¡¯know¡­¡± Shit, what was the word he¡¯d used for other animal people?


    ¡°Other beastkin?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yeah, that!¡± I said, snapping my fingers and pointing up at him.


    ¡°We have a few around the village and in the outlying farms,¡± Bart said. He¡¯d stopped walking to answer, and was now looking at me strangely.


    ¡°Ah, okay. But, cat people, er, catkin, are rare down here?¡± I asked, and that only made his stare intensify, his brow furrowing and pushing his thick, black eyebrows together.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he finally answered, and resumed walking. I got the distinct impression that I¡¯d said something too unusual and he was on to me, but there was nothing I could do about that at the moment. I was spending all my spare brain power ignoring the onlookers.


    I was glad once we finally stepped into a shop, letting out a breath I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d been holding. I thought that no longer towering over everyone would help ease some of my social anxieties, but it seemed it wouldn¡¯t be that easy to overcome. Stepping away from the door, I raised my eyes and saw that we¡¯d entered a¡­ uh¡­


    ¡°What is this?¡± I asked Bart¡¯s back.


    The shop we¡¯d entered was small, with most of its floor space taken up by two shelves completely loaded with little glass bottles, each one containing some kind of colorful liquid, or powder, or small circular pellets. The ceiling was strewn with lengths of rope from which hung tied-up bundles of plants or dried-out dead animals, and the whole place was overwhelmingly fragrant, like I was sticking my nose directly into the spice cabinet.


    ¡°Apothecary,¡± Bart answered, moving to the long glass counter, at which I saw a much older man weighing a pile of black powder on a little scale. Behind him was a floor-to-ceiling shelf with even more glass bottles of what I could only assume were potions. The man looked up, squinting through a pair of tiny, circular glasses balanced on the end of his nose.


    ¡°Oh, good afternoon Bart,¡± the older man said, his lined face scrunching up as he smiled, bending up from his work. ¡°The usual then?¡±


    ¡°Afternoon, Alfred,¡± Bart replied, pulling something from his pocket. It was a small drawstring pouch, and he pulled from it a large silver coin, and set it on the glass countertop, while the old man moved to grab something from the many-drawered cabinet behind him. He came back with a metal tin with an image of a black leaf and a moon on it, and passed it off to Bart while collecting the coin with the other hand.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked while Bart tucked the tin into his coat.


    ¡°You ask a lot of questions,¡± Bart said, and I narrowed my eyes up at him. He ignored me, and turned to leave.


    ¡°Oh! Hello there!¡± the old man said, stopping me just as I was about to turn and follow. He adjusted his glasses on the end of his nose and peered down at me across the counter. ¡°Bart, who is this little critter?¡±


    Bart, whose shoulders rose and fell very dramatically, turned back around.


    ¡°Nobody, Alfred, don¡¯t worry¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Sam,¡± I blurted out, standing on my toes so I could stick my arm over the counter. Alfred¡¯s eyebrows went up and he smiled, taking my hand and shaking it.


    ¡°Oh, my pardons, I thought you were a lass,¡± Alfred said, chuckling politely.


    ¡°I am,¡± I said, then did a mental double take. Why had I corrected him? I wasn¡¯t a ¡°lass¡±, not technically, but that would take way more explaining. Alfred, for his part, looked as confused as I felt, but smiled nonetheless.


    ¡°Oh? Well, either way, I have something for you, Sam,¡± he said, once again rummaging around behind his counter. He came back with a wide-lipped glass jar and removed the top from it, holding it out towards me. Inside were several familiarly-shaped objects. They were little marble-sized spheres of something honey-colored, wrapped in translucent waxed paper. Just to confirm, I leaned forward and took a sniff.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ butterscotch?¡± I asked, and Alfred beamed and nodded.


    ¡°Indeed! Have a couple,¡± he said, and I obliged and reached into the jar. I took two, dropping one in my pocket and unwrapping the other, popping it into my mouth. The taste was immediate and strong, the hard candy bathing my tongue in the taste of brown sugar and butter, with an aftertaste of something dark and smoky.


    ¡°Mmmmmh¡­¡± I hummed as I tasted it, working out the flavors in my head until I was sure I¡¯d figured it out. ¡°Are these made with... molasses?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right! I guess it¡¯s true what they say, you can¡¯t sneak anything past a cat¡¯s tongue, huh?¡± Alfred asked with a wheezy chuckle as he replaced the jar behind the counter. ¡°Still, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see another catfolk in my lifetime. What brings you to our corner of the kingdom, little Sam?¡±


    ¡°Uuh¡­¡± I stammered, my brain churning up into overtime. I really hadn¡¯t thought of any way to explain what I was doing there, or even where I¡¯d come from before. I¡¯d been letting Bart and Felda come to their own conclusions, and figured by the time one of them asked I¡¯d have something to say, but this was too soon.


    Behind me, Bart dramatically cleared his throat, and for once I was glad he was so rude and blunt.


    ¡°Uh, sorry, we¡¯ve got a lot of stuff to do today!¡± I hastily explained.


    ¡°Oh, of course, don¡¯t let me keep you. It was a treat meeting you, Sam. Until next time, Bart,¡± Alfred said amicably, bending down to resume his work on the scales.


    ¡°Bye, thanks for the candy,¡± I said, walking backwards after Bart and returning to the streets. Once we were back outside I took several deep breaths to clear my head of the smoky, fog filled air of the apothecary.


    ¡°Phew, ¡° I breathed, looking up to Bart. ¡°Thanks for the save.¡±


    ¡°Alfred is nice, but he will talk your entire day away if you let him,¡± Bart said, once again taking off down the street with purpose in his steps.


    ¡°Yeah, I got that,¡± I said, working the slowly melting lump of candy back and forth in my mouth. It seemed like old folks could be counted on to be the same everywhere, fantasy world or not.


    ¡°He won¡¯t be the last one to ask,¡± Bart said, and when I looked up questioningly, he continued: ¡°Where you came from, what you¡¯re doing here. That¡¯s why it¡¯d be best if you keep quiet, and don¡¯t draw more attention to yourself.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡± I said, rolling my eyes. If he thought that would be enough to get me to clam up for the rest of the trip, he had another thing coming.


    Still, it did remind me that, when the time came, I was going to have to have answers ready for those questions. It hadn¡¯t occurred to me that I¡¯d simply been banking on never having to explain myself, and letting everyone make their own assumptions, but that was just easier than the alternative. And way easier than the truth. How did I possibly explain that before I¡¯d woken up in Felda¡¯s bed, I¡¯d been an entirely different person. That I came from an entirely different world. That I¡¯d been a human, and a¡­ a¡­


    I shook my head. I couldn¡¯t explain it. I¡¯d sound delusional, or worse. No, for the time being, I¡¯d just coast, I¡¯d learn what I could and let people believe what they wanted.


    Besides, I wasn¡¯t about to let Bart get away with such an obvious deflection.


    ¡°Speaking of questions,¡± I said, sidling up beside Bart again, ¡°You didn¡¯t answer mine. What was that you bought back there?¡±


    The way he twitched, he¡¯d obviously assumed I¡¯d just completely forgotten about his dodging the question only minutes ago. He sighed again and kept his eyes fixed on the road.


    ¡°Tea,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Oh, special tea?¡± I followed up, rapid-fire.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, starting to show his teeth slightly as he talked. ¡°It helps me sleep.¡±


    ¡°Oooooooh,¡± I said. I supposed that explained the moon on the container. ¡°You have insomnia then? That¡¯s rough.¡±


    Again, Bart broke his stoic stare to give me a look, and I cursed internally. Something about me was standing out to him as unusual, I was sure of it. It would be so much easier if I could meet another catkin and learn how they were supposed to be, but it sounded like that was highly unlikely for the time being. I just had to hope no one else was as familiar with them as Bart seemed to be.


    Still, I supposed maybe I¡¯d pestered Bart enough for one day, and he had answered my questions in the end, so I kept my mouth shut for a while as we walked, and studiously avoided asking any more questions.


    We made two more stops on the main street, first to one of the many general stores, where Bart picked up a pouch of tobacco and a couple spools of thread. Second, we entered a store that seemed to specialize in preserved foods, the bins on their shelves stocked full of long strips of dried meats and jerkies, the scents of which set me drooling again, as well as stacks of hard breads and cheeses, dried fruits, and salted fish. Apparently, Bart was pre-paying for a delivery of fresh food stocks to be delivered to the docks and loaded onto his boat, and again I watched him handle several more of those silver coins. I¡¯d have to remember to ask Felda to explain the currency they used around here to me sometime.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost done,¡± Bart said, seemingly out of nowhere. ¡°We just have one¡­¡± He stopped, and though I think he tried to hide it, he glanced at me out of the corners of his eyes before amending his statement. ¡°... Two more stops to make.¡±


    ¡°Okay?¡± I said, finding that I was slightly out of breath. I did have to take two or three steps for every one that Bart did, and he had been setting a pretty brisk pace. It wasn¡¯t just that my legs were a lot shorter, but my body also seemed out of shape, or underused, and I was going to have to work to build up its stamina. Now I knew how Morgan must have felt, before her parents made her take those classes at the gym.


    Bart let me set the pace, thankfully, and we arrived at another shop with a wide street-facing display window in the front. Behind the glass, I saw several tall pairs of sturdy looking boots, and further inside, I could make out more boots and shoes in various stages of completion sitting on shelves and hanging on racks.


    A shoe store? Or, what would it be called for them, a cobbler?


    ¡°You need new shoes?¡± I asked, looking down at Bart¡¯s own pair of well-trodden black boots.


    ¡°No, you do,¡± Bart said, and I blinked. ¡°I know you might prefer it, but you can¡¯t keep walking around barefoot. It¡¯s a miracle you haven¡¯t trod in something or hurt yourself already.¡±


    I had been keeping my eyes open for horse apples on the road, but I got his point. It still didn¡¯t change one fundamental fact though.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any money,¡± I said.


    ¡°I know,¡± Bart replied, putting his hand on the door and pushing it open, heading inside.


    Hmm. A sudden change of heart? Or was maybe Felda putting him up to it? Either way I hope he didn¡¯t expect me to pay him back any time soon.


    I followed Bart inside and found him at the counter, talking with a stocky blonde woman in a heavy leather apron and thick brown gloves. When she caught sight of me, her eyes went wide and she slapped both hands down on the wooden counter, leaning over it to get a closer look at me.


    ¡°Oh. My. Goodness!¡± she said, making no effort to hide her delight at meeting me. I was starting to recognize a pattern. ¡°Look at you! I could jus¡¯ eat you up!¡±


    Chuckling modestly, I approached the counter, sticking my arm out for another handshake, but she was having none of that, and raised a cut-out portion of the counter so she could come out and, with speed and strength I hadn¡¯t expected, lifted me off the ground in a crushing bear hug.


    ¡°Nyeh!¡± I yelped in protest, kicking my legs in the air behind me.


    ¡°Oh! Sorry hon¡¯, I jus¡¯ cain¡¯t help m¡¯self around cute things like you,¡± she said, thankfully placing me back on the ground, where I hunched over with my hands on my knees and caught my breath.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ okay¡­¡± I panted. I was pretty sure I¡¯d felt my spine let out several pops when she¡¯d squeezed me, but I wasn¡¯t going to hold that against her. Not so soon after she¡¯d held me against her, anyway. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ Sam¡­¡±


    ¡°Sam, huh?¡± the woman said, giving me a considering look up and down. I¡¯d thought this world wouldn¡¯t be completely unfamiliar with the idea of girls going by masculine names, but I supposed that was why I¡¯d picked the name I had.


    ¡°It¡¯s short for Samantha,¡± I explained, and the woman made a noise of comprehension.


    ¡°Ooooh!¡± Then, after thinking for only a few moments, she grinned at me and asked, ¡°An¡¯ what¡¯s Samantha short for?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Because she din¡¯t eat her veggies growin¡¯ up!¡± she answered, and burst out laughing, raising her hand to slap me on the back, then, thinking better of it, slapped Bart¡¯s back instead. Bart let out a groan on my behalf, because I was still too stunned to react. Was that a short joke? Was I going to have to get used to those now too?


    After she¡¯d calmed down, the woman gave me a more serious look and put one heavy gloved hand to her chin.


    ¡°Still, Samantha huh? Cain¡¯t say I ever heard that name. S¡¯cute though, jus¡¯ like you,¡± she said, sticking out her other hand. ¡°The name¡¯s Claire! Claire Perkins, and Barty-boy here tells me you¡¯re in need of some fine footwear?¡±


    ¡°Uh, that¡¯s right,¡± I said, glancing briefly at Bart. His jaw was working again, and I was beginning to worry about his teeth. I wonder if he was regretting this act of kindness already.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s see ¡®em then!¡± Claire said, moving forward and putting both hands on my shoulders, spinning me around and ushering me towards the far end of the shop, where a row of raised chairs were set against the wall atop a raised platform. I climbed up the short staircase and dropped into one of the chairs, and Claire produced a wooden box with an angled top and a raised edge at the bottom, indicating for me to rest one of my feet on top of it.


    ¡°Hmm, looks like you¡¯re ¡®bout an eight and a half, maybe nine,¡± Claire declaired, er, declared after looking at the notches for a moment. ¡°But them claws, those might be tricky. Can you retract ¡®em any more than that?¡±


    That was an excellent question. I had actually completely forgotten that I had those until she¡¯d mentioned them, and as I looked down at them, I tried to focus on feeling out whatever new muscles controlled them. I was pretty sure I felt something, and flexed it, a sensation running through my foot and up my ankles as the claws extended several inches.


    ¡°Woah,¡± I said, a little surprised at how long they turned out to be. I could probably do some serious damage if I kicked someone with those. I wondered how long the claws on my fingers got. Then, remembering this was the opposite of what I was supposed to be doing, I tried my best to reverse the feeling and¡­ un-flex the muscles? My claws retracted, but not much further than they had been when I¡¯d first started.


    ¡°Looks like a no then, and probably best to do away with anythin¡¯ closed at the front,¡± Claire mused, standing up again. ¡°Don¡¯ you worry though, I got plenty a¡¯ pairs of stylish sandals for the discernin¡¯ beastfolk!¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    With that, she disappeared behind the counter, and then through a hanging curtain, into the back of the shop. Bart, finally recovered from Claire¡¯s initial reaction to meeting me, wandered over.


    ¡°She¡¯s a lot, huh?¡± I said, quietly, and Bart let out a sigh.


    ¡°She¡¯s from one of the colonies,¡± Bart explained.


    ¡°I see,¡± I said, nodding my head. One day, that trick might stop working, but not this day. That also probably explained why her accent was so different; it sounded almost like a southern accent that had wandered off and gotten lost.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I started to speak again, but immediately stopped. I still wasn¡¯t sure if this sudden turn was of Bart¡¯s own doing or not, but I figured maybe it was his attempt at extending an olive branch, of sorts. ¡°Thanks¡­ for this, by the way.¡±


    Bart didn¡¯t say anything for several seconds, and I was almost convinced I¡¯d judged the situation wrong, but he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat and turned his whole body away, looking across the shop.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Sam,¡± he muttered, and I felt a smirk coming on.


    You are a puzzle box, Bart, but I¡¯m going to solve you.


    Finally, in a flurry of movement and curtain flapping, Claire returned with a small wooden box, loaded up with what I at first assumed were loose strips of leather, but were in fact, several pairs of sandals, the style that were mainly a sole and several straps that kept it held against the foot.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s try these!¡±


    I spent the next several minutes trying on pair after pair of sandals. I immediately vetoed any of the ones with even a slightly raised heel, and decided I wasn¡¯t a fan of the kind with ultra thin straps that went all the way up my shins. It felt a little too showy for me, so we started trying the pairs with thicker, bulkier straps, until I found the pair I liked the most.


    It was a sturdy pair with a thick sole of supple, dark leather, and broad straps of a brighter, reddish leather held in place with three simple buckles, one across the area just above my toes, one that wrapped around the bridge from the heel, and one that sat just above the ankle.


    ¡°A good choice, those,¡± Claire was saying while I was doing the customary awkward stomping shamble around the shoe store trying to get a feel for a new pair of footwear. ¡°Those¡¯re runner¡¯s sandals, got a good grip on ¡®em, an¡¯ they¡¯ll last you a long time I reckon. F¡¯they don¡¯t, bring ¡®em right back and I¡¯ll get ¡®em fixed right up, no sweat!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re great,¡± I agreed, doing a little jogging in place. For how sturdy they felt, they were surprisingly light. I actually could see myself taking up running in them. Which, considering my abysmal stamina, a bit of cardio probably wouldn¡¯t go astray.


    ¡°How much,¡± Bart asked, and I felt my heart sink a little. I had no frame of reference for any of the currency, but I couldn¡¯t imagine a pair of handmade shoes, especially a pair this nice, would be cheap.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s see,¡± Claire said, making a show of bringing a hand to her chin again. ¡°Let¡¯s call it¡­ five clams.¡±


    Uh, what? They didn¡¯t seriously use clams as money around here did they? No, I¡¯d seen Bart hand over those coins, maybe that was just a name for the currency?


    ¡°Claire¡­¡± Bart started to say, only for Claire to throw an arm around his shoulder and laugh boisterously. Then, something weird happened.


    ¡°Ah ha ha, I know Bart, it¡¯s quite a steal, huh?¡± Claire said loudly, more loudly than usual, and then, she did¡­ something to her voice, because when she spoke next she sounded somehow different in a way that made my brain hurt trying to figure it out.¡°Don¡¯t worry, you can pay me the rest when she¡¯s not around.¡±


    Huh?


    What was that supposed to be? Did she think I couldn¡¯t still hear her? She hadn¡¯t even lowered her voice that much, but she was clearly acting like the conversation was only between her and Bart for that moment. Bart looked from her, to me, then sighed and pulled the little pouch from his pocket again.


    ¡°Alright¡­ Sam, you be sure to thank Claire for giving us a deal,¡± Bart said, pulling out five of those large silver coins and handing them over to Claire. So, those were clams. One mystery solved. But, he definitely also seemed to think I hadn¡¯t heard what Claire had said to him. I thought about calling them both out on it, but I had a very strong feeling that that would be moving beyond suspicious and straight into alarming.


    And I really liked the sandals.


    ¡°T-thank you!¡± I blurted out, putting as much genuine enthusiasm into it as I could.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯ mention it! Actually, do mention it, tell your friends to visit ol¡¯ Claire for all their footwear needs!¡± Claire said, putting her hands on her hips and grinning.


    My friends, huh? The last time I¡¯d seen any people that could be considered my friends had been¡­ the party¡­ on the boat¡­ Mandy had put the whole thing together. She¡¯d gotten her parents¡¯ permission to use their lakehouse; said she wanted to get all of us together before we all went off to college. Before they all went off to college¡­


    ¡°Sam?¡±


    Bart¡¯s bassy voice brought me crashing back into the present and I looked up from the floor, which I¡¯d been boring holes into, and blinked my eyes a few times.


    ¡°Huh? S-sorry, I was, uh¡­ just thinking about something,¡± I said, clearing my throat a few times. Just as I was wishing I had some water, Bart pressed a canteen into my hands. I mumbled a ¡°thanks,¡± or maybe just thought about mumbling it, and took several greedy gulps. When I lowered the canteen and could see again, I found both of them, Bart and Claire, looking at me with such naked concern on their faces that it made my stomach lurch.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯ll¡­ outside!¡± I stammered, shoving Bart¡¯s canteen back into his hands and bolting from the store.


    ¡ö


    I spent several minutes with my back pressed against the cold glass pane of the display window in front of Claire¡¯s shop, just sucking in huge gulps of fresh air and trying to wrestle my jackhammering heart back under my control. Both my back and my brow felt slick with sweat, and the worst part was, I couldn¡¯t even understand why.


    I could sense Bart hovering over me before I even opened my eyes, but when I did I found him, looking not at me, but out at the bustling street.


    ¡°Are you¡ª¡± he began to ask, but I wasn¡¯t going to give him the chance to start pitying me.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said, jumping to my feet. ¡°We¡¯ve still got one stop left, right? Let¡¯s go.¡±


    I took a few steps, but of course I didn¡¯t know where we were going, so I turned, looking at Bart and tapping my foot impatiently. He met my glare, and his face looked so sad I just wanted to punch it.


    ¡°Alright. Felda needs a couple extra loaves from one of the bakeries,¡± Bart said, picking up his feet and starting to walk. Slowly, so I could keep up. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ get you something, while we¡¯re there.¡±


    ¡°I said I¡¯m fine,¡± I groused, roughly rubbing my palm against one of my eyes. It was stinging again.


    Fuck. Fuck.


    I had mostly gotten ahold of myself by the time we reached the first street, the one that led back to the crooked hook and was lined with so many shops that leaked such sweet smelling scents into the air. I no longer felt like I was about to crumble to pieces, but I was still angry, both at Bart for acting like he needed to handle me like a delicate china plate now, and myself for making him think that. But, the further down the street we walked, and the more of the delicious air I breathed in, the more my rage boiled away, until it was reduced to a bare simmer.


    Finally, we stopped, as Bart seemed to have picked out one of the bakeries for us to enter. I honestly wouldn¡¯t have known how to make such a choice, as they all looked and smelled quite similar. But, before I followed him inside, I noticed that the sign hanging above this one was different from the others. It still bore the iconic symbol of a loaf of bread fresh from the oven, but the sign itself was shaped not like a simple square, but as an oval, with a pair of protrusions at the top.


    Huh¡­ looks kinda like a¡­


    Then, I entered the store, and saw the woman behind the counter.


    R-rabbit!


    The woman behind the counter was tall, really tall, but instead of being built like Felda was, she was lean. She wore a long blue and white dress with short sleeves, and an apron that looked to be made of some sturdy canvas-like material, and heavily dusted with loose flour. Her skin was a tanned, caramel color and was contrasted by her hair, which was a snowy white with a hint of silver, worn in a long braid. And, there were two rabbit ears sticking out of the top of her head.


    ¡°Oh, what a surprise, hey there, Bart,¡± the woman said, turning her head to smile in our direction, and one of her huge ears flicked slightly.


    Oh my god. Is this how everyone feels when they look at me? No wonder no one can take me seriously!


    I tried not to let my mouth hang open as I followed Bart up to the counter, but I was almost certainly staring at her.


    ¡°Afternoon, Bonnie,¡± Bart said, and I had to bite down on my tongue. Her name was Bonnie? Did she have any idea how cute that was?


    Bart fished around in one of the pockets of his jacket and pulled out a folded square of paper, passing it over the counter to the rabbit woman.


    ¡°Felda needs these, said she¡¯ll pay you first thing next Solday,¡± Bart said, and Bonnie nodded her head, while I was struck by the realization that this place also had different names for the days, and I was going to have to figure out what they were quick, before anybody found out I didn¡¯t know them.


    ¡°Oh, sure, let me go get these for¡­ you¡­¡± Bonnie trailed off, her eyes skimming right off the list and onto me. ¡°Well, hello, I didn¡¯t see you down there.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re very¡­ tall!¡± I blurted out, and bit my tongue again. I wasn¡¯t sure what I¡¯d been about to say, ¡°cute¡± or ¡°pretty,¡± but whatever it was it was definitely not something to just say to a stranger.


    ¡°I am!¡± Bonnie agreed with a giggle. ¡°So, you¡¯re the new demi-human everyone around town is buzzing about?¡±


    ¡°E-everyone?¡± I stammered, feeling myself shrink towards the floor. It was true that I¡¯d noticed a lot of people staring at me during our trip, but had they also been talking about me too? With my head swimming, I looked to Bart, my only other anchor point at the moment, and he gave me an apologetic shrug.


    ¡°It¡¯s a small town. People like to gossip,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much about it, things will settle back down soon, long as you don¡¯t do anything to draw extra attention to yourself.¡±


    Shit, so that¡¯s what he¡¯d meant earlier. Well, I was thankful that I¡¯d still managed to heed his warning and, aside from that small bit of unpleasantness in the shoe store, not done anything to make myself worthy of more than a second glance. I just had to keep it up until we got back to the tavern, and I was golden.


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, eager to jump the conversation onto a new topic. ¡°You said ¡®demi-human?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Yes? Oh, that¡¯s right, you¡¯re a cat, you probably wouldn¡¯t have heard¡­¡± Bonnie said, turning around from pulling several long loaves of fragrant bread from the pair of warmers behind the counter and sliding them into a brown paper bag. ¡°But, that¡¯s been spreading amongst those of us down here, as a better word than beastkin, y¡¯know? They say it¡¯s to remind people that we¡¯re still people too.¡±


    I tried, and failed, to stop myself from glancing sideways up at Bart. He was at least looking appropriately guilty. Well, I hadn¡¯t known, so I couldn¡¯t have corrected him, but it was something to keep in mind for the future, and it definitely brought back some of that simmering resentment I¡¯d almost completely let go of.


    ¡°Well, anyway, I¡¯m Bonnie, it¡¯s nice to meet you¡­?¡±


    ¡°Uh, Samantha! But, call me Sam,¡± I said, and she gave me a warm smile and bowed her head slightly.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, Sam, feel free to stop by anytime,¡± she said, then lifting her head she passed the paper sack full of bread to Bart. ¡°Here¡¯s your loaves, Bart, will there be anything else?¡±


    ¡°Actually, yes,¡± Bart said, and I couldn¡¯t miss the surprise on Bonnie¡¯s face. I guessed Bart usually didn¡¯t stick around long, if he regularly made pick-ups for Felda like this. ¡°I¡¯ll take two pastries.¡±


    ¡°Oh, what kind?¡± Bonnie asked, and Bart cleared his throat and looked down to me.


    ¡°What kind do you like?¡± he asked, like I would know the answer instantly.


    ¡°Uuuh¡­¡± I peered down into the tilted viewing window of the glass countertop, at the neatly arranged rows of delicate pastries, some of them dusted with what looked like powdered sugar, some coated in chocolate, all of them absolutely mouthwatering. Literally, I realized, bringing a sleeve up to my lips.


    ¡°Something, uh, jelly-filled?¡± I ventured.


    ¡°Oh, I have plenty of danishes, over here.¡± Bonnie smiled, motioning to her left, at a shelf of circular pastries the size, and thickness, of a hockey puck. The centers were piled with a generous amount of delicious looking fruity jams, and then drizzled with a creamy looking icing. I felt my eyes go wide as I took them in and decided, yes, I definitely wanted a danish.


    Wait, danishes? Do they have a Denmark here?


    I decided that the danishes looked too delicious for me to question their existence for the time being. It was hard to decide which of the vibrantly-colored jams I wanted a taste of the most, but in the end the one that won out was a deep, midnight purple, and I pointed it out to Bonnie.


    ¡°That one,¡± I said, and she leaned closer to see my choice.


    ¡°Oh, the blueberry?¡± she asked, and I nodded my confirmation. Grabbing a pair of wooden tongs from a hook, she lifted one from the row, then stopped and glanced over to Bart. ¡°Will you be taking them with you?¡±


    ¡°We can sit a while,¡± Bart said, and I realized I¡¯d never gotten a proper look at the bakery, since the first thing I¡¯d seen upon entering had been Bonnie. Casting a quick glance around, the first thing I noticed was that there were indeed several small tables situated around the outer edges of the bakery. Tables that definitely had people at them, who had probably been watching me since I entered.


    Turning away from the tables, I peered behind the counter, where a wide, open doorway led into an even bigger kitchen area than the one that Felda had. I could see a large central table, even more coated in flour than Bonnie¡¯s apron, and one of presumably several ovens against the wall.


    ¡°Here you are,¡± Bonnie said, snapping my eyes from the back of her kitchen to the danish, resting on a little cloth napkin in the center of a wooden platter.


    ¡°T-thank you!¡± I said, gratefully accepting the plate with both hands. Bart had a plate of his own, and I spent several seconds looking up at him, wondering when he was going to move towards one of the tables, before I realized he was waiting for me to choose.


    That was an easy choice. I headed towards the back of the shop, further away from the wide windows, and dropped into a seat at the table tucked into the back corner. That meant I had two walls to my back, and could see the whole store from where I was sitting, and for some reason that made me feel much better.


    Bart sat down in an adjacent chair, setting his plate before him, but made no movement to start eating his danish. I¡¯d briefly entertained the idea of waiting a few minutes, maybe trying to strike up some casual conversation with Bart, but in the end I couldn¡¯t resist the intoxicating aroma of sweet baked goods that I was practically drowning in.


    I lifted the danish and took a massive bite.


    It wasn¡¯t anywhere near as affecting as when I ate the seafood earlier, but it was still one of the best pastries I¡¯d ever eaten. The crust itself was incredibly fluffy, with just the right amount of buttery taste worked into every layer. The cream drizzled across the top was also more tangy than I¡¯d expected, more like a cream cheese than a frosting. But the real star of the show was the blueberry jelly, of which there was way more in that first bite than I¡¯d been expecting. It was sweet, sugary and tart, with a hint of acidity, and despite not even being finished with my first one, I was already scheming of ways to get Bart to give me his.


    I slowed down my overzealous eating as I continued to work through the treat, but every time I looked up, Bart still hadn¡¯t even started on his. He had even pulled that book out of his pocket again, and was reading it, while the heavenly snack sat waiting on his plate, completely untouched.


    Finally, I finished every last crumb of my own danish and let out a satisfied sigh, using the cloth napkin to wipe my mouth clean.


    ¡°That was soooooo good¡­¡± I sighed, feeling a sense of deja vu. Then, I waited approximately two seconds before casually asking. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to eat yours?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Bart looked up from his book, like he¡¯d forgotten I was there. ¡°Oh, finished?¡±


    He noted my empty plate and then, amazingly, slid his towards me as well.


    I wanted to pounce on the surprise extra treat. I almost did, my hands itching to sink into that pillowy crust, my tongue longing for another taste of blueberry filling. But, as I leaned in for the kill, Bart¡¯s words from before suddenly floated through my mind.


    Useless¡­ Too aloof, too flighty, too easily distracted to support themselves¡­ contributes nothing and eats more than a growing child¡­


    I lowered my hands, which had been poised to grab the danish and lever let go, and instead set them on the sides of the plate, sliding it back across the table towards Bart.


    ¡°Uh, n-no, that¡¯s okay,¡± I said, and Bart looked up from his book again. ¡°It¡¯s really good, you should at least try it, I¡­ I insist.¡±


    Bart stared at me, and I stared back. We were still, basically, strangers. I didn¡¯t know anything about him, or his long and storied past, or why he was the way he was, and he didn¡¯t know anything about me, because I couldn¡¯t tell him anything about me, because the ¡°me¡± that existed in this world only came into being yesterday. I still wasn¡¯t entirely sure why, but for some reason the two of us had started off on the wrong foot. Bart may have started out unable to hide how little he already thought of me, but I hadn¡¯t exactly made it easy for him to get a better picture of me over the course of the day, either.


    So, maybe, I could make a real effort at starting over, and let him eat the damn danish.


    Hesitantly, Bart¡¯s hand came up, and he pinched the danish between his thumb and middle finger, lifting it up and taking a comparatively much more conservative bite. And I¡¯ll admit, as I watched the look of enjoyment that he failed to stop from spreading across his face, I felt a little jealous. But, the contented feeling I felt welling up in my chest was almost as good as getting a whole second danish to myself. I sat back in my chair and let my eyes, and my mind wander, while Bart slowly ate his pastry and read his book, and, for a time, I felt at peace with everything once again.


    And then, the bell jingled, the door to the bakery roughly pushed open, and in walked the biggest asshole I¡¯d ever meet.


    ¡ö ¡ö


    Morgan


    The Sea of Blades - Serday the 10th, First-Quarter of Summer, The Night of the Four Stars


    Morgan held her breath.


    Despite what she''d just told herself, that these pirates likely wouldn''t resort to senseless violence for no reason, she was still having trouble remaining calm. That may have been true for historical pirates, but she wasn''t in the past, she was¡­ somewhere else. Another world, where things were different, and fantastical creatures were real. Technically, she counted as one.


    She only hoped that, whatever the pirates had come for, they''d take it quickly and leave.


    ¡°Red Molly,¡± the captain of the fishing vessel said, with obvious disdain.


    ¡°Silas,¡± the woman in red, appropriately named Red Molly, replied with a sharp-toothed grin.


    The two captains stared each other down, every tense second that passed feeling like it took another year off Morgan''s lifespan. From her vantage point behind him, Morgan saw Silas¡¯ hand start to move, discreetly slipping into one of his pockets.


    Oh no, is he going for a weapon!?


    ¡°W-wait!¡± Morgan shouted, a second too late, as Silas drew something from his pocket and flung it towards Red Molly.


    All eyes turned towards her, including Red Molly''s, causing her to miss her grab for the little black pouch Silas had tossed at her. It hit her square in the face and bounced off, hitting the deck with a metallic clatter, and Red Molly reeled back, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.


    ¡°Ah, fuck!¡± Red Molly swore, hunching forward and hissing through her teeth.


    ¡°Let me see¡­¡± the bandage-wrapped figure said quietly, their voice flat but distinctly feminine.


    ¡°I''m fine, Poppy,¡± Red Molly said, her voice going nasal from her holding her nose. Poppy persisted, and Red Molly relented, dropping her hand. She leaned in for a closer look, and Morgan''s already hammering heart skipped a beat.


    They''re going to kill me!


    ¡°It''s not broken¡­¡± Poppy concluded after a few moments, and Red Molly sighed, rolling her magenta-tinged eyes.


    ¡°I know that!¡± she huffed, bending down and plucking the pouch off the deck. She loosened the string at the top, and Morgan saw her pull out and inspect several thick coins made of dark metal.


    Those look really heavy, Morgan observed, which only heightened her certainty that she was doomed.


    ¡°Well, I was going to wait until our business was concluded to ask, but¡­¡± Red Molly trailed off, handing the pouch off to Poppy. Which seemed odd to Morgan, as she didn''t appear to have any pockets, while Red Molly had plenty.


    ¡°Why is there a naked woman sitting on your deck, Silas,¡± Red Molly asked, fixing her stare on Morgan. She felt herself shrinking and pulled her knees tighter against her chest.


    ¡°Don''t rightly know, we were just about to figure that out before you lot showed up,¡± Silas said, casting a glance her way, but thankfully not staring like the other captain was.


    ¡°O-oh, I, uh¡­ I woke up in the ocean, a-and I didn''t know where I was, thought I was dreaming. I was chasing a¡­ a weird-looking fish, and I think it led me into your net on purpose¡­¡± Morgan stammered out, looking between the two of them and trying to ignore the other thirty or so people on the deck who were also listening to her.


    ¡°Really?¡± Red Molly hummed, arching one dark red eyebrow.


    ¡°Honestly, when I spotted your ship approachin¡¯, I thought she was one a¡¯ yours, and you were testing out another ¡®distraction¡¯ on me,¡± Silas said, scratching his head.


    ¡°No, never seen this gal before, but that ain¡¯t a half-bad idea¡­¡± Red Molly said, trailing off and rubbing her chin. ¡°Well, no matter! Poppy, better give her a check, make sure she didn¡¯t hit her head, or eat some poisonous urchins or somethin¡¯.¡±


    Poppy nodded her head, and padded across the deck on silent feet, approaching a much more confused than scared Morgan, who did her best not to stare as she knelt in front of her.


    ¡°Hold still,¡± Poppy ordered, her voice surprisingly soft and even, and Morgan complied, not jerking away when her unexpectedly-cold fingers came to rest on the sides of her head. She felt her poking through her hair, hair she hadn¡¯t realized she had, actually, and checking for any signs of injury around her scalp area.


    Is¡­ is she a doctor?


    Usually, doctors wouldn¡¯t willingly volunteer to serve on a pirate ship, but Morgan was rapidly starting to realize her many points of reference to real Earth history weren¡¯t going to be as helpful here as she¡¯d maybe hoped. She didn¡¯t know anything about the way pirates or doctors worked in this world, so maybe they were actually really common.


    Morgan let her mind fixate on those topics, so she could more easily ignore Poppy¡¯s increasingly thorough examination of her.


    ¡°Open your mouth,¡± Poppy said, and Morgan let out a strangled squeak before doing just that. Poppy leaned in for a closer look, and Morgan felt her train of thought go spiraling.


    Get ahold of yourself! she screamed inside her head. This is not the time!


    But, try as she might, she couldn¡¯t keep her eyes from wandering back to examine what little of Poppy¡¯s face she could see, or her nose from picking up her scent ¡ª like sea water, and a strange hint of antiseptic ¡ª or wondering if she and the captain were¡ª


    ¡°Give me your arm,¡± Poppy said, and Morgan shut her mouth with a snap and stuck her arm out, the movement stiff and robotic. Poppy hesitated, and Morgan got the impression she was staring at her, before she reached up and took her arm in one hand, turning it over and laying two of her fingers across the spot where her wrist met her palm.


    ¡°Your heart is beating very fast,¡± Poppy observed, and Morgan felt her throat close up again.


    Sharks can¡¯t blush, right? Humans are the only animals that can, but this world has way more than just humans in it.


    ¡°You have no reason to be afraid,¡± Poppy stated plainly, thankfully misdiagnosing the source of Morgan¡¯s elevated heart rate. ¡°Captain Molly won¡¯t harm you. She is only here to bother Captain Shortbranch, and to deliver his goods.¡±


    Huh. So his name was Silas Shortbranch? Under different circumstances, she might immediately begin to wonder if nature-y themed family names were a ubiquitous elf thing, or if it was just a coincidence, but she had bigger things to think about at the moment.


    ¡°May I draw some of your blood?¡± Poppy asked, and Morgan jumped. She nodded, as she didn¡¯t see anything wrong with that, but she wondered where on her body Poppy was keeping whatever equipment she was going to use to safely draw, and store, her blood for analysis.


    She got her answer when Poppy leaned down to the outstretched arm they still held, and opened her mouth, revealing an array of needle-sharp teeth. Once again, Morgan squeaked like a field mouse as Poppy¡¯s mouth closed around her wrist, and though she felt some momentary discomfort, there was no pain from the tiny teeth. Her head swam, and not just from the sudden drop in blood pressure she knew she was probably experiencing.


    A-a-a vampire?


    After only a short moment, Poppy¡¯s lips left her skin, and she looked up. Her tongue, which was a pale pink color and came to a sudden forked point, quickly flicked across her lips, ensuring there was no blood left behind.


    ¡°Mmm¡­ No poisons or toxins I can detect,¡± Poppy mused, while her tail appeared over her shoulder. The blunt tip widened, and opened, revealing a more circular copy of her mouth, complete with even more sharp teeth. A few drops of clear, cool fluid dripped from the second mouth onto the circular bite marks on her wrist, and Poppy used two fingers to spread it before using a fresh roll of cloth gauze to wrap the wound, tying it tight.


    No. Not a vampire. A leech!


    ¡°So, you really were tricked into a net by a fish?¡± Poppy asked.


    ¡°Y-y-yeah,¡± Morgan replied, taking her arm back and using it to squeeze her knees tighter, tucking her chin between them.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Poppy hummed, rising to her feet. ¡°Well, I hope you are more careful in the future.¡±


    ¡°I-I will be!¡± Morgan called after her, then groaned internally. She sounded so desperate!


    Eager to distract herself from that whole debacle, she took in the state of affairs on the ship and what had changed since she¡¯d been distracted by the impromptu checkup.


    Several crates were in the process of being ferried over from Molly¡¯s ship to Silas¡¯, the first of which was being hauled up with the assistance of the cranes as Morgan watched. The crate was set down on the deck and at Silas¡¯s instruction, two crew members with crowbars set to work prying the lid off. Morgan couldn¡¯t see what was inside, until Silas reached in with a laugh, and held up a large glass bottle filled with a dark red liquid.


    ¡°Ha ha, Molly, you despicable sea witch you!¡± Silas exclaimed, turning the bottle in his hands and inspecting it. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you actually managed it!¡±


    ¡°What is it, Captain?¡± one of the sailors asked, moving to peer over Silas¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Three crates of Primrose Vintage,¡± Silas explained, holding the bottle¡¯s top towards the curious fisherman. ¡°Made from only the finest winter blackberries, in the heart of the Empire.¡±


    ¡°Cor,¡± another sailor said, also wandering close for a look. ¡°That stuff goes for five silver crescents a bottle back on the mainland. How much did you give ¡®er, cap?¡±


    ¡°Three iron ten-pieces a crate, and worth every bit of it,¡± Silas said, bringing the bottle to his lips and kissing it. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve outdone yourself this time, Molly.¡±


    ¡°What can I say, I live to please,¡± Molly said, adopting a casual pose against the ship¡¯s railing, taking another bite of her half-eaten fruit, sending more juices down her chin and staining her cocky grin scarlet. And also her shirt, which Morgan assumed was the reason she wore so much black.


    ¡°Calloway,¡± Silas snapped, one of the sailors jumping to attention and saluting.


    ¡°Aye, cap¡¯n?¡±


    ¡°Go on down to the hold, bundle up one of those giant Red Tuna we picked up, and ten of those Fencer Crabs,¡± Silas said, and the sailor named Calloway bustled off to complete his orders. Turning to Molly and the arrayed crew of pirates, who were looking suddenly a bit less intimidating and a lot more amicable, he grinned. ¡°I want you and your crew eatin¡¯ like kings tonight.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯d better have more for us than a tuna and some dinky little crabs,¡± Molly said, grinning back, then jerked her head in the direction of the ship. ¡°I¡¯m sure Balthazar will be delighted to hear, though. He¡¯s got a new recipe for crab cakes he¡¯s been dying to try out.¡±


    Huh.


    By now, Morgan¡¯s heart rate had completely settled, and she¡¯d allowed herself to just sit and casually observe the events unfolding in front of her like she was simply watching the world¡¯s most immersive movie.


    So, the pirates don¡¯t just attack everyone indiscriminately, they have people they¡¯re on friendly terms with. And, these pirates at least, have a side hustle for smuggling highly-prized goods out of this so-called Empire. I can only imagine the cost of acquiring these crates legitimately is much higher, and probably includes additional taxes or fees, making this a much more desirable option for ships looking to flip the wares at a profit.


    ¡°How did you get them?¡± Morgan found herself asking aloud, before she could stop herself. When Red Molly, who looked like she¡¯d forgotten she was there, turned towards her, she cleared her throat and clarified. ¡°The crates, I mean, how did you get them?¡±


    A few of the other pirates shared a chuckle at the question, but Red Molly looked like she was more than happy to answer what, in retrospect, was a bit of a silly question.


    ¡°We took them, of course!¡± Red Molly exclaimed, throwing her arms wide, and Morgan saw Poppy behind her bringing one hand to her hidden face in an obvious gesture of exasperation. ¡°From a big fat-bellied schooner that thought it could sneak past us through a fog bank in the night. I tell you, our old friend Admiral Aurelio was not pleased to see me treading upon his decks again!¡±


    ¡°You had to start her off, didn¡¯t you?¡± Silas grumbled good-naturedly when Molly paused to take a breath. Morgan got the impression that it wasn¡¯t particularly hard to get Red Molly started.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t see you coming, then?¡± Morgan asked, feeling a bit like a child in the library, asking for the story to continue.


    ¡°Nope, not thanks to our secret weapon here,¡± Molly said, using an arm to snag Poppy around the shoulders, the latter having tried to quietly slip away before, presumably, this exact thing could happen. ¡°Don¡¯t matter how many guards and lookouts a ship has, they never see Poppy comin¡¯ until it¡¯s too late. And once they¡¯re all droolin¡¯ onto their pristine red shirts, we can pull right up aside ¡®em and take the ship, free as you please.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Morgan breathed, her eyes moving from Molly to the thoroughly embarrassed-looking Poppy, who was trying to pull her hood even further down over her face. ¡°That¡¯s impressive. Do you knock them out by just dropping their blood pressure until they lose consciousness, or do you have some kind of natural anesthetic?¡±


    Morgan thought it was a fairly innocuous question, but the way everyone was looking at her now made her think twice. The only person who didn¡¯t seem befuddled by her question was Poppy, who lifted her head, pushing her hood up and letting Morgan get a look at her eyes. Her pupils and sclera were both black, with the only bit of color to her eyes being the corneas, which were a pale pink.


    ¡°I derive a fast acting sleeping agent from my natural toxins and extracts from the Serasflower,¡± Poppy explained, once again moving her tail and draping it over her shoulder. ¡°I can store several doses in special sacs in my tail, and deploy them at will with a single bite.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Morgan said, nodding her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what a Serasflower is, but I assume it¡¯s what induces unconsciousness, and with your toxins acting as a vasodilator, it would allow the mixture to circulate that much faster¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s correct!¡± Poppy exclaimed, the calm, emotionless mask that was her face breaking in an instant, the small smile that had come to her face allowing her little teeth to peek out again. ¡°At first, I used toxins from the skin of Azure Nightmare frogs, but keeping specimens alive aboard the ship proved difficult, and the potency was less than predictable.¡±


    Wow, she was really going now. Morgan, of course, soaked up every word like the thirsty sponge she was.


    ¡°So the Serasflowers were less effective, but easier to cultivate?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right! They require only regular watering, a perch with access to regular amounts of moonlight, and decently enriched soil.¡±


    ¡°I assume it also made the agent less likely to cause adverse effects in case of accidental overdose?¡± Morgan asked, and Poppy nodded so hard her hood bounced


    ¡°Exactly!¡± Poppy confirmed. ¡°The old formula could easily stop the heart if I miscalculated the weight of my targets, but with¡­ the new batch, I¡­ uhm¡­¡±


    Then, like an engine running out of steam, she petered out and came to a stop. Realizing how worked up she''d gotten, she schooled their expression and reached for the hem of her hood. But, before she could hide their face again, Morgan saw that her cheeks had taken on a pinkish hue, similar to the color of her eyes. She wasn¡¯t sure, at first, if it were really there, or just a trick of the light, but the way Poppy was acting, ducking out from under Molly¡¯s arm and moving to the opposite end of the ship to stand against the railing, she assumed she¡¯d seen correctly.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Red Molly said, looking at Morgan with a new look now, a strange, hungry gleam in her eyes. ¡°Another seadweller scholar, huh? What are the chances of that?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah, something like that,¡± Morgan said with a modest shrug. ¡°My parents they¡­ really pushed me to perform well, uh, in my schooling. Uh, but not that kind of schooling.¡±


    Morgan couldn¡¯t help but snicker at her own bad joke, which was fine, since nobody else laughed at it. She thought she saw Poppy¡¯s shoulders hitching under her cloak in the distance, but that was probably just a coincidence.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Red Molly said, and tossed the last palm-sized bite of the red fruit into her mouth, chewing it deliberately.


    ¡°Well,¡± she spoke, with her mouth still full. ¡°¡®Bout time we headed out. Tide¡¯s calling, and all that!¡±


    Huh?


    Morgan blinked, and watched on as Red Molly, after swallowing the fruit, brought two fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle. In a flurry of movement, the pirates departed, filing back down the ladder to their waiting boat. Poppy¡¯s head turned, casting one more glance in Morgan¡¯s direction, before she descended as well, leaving Molly the last to leave. She shared a few quiet words with Silas before stalking towards the ladder, every step she took causing her boots to let out sharp staccato thuds against the hard wooden surface of the deck.


    Swinging herself over the edge, Red Molly stepped down the ladder, pausing when only her shoulders and head were still visible. Her magenta eyes met Morgan¡¯s, and she held the gaze for several seconds, and Morgan wondered if she had something more to say. But, all she did was give her a quick wink, and then she was gone. Morgan sat there, staring at the empty space where she¡¯d been, and then watched as the dark shape of the pirate ship began to move, pulling away from the fishing vessel and starting to drift off towards its next destination, wherever that happened to be.


    The ship had almost completely disappeared into the night before Silas appeared at Morgan¡¯s side, his voice startling her out of her daze.


    ¡°You know,¡± he began, and Morgan looked up at him from her still seated position. ¡°If you wait much longer, you¡¯re gona have a harder time catchin¡¯ up to ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Morgan asked, which only caused Silas to give her a tired half smile and shake his head.


    ¡°Well, jus¡¯ that you seemed pretty fascinated there, from the moment Molly an¡¯ her crew came aboard, ¡®til the moment they left,¡± Silas explained.


    Really? Morgan just thought she¡¯d seemed scared of them. But, she supposed, she had been fervently paying attention to everything that the charismatic captain had said and done since she¡¯d arrived, that was true.


    ¡°Y-yeah, well¡­ it just seems like they live very exciting lives, you know?¡± Morgan said, and Silas nodded again.


    ¡°Aye, that they do. Dangerous, an¡¯ more likely to be cut short early than the rest of us, but exciting lives nonetheless,¡± Silas agreed. ¡°And, somethin¡¯ tells me, the kind of life you wish you led?¡±


    Morgan furrowed her brow and tucked her chin between her knees, thinking it over. That wasn¡¯t true, was it? She¡¯d been perfectly fine with her life the way it was before she woke up in the middle of the ocean as a shark person. She had excelled academically, and was on course for one of the best colleges in her state, one her parents had personally picked out for her. And while it was true that she enjoyed reading stories about people who led dangerous, exciting lives, that wasn¡¯t just because she secretly longed to do those things herself, was it?


    Well, I guess if I ever get to see Dr. Adams again, I could ask him.


    ¡°Even if I wanted to,¡± Morgan said, sighing. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t want me. I¡¯m just smart, and a lot of what I know isn¡¯t even going to be practical or useful. I don¡¯t know the first thing about sailing a ship, and I¡¯m too small and weak to do even heavy lifting¡­¡±


    She was spiraling, she knew, but it was better to be realistic than entertain some fanciful dream of running off and becoming a fantasy pirate.


    ¡°Really?¡± Silas said, disbelief evident in his tone. ¡°Well, if you don¡¯t mind my sayin¡¯ so, you look plenty strong to me. If you¡¯re small, then I¡¯d shudder to think what a big one of your kind looks like.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Morgan asked, looking up at Silas again. Then, for the first time, she realized she didn¡¯t really have to look up that far when she did, despite her being seated and him standing.


    With her heart starting to beat faster, Morgan, also for the first time, stood up. And up. And up.


    ¡°Woah¡­¡± she whispered to herself, finding that she stood a head taller than Silas, and head and shoulders above the rest of his crew, who were now looking up at her. A sight she didn¡¯t usually get to see, outside of meeting much younger children, since back on Earth she had only been a single inch above five feet. But now, she was sure she¡¯d smashed all the way past six feet to maybe six and a half.


    Is this how he always felt?


    Shaking her head to prevent herself from getting fixated on any more people who she¡¯d left behind on Earth, she clenched her fists, marveling at the strength she couldn¡¯t believe she hadn¡¯t noticed in them until now.


    ¡°Listen,¡± Silas spoke again, thankfully having half turned himself away from her when she¡¯d stood up. ¡°I don¡¯t know your circumstances. I don¡¯t know how far you are from your home. Tides, I don¡¯t even know your name. You say it was a fish you chased into our nets, and I believe ya, but¡­ I have a feelin¡¯, if you just slink back into the water and head back the way you came from, it won¡¯t be long before you¡¯re chasin¡¯ another fish into another net. So, maybe, think about what you really want do with your life goin¡¯ forward, yeah?¡±


    What she wanted to do with her life, huh?


    For the longest time, the only thing she could remember wanting was to do well in school, to do well in college, to go on to land a high powered, successful job, like her parents both had. But, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if that wasn¡¯t just what they wanted for her. Did she want to risk her life on a creaky old sailing ship, pledged to a crew of pirates, made to do morally and ethically-dubious acts at the behest of a captain who seemed more than a little off-balance.


    She didn¡¯t know, but, maybe, that was the point.


    Morgan hadn¡¯t fully given up on the idea that all of this might still be some kind of dream. But, she figured, whether it turned out to be a dream, or truly some kind of second life, a second chance, to live the way she wanted to, to actually learn how she wanted to live for herself, she was determined to make it a good life.


    And, she mused, as she felt her wrist sting slightly from where it had been bitten, there was one thing she did know for certain. She wanted to see Poppy again. She wanted to hear what it was like to daringly sneak aboard a ship all alone, she wanted to hear her gush about poisons and toxins, and she really wanted to see her blush some more.


    ¡°C-captain Silas,¡± Morgan said, willing her voice to steady.


    ¡°Aye, lass?¡± Silas said, crossing his arms and smirking up at her.


    ¡°Thank you, for pulling me out of the water,¡± Morgan said, taking a deep breath. ¡°The next time you see me, I¡¯m going to be a member of Red Molly¡¯s crew.¡±


    ¡°That so?¡± Silas laughed, jerking his head. Morgan peered out into the night, and could only just barely make out the impression of Molly¡¯s ship on the water in the distance. ¡°Well, you¡¯d better get after ¡®em then!¡±


    Morgan nodded, and, with a running start, leapt off the deck of the fishing vessel and began swimming as fast as she could towards the horizon.

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.4

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 4


    ¡ö


    At the sound of the bell above the door jangling, I looked up from my cozy spot in the corner of Bonnie¡¯s bakery to see a young man enter.


    I couldn¡¯t tell what it was about him, at first, that immediately set me off. He looked like a pretty plain guy in his early twenties, if that plain guy was on his way to a ren faire.


    It wasn''t his haircut, a sandy blond crop that was cut short everywhere except the front, and parted perfectly down the middle so it fell just above his eyes. It wasn''t his outfit; I¡¯d seen several others like it while walking the main street with Bart. His clothes were much more vibrantly colored than most of the others I''d seen so far though, consisting of a pair of dark blue pants and a short, bright blue tunic on top of a second shirt with longer sleeves that flared out slightly before cinching tight around his wrists. I saw as he lowered his arm that they were partially slit, showing a bit of golden fabric on the inside. Even his boots were nicer, made of white leather with large gold buttons that caught the light coming in from the open door. Not even that bothered me though, especially since the amazing pair of sandals I¡¯d just been gifted were much cooler.


    No, the thing that immediately set me off, I realized, was his expression. As he entered, his face had scrunched up into a scowl, like he''d just stepped in something unpleasant, and anyone who could make a face like that in a place that smelled as good as Bonnie¡¯ bakery did was definitely suspicious, at the very least.


    As he moved from the doorway, I saw that he was flanked on either side by two more figures that both looked equally as displeased to be entering the bakery as he was.


    The first, standing to the man''s left, was tall, but in a way that made him look like someone had grabbed the top of his head and just stretched him out, leaving his whole frame long and gangly. His hair was blond as well, so pale it was almost white, and swept back dramatically into a high ponytail. He wore the same fancier style of clothes as the first man, only his were a pale purple rather than blue, and had a faint pattern of shells stitched into the fabric.


    The third figure, hovering at the first man''s right side, was shorter than the other two, and a fair bit wider. His hair was pitch black and piled high atop his forehead into, amazingly, a pompadour. Like the others, his clothes were obviously of a more expensive cut, his overly-showy shirt colored a bright yellow that seared the eyes, and in addition, he sported what I thought was a ridiculous amount of jewelry for just walking around town in. He had a necklace of gold chains braided together around his neck, and he sported at least six rings across both hands, which were resting on his belt as he swaggered after his companions. Even his shoes screamed ¡°Too much,¡± being ankle high, black, and coming to little curled points.


    Ah, I mused to myself, watching the three approach the counter. So this''ll be the nobility then. Or, at least their kids.


    Bart must have noticed the way the mood in the bakery shifted, as I wasn''t the only person who was watching the trio in wary silence. He turned in his chair, and when he caught sight of the small group, I heard him swear under his breath, which only confirmed my feelings that something bad was about to go down.


    ¡°Ah-hem,¡± the first man said, not even bothering to fake clearing his throat. Bonnie, who''d already been looking directly at him, put on what must have been her best customer service smile, and inclined her head forward.


    ¡°What can I do for you today, my lord?¡± she asked, and I felt myself gag at the prospect of having to talk to anyone like that.


    ¡°I''m here to pick up a delivery. For my father,¡± the man in blue said, pulling a small scroll from his pocket and thrusting it towards Bonnie. The rabbit woman, still smiling, took the scroll and unrolled it, quickly scanning it before letting it snap closed again.


    ¡°Ah, yes, the pastries and rosemary loaves, they''re just coming out of the oven now, if you''ll wait just a moment,¡± Bonnie said, handing the scroll back across the counter.


    ¡°Tssk.¡± The man made a noise of irritation, and made no effort to hide it as he tucked the scroll back into his pocket. Bonnie, likewise, made no acknowledgment of his naked rudeness.


    ¡°Very well, hurry up then,¡± he said, waving his hand. Bonnie nodded her head again and swiftly backed into the kitchen.


    ¡°Honestly,¡± the man in blue started, well before Bonnie could have possibly gotten out of earshot. ¡°I don¡¯t know why my father insists on purchasing his baked goods from this place.¡±


    What?


    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine,¡± the taller man said, fanning the air with one of his ludicrously-wide sleeves. ¡°Especially when there are so many others to choose from. Sandria¡¯s caters to a far more, mmm, refined clientele, and is much closer to your home. I can¡¯t believe he makes you come all this way every other day just for bread and some simple pastries. I mean, we¡¯re practically at the docks!¡±


    What?!


    ¡°At least it doesn¡¯t reek of fish in here,¡± the shorter man spoke up, having bent forward and started squinting appraisingly at the pastries inside the display case. ¡°But, I can¡¯t imagine eating anything from this place, you know. With one of them working here. Can you imagine finding fur in your sweets?¡±


    Okay that¡¯s it!


    I was out of my chair before I knew it, and I felt Bart¡¯s hand make a grab for, and miss, my shoulder as I shot past him, stomping towards the trio with furious determination in every step.


    ¡°Yes, well, personally, I would never¡ª¡± the man in blue was saying, before I cut him off with a shout.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I barked, making the three men jump and spin around to face me. ¡°What¡¯s your problem, huh?¡±


    The three of them stared at me, stunned by my outburst. The man in blue was the first to recover, his shocked face settling into a look of smug derision.


    ¡°So, the rumors are true! There¡¯s a stray catkin running around Rower¡¯s Rest,¡± he said, and I rolled my eyes.


    Seriously, how were there already rumors about me, and how did they spread that far? I¡¯d only been outside for, what, an hour? Hour and a half? I guessed when people didn¡¯t have TV, or even radio, for entertainment, sharing gossip was the closest thing to having conversations around the water cooler.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m a cat, big deal, don¡¯t dodge the question!¡± I snapped, pointing a finger up at him. ¡°Where do you get off, coming in here and saying stuff like that?¡±


    By now, Bonnie had returned from the back, a steaming bundle wrapped in tan parchment in her arms. She must have heard my shouting; hell, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if people on the streets could hear me, I was that mad.


    ¡°Sam, it¡¯s alright,¡± she said to me, then held out the delicious smelling package to the man in blue. ¡°Here¡¯s your order, my lord, I¡¯m sorry for the wait.¡±


    Accepting the package without so much as a ¡°Thank you,¡± the man sniffed haughtily and turned away from me to address Bonnie directly.


    ¡°See to it that you¡¯re more punctual in the future. And maybe think before letting urchins into your establishment,¡± he said, and I felt my hands curl into tiny fists at my side. Turning back to me, the man continued, heedless of the storm of fury brewing inside me. ¡°As for you¡­ well, you¡¯re obviously new in town, so let me educate you, since you¡¯re obviously not capable of recognizing when you¡¯re addressing those of higher standing than yourself.¡±


    God, I wanted to punch him. I wanted to punch him so much. I narrowed my eyes as he motioned to his left, where the taller man was still openly gaping at me.


    ¡°This is Laurence O¡¯toole, son of the harbormaster and novice mage of the Royal Torgardian Academy,¡± the man said, and his companion seemed to recover himself, snapping his mouth shut and lifting his chin high.


    ¡°This,¡± he continued, sweeping his hand to the right and indicating the shorter man, who was squinting at me even still, ¡°is Roberto De Campo, son of the head of the Merchant¡¯s Guild.¡±


    ¡°¡®Lo,¡± the short man said, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smile, showing off a single golden tooth twinkling between the rest.


    ¡°And I,¡± the man in blue finished with a flourish, touching his hand to his chest, ¡°am Bentley Baker-Hall, and I shouldn¡¯t think I need to tell you what that makes me.¡±


    Bentley? Like the car? With a snort, I felt part of my anger melt into disbelief, and crossed my arms.


    ¡°An asshole?¡± I ventured, and Bentley¡¯s face paled, along with those of his two toadies. I glanced at Bonnie out of the corner of my eye and found that she, similarly, looked shocked and mortified.


    ¡°You¡­¡± Bentley said, taking a step forward, and reminding me that I was no longer over six feet tall, and without the luxury to run my mouth that that afforded. His free hand shot out and closed around the collar of my borrowed shirt, pulling me forward until I was standing on the tips of my toes, and his face was inches from mine. ¡°Now see here, boy! Nobody insults me directly to my face and gets away with it! My father will hear of this!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not scared of you or your dad, whoever he is!¡± I spat back, and I genuinely think that if he hadn¡¯t been carrying a load of piping-hot bread in his other hand, he would have tried to hit me. Which would have been all the excuse I needed.


    But, before either of us could give the other the final push we needed to resort to violence, a shadow fell over us both.


    ¡°Put her down,¡± Bart¡¯s said, a dangerous edge to his that I had never heard before, that sent chills down my spine.


    ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t our favorite mysterious foreigner, Bart,¡± Bentley said, looking over my head with evident disdain at the man who was no doubt looming behind me. He had lowered me slightly, so that I was no longer being almost lifted off the ground, but he still held tight onto the front of my shirt. ¡°This doesn¡¯t concern you, old man, I¡¯m simply dealing with a vagrant who has wandered into our fair town. A beggar, or a thief more likely, I think we¡¯ll leave it for the town guards to sort out¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s with me,¡± Bart said, and once again Bentley¡¯s eyes snapped from me up to him.


    ¡°I said butt out, you salty old¡­ she?¡±


    I saw the moment Bentley¡¯s train of thought ground to a halt, and when his eyes dropped back down to me, they were different, wide and searching. I watched him study my face for several seconds, before his eyes flicked downward. To where his fist was still bunched in the loose fabric of my shirt, stretching it out. He just as quickly raised his eyes again, but whatever he¡¯d seen had been enough, as his cheeks and the tips of his ears quickly turned pink.


    I felt my own eyes go wide, and drew my fist back.


    ¡°Oh, you fucking¡ª!¡± was as far as I got. Bentley had yanked his hand away as though he¡¯d been burned, and held it up, palm facing outward, the supremely-embarrassed look on his face becoming one of shocked terror as I swung my fist towards him.


    Thankfully, for all of us, Bart¡¯s much more massive hand closed around my wrist, and caught it before the strike could land.


    Silence reigned inside the bakery for several long heartbeats. I glowered up at Bentley, who continued backing away until he bumped into his two friends, who also had taken several steps backwards, away from Bart and I.


    ¡°Bentley,¡± Bart spoke, the first one to break the silence. ¡°Leave.¡±


    ¡°T-that¡¯s Lord Baker-Hall to you, and nobody tells me¡ª¡± Bentley tried to protest.


    ¡°I said leave!¡± Bart roared, and the three men scrambled over themselves to reach the door first. Laurence was the winner of that particular race, and yanked the handle open, tumbling out into the street with Roberto hot on his heels. Bentley paused, standing in the threshold, and cast an angry glance back at both of us.


    ¡°My father will hear of this!¡± he shouted one last time before he followed after his companions, the bell above the door jangling one more time.


    Once again, the bakery was blanketed in tense silence, the only sounds the muffled street noise that managed to leak in from outside. The few other customers that had also been inside eating were either staring at the door, each other, or me.


    Slowly, Bart¡¯s iron grip relaxed, and his fingers uncurled from my wrist. I pulled my arm to my chest, rubbing the feeling back into it with my other hand.


    ¡°Pfft¡­¡± I scoffed at the door, and the fleeing trio, before turning around to face Bart, who was looking down at me, his eyes hooded and his brow deeply furrowed.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t need your help,¡± was the first thing I said, and was maybe a little unkind.


    ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± Bart asked in response, in that way he did where he just cut straight to whatever point he wanted to reach without bothering to walk the conversation there naturally.


    ¡°Me?!¡± I spluttered, feeling the anger that hadn¡¯t fully subsided start to build again. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? You¡¯re not going to tell me you couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying!¡±


    Bart took several seconds to answer, which I took to mean he had been considering exactly that.


    ¡°Of course I could hear,¡± Bart said finally. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter. It was just words.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say, they weren¡¯t insulting you,¡± I huffed, turning to Bonnie, who was just looking lost. ¡°That guy said he comes in here a lot to pick up orders, does he always talk like that?¡±


    Bonnie blinked, very clearly looking from me to Bart before answering.


    ¡°Not¡­ every time. When he¡¯s alone he usually keeps quiet, sometimes he¡¯s just complaining about something else, but it¡¯s worse when it¡¯s all three of them¡­ And I have caught him staring at my ears. And my tail,¡± Bonnie explained. Well, that wasn¡¯t as bad as what I just caught him staring at, but it was still extremely rude. ¡°But it¡¯s alright, Sam, honestly¡­¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not alright!¡± I protested. ¡°Just because someone¡¯s popular or good looking or their parents have money, doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re better than everyone, and it definitely doesn¡¯t mean they get to do and say whatever they want!¡±


    Okay, I was, maybe, projecting a little bit of my own past experiences with bullies of my own onto the situation, but I was still more concerned about Bonnie, and whoever else those three regularly abused.


    ¡°That¡¯s just the way things are here,¡± Bart sighed, and I snapped my gaze back to him. His gaze was still hard, but he looked more tired than anything, which only made me more angry.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean it has to stay that way,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°You might be used to it, but I don¡¯t have to be, if that guy ever tries to talk to me like that, I¡¯ll¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll do nothing,¡± Bart cut me off, his tone deathly serious, both his hands flashing out and landing on my shoulders, dwarfing them completely. ¡°That ¡®guy¡¯ is not just the son of some minor noble, he is not someone you can insult or ignore, and certainly not someone you can start a fight with.¡±


    ¡°And what makes him so special?¡± I asked, not that I cared.


    ¡°He is the son of Maxwell Baker-Hall,¡± Bart said, sounding like he was delivering grave news of my impending execution. ¡°The Lord Mayor of Rower¡¯s Rest.¡±


    I stared up at Bart for several seconds. He obviously expected me to react, most likely with regret, or fear, upon learning just who I¡¯d insulted and nearly sucker punched. Instead, I just rolled my eyes.


    ¡°So what?¡± I scoffed, and Bart¡¯s brow furrowed even more. ¡°You make it sound like he¡¯s a prince or something. Which, even if he was, wouldn¡¯t make what he does okay.¡±


    I ducked out from under Bart¡¯s hands, shrugging my shoulders and brushing them off.


    ¡°Pff, geez, the mayor¡¯s son,¡± I muttered, mostly to myself. It was ridiculous, the amount of deference Bart expected me to show to just some guy because his dad ran the town. Everything I¡¯d seen of the fishing village, which admittedly wasn¡¯t much, led me to believe he had to be at least a somewhat reasonable guy, and his kid was just a spoiled brat. Now, if the mayor himself turned out to be a racist jerk too, then I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d¡­


    I couldn¡¯t think that far ahead, but either way, what I did was still none of Bart¡¯s business.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, a particularly nasty thought occurring to me. The part of me that had shared the danish with Bart wanted me to just shut up and leave, but the part of me that was so utterly pissed off at him was louder. ¡°What if those three came into the tavern and talked about Felda like that?¡±


    Like he¡¯d been struck by lightning, Bart¡¯s back straightened, and he stood there stiffly, glowering down at me. His jaw was working again.


    ¡°Even if they did, Felda is a grown woman, and knows how to take care of herself,¡± Bart said, slowly and carefully forcing every word out between his teeth. ¡°And, I still wouldn¡¯t fly off the handle, like you did.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯d still say something, right?¡± I asked, baiting him.


    Don¡¯t, I thought. Just let it go.


    Bart narrowed his eyes at me. Gruff, stubborn jackass that he was, he was smart, and he probably saw what I was doing.


    ¡°I get your point,¡± Bart said, lowering his voice. ¡°We should leave. You¡¯ve caused enough trouble for one day.¡±


    I¡¯ve caused enough trouble?! I mentally gasped. Nah, fuck him.


    ¡°So you would!¡± I snapped, pouncing on the answer he¡¯d implicitly given, taking a step forward. He didn¡¯t move, so I reached up, jabbing a finger into his chest.


    ¡°Well why didn¡¯t you say anything here, huh?¡± I asked, despite knowing no good would come from asking, nor would asking the follow-up question, but I continued, despite myself. ¡°Was it okay for them to say all that because Bonnie¡¯s a beastkin?¡±


    And I¡¯d said it. If it were possible, Bart went even more rigid. I wasn¡¯t sure if I actually believed that was the way Bart felt, or if I just wanted to lash out at him for trying to reprimand me for standing up to those three.


    ¡°Sam¡­¡± Bonnie¡¯s quiet voice broke the silence, and I turned my head, finding her looking decidedly more upset than she¡¯d been after the trio had departed. ¡°I think you two should leave. Please, you¡¯re disturbing the other customers.¡±


    Feeling hot shame well up in my gut, and with my eyes starting to prickle again, I turned on my heels and ran for the door.


    ¡°Sam, wait for me!¡± I heard Bart call.


    ¡°Bite me!¡± I shouted back at him, wrenching the door open, and after almost bowling over one of the several people gathered in front of it, I took off across the street, weaving and ducking my way through the foot traffic while I could still see.


    I found the Crooked Hook easily, my feet hammering heavy impacts on the wooden planks of the docks as I stomped my way towards the door.


    I tugged the door open and slipped inside, trying not to let it slam shut behind me. I found Felda in the process of removing the chairs from the tops of the tables, and she smiled as she saw me, but her expression quickly melted into one of concern.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re back, how was¡­ Sam? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    She set down the chair she¡¯d been holding, catching me as I tried to cross the floor, heading for the set of stairs behind the bar.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I said, biting my lower lip. The last thing I needed at that moment was someone being kind to me.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Bart?¡± Felda asked, noting that he hadn¡¯t returned with me.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± I said, too harshly, and Felda¡¯s mouth set itself into a thin line.


    ¡°That bad, huh?¡± she asked, full of understanding. ¡°Come on, sit down, I¡¯ll get you¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I snapped, clenching my hands into fists. I didn¡¯t want any more help from anyone at that moment, and I definitely didn¡¯t deserve any more delicious, free food, after what I¡¯d just been through, and what I¡¯d just done. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m just tried¡­ I just need to¡­ lie down for a bit¡­¡±


    Felda, taken aback by my outburst, nodded and stood up from where she¡¯d been kneeling in front of me, giving me space.


    ¡°Alright, Sam,¡± Felda said, nodding towards the stairs. ¡°You go ahead and rest. I¡¯ll¡­ bring you some water, in a bit.¡±


    I was about to tell her I didn¡¯t need that either, but I bit it back, and resumed my march towards the stairs. I ascended them at a rapid pace and, showing as much care as I could to it, opened the door to Felda¡¯s bedroom and slipped inside. I found that the bed had been made, and added the guilt I felt at messing it up again onto the heaping pile I was already carrying. I pulled back the blankets and slipped under them, grabbing one of Felda¡¯s pillows and squeezing it against my chest.


    ¡ö


    I hadn¡¯t meant to actually fall asleep, but I nonetheless found myself blinking my eyes open, some number of hours later. I was groggy, and confused, filled with that unique disorientation you only felt after waking up from the midday nap on the couch, only to find the sun had set and you had no clue what time it was. Only, for me, that included not even knowing what planet I was on.


    Absently, I reached up and felt around the side of my head, finding a large, furry cat ear.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I sighed to myself. ¡°Still here, still a cat girl.¡±


    With a groan, I sat upright. Looking around the dim room, the first thing I found was the promised glass of water that Felda must have brought at some point. Rubbing at the still raw feeling skin under my eyes, I scooped up the glass and greedily gulped it down.


    I spent several seconds looking for a lamp or something, before I remembered that, in all likelihood, people in this world relied on things like candles and lanterns to see after the sun went down. Not that I really needed either, since within seconds my eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, and I was suddenly seeing in almost perfect clarity. The colors were a little washed out, but it was almost as if it wasn¡¯t dark at all, and I felt myself smirk at the discovery.


    ¡°Right. Cat eyes,¡± I muttered, tugging the heavy covers back and sliding out of the bed. I found my sandals, discarded with haste before I¡¯d collapsed, waiting for me, and quickly strapped them back on.


    I did my best to remake the bed while I thought about the confrontation at the bakery, and what I wanted to do about it. Not about Bentley and his two goons, but about Bart, and Bonnie.


    Although, thinking about Bentley¡­


    ¡°He did say that guy was a ¡®mage,¡¯ huh?¡± I said to myself while I tucked the edges of the blankets under the mattress.


    I¡¯d been too angry at the time to react, but between being introduced to a mage, and then the druid Bart had mentioned earlier, I had no choice but to conclude that magic was a thing in this world. That¡­ somewhat buoyed my spirits, as I wondered about the prospects of learning to do magic. I really hoped there weren¡¯t some dumb conditions to it though, like, only nobles and civil servants could learn magic or something. In either case, it probably wasn¡¯t free, and I was still completely broke, and without a way of fixing that any time soon.


    ¡°Agh!¡± I shook my head. That wasn¡¯t what I was supposed to be thinking about! Willing my stupid cat brain to focus, I sat on the edge of the bed and crossed my arms.


    ¡°I should apologize to Bonnie, the next chance I get,¡± I concluded. It was¡­ unfair of me, to use her like that just to try and hurt Bart in an argument. They¡¯d obviously known each other for a while, and I¡¯d heard with my own two ridiculously good ears that he rejected whatever propaganda about animal people this ¡°Empire¡± was spreading. So, in all likelihood, Bart didn¡¯t actually refuse to confront the trio of rude nobles just because their target had been Bonnie.


    ¡°And,¡± I sighed, tipping backwards onto my back on the bed I¡¯d just finished making. ¡°I should apologize to Bart, I guess.¡±


    I still thought he was wrong, for thinking it was fine to let those three have free rein just because they were a bunch of rich kids, but he did stop me from making it way worse by socking the son of the mayor of the entire town without thinking. I didn¡¯t know if this place had some kind of prison system or what, but I wasn¡¯t in a hurry to find out. Part of me wanted to say he only stepped in and stopped Bentley from hauling me off because if he hadn¡¯t, Felda would be mad at him, but I squashed that part. I didn¡¯t want to keep believing the worst about him, and the first step was not always assuming he was harboring some kind of grudge against me, specifically.


    Feeling a little more sorted out, I hopped off the bed before I could fall asleep again, and smoothed out the blankets one more time.


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s go,¡± I said. To¡­ myself. I paused, one hand on the handle of the bedroom door. Had I been talking to myself? That was¡­ a weird habit to pick up suddenly. Was it another cat thing? Or was this world just driving me insane after not even a single day? Probably best not to dwell on it.


    I opened the door, and the muffled din that I¡¯d been hearing in the background increased in volume, blasting into the room like a wave. I just as quickly shut the door again, and my forehead thumped against the wood.


    Right, it was a tavern. Basically a restaurant. Seeing it deserted in the afternoon had given me the impression it wasn¡¯t a very busy business, but maybe Felda just didn¡¯t open until the evenings. As I listened to the din coming from down the stairs, I felt momentarily transported, like I was back on Earth. It sounded like a house full of guests. It sounded like a busy holiday dinner with the entire family gathered, and here I was, up in my room, avoiding going downstairs except to fill my plate before tactically retreating.


    But it wasn¡¯t my room, and I wasn¡¯t on Earth, and the people downstairs weren¡¯t my family. And, I rationalized, they probably wouldn¡¯t make¡­ the same comments, that I was used to having to shrug off. I could manage, I just had to slip downstairs, maybe find Felda and talk to her about what had happened, maybe hide in the kitchen instead of up here. Yeah, that would work. With another deep breath, I opened the door again, and waded out into the sea of noise.


    I crossed the short length of hallway to reach the stairs, then began tip-toeing down them as slowly and carefully as I could, both hands on the banister. Arriving at the last step before the landing, I steeled myself again and ventured a peek around the corner wall.


    Wow, yup, that¡¯s a pretty full tavern.


    The tables and booths that I¡¯d seen Felda setting up earlier were now almost all entirely occupied, mostly by large burly men and women in the, by now, recognizable warm and rugged fisherman¡¯s garb. But there were also a few standout sights, like Nils, seated at table with a few of his fellow dwarves, all of whom had similarly rough-looking skin, in shades ranging from slate-gray to a sandy tan color. There were also a few of those people I¡¯d seen around town, with large pointed ears and even more widely-varying skin and hair colors than the dwarves.


    Ah, and there was a¡­ bird¡­ man? Seated at one of the stools, with a head full of soft-looking, fluffy gray hair, broken up with what I eventually realized were actual feathers jutting out here and there across his scalp. He was wearing a pair of thin-rimmed glasses, perched on the edge of his nose, and as he reached up to adjust them I saw that the backs of his hands and fingers were covered in patches of scaly skin, and, similar to me, he had sharply curved black claws instead of fingernails. But, unlike me, he had patches of feathers sprouting from his forearms and elbows. There was a red woolen flat cap perched on top of his head, and he was wearing a white, short-sleeved shirt under a warm-looking wooly red vest that matched his hat. And, as he moved, I noticed he had a large pair of wings, tucked up tight at his back, and covered in the same fluffy, soot-gray feathers as his head and arms.


    He started to look up from his meal, and I pulled myself back around the corner, almost slamming my back into the wall. I did not want the bird man to think I was staring at him, simply because he was a bird and I was a cat. I just added ¡°Birds¡± to another of my mental lists, the one that was keeping track of which animals demi-humans could be.


    Right, I couldn¡¯t put it off any longer. I hadn¡¯t seen Felda out on the floor, so she was likely further behind the bar, or in the kitchen, and either option meant I was going to have to step out into the open, and hope that everyone was too focused on their dinner to pay attention to me. Refocused on my goal, I stepped around the corner, out into the space beside the bar. The little cutout section of the counter was raised, and I easily slipped behind the bar, where there was indeed someone working, but not the someone I was looking for.


    ¡°Woah,¡± the large man said when he noticed me approaching from the side, mirroring my thoughts. He still wasn¡¯t as big as Felda, but this guy was ripped, the tight-fitting white shirt and simple black apron he wore doing little to disguise that fact. His dark brown hair was roughly slicked back, and his entire upper lip was completely covered by an impressively-bushy mustache, which twitched as he spoke down to me.


    ¡°Ah, sorry kid, you¡¯re not allowed back he-oh!¡± He started to shoo me back the way I¡¯d come, but stopped, a look of recognition crossing his face. ¡°Oh, forgive me, you are Sam, are you not?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± I stammered out, hunching my shoulders and ducking my head. I wished he hadn¡¯t announced my presence so loudly. But that was nothing compared to what came next.


    ¡°Hey Viktor, who¡¯s¡ª Eeee!¡± The voice behind me had begun to ask, before devolving into a high pitched squeal of delight. I spun around and was treated to the sight of a young woman, looking down at me with obvious glee. Her skin was yellow, like, bright yellow, like the outside of a lemon yellow, and her hair was green, cut into a short, bouncy bob, that perfectly framed her cute face and her large, pointed ears. She was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt under a black, apron-style dress, with a pleated hem that stopped just above her knees.


    I watched, frozen in place, as she bent forward and reached out, clapping both hands onto the sides of my face, and began smooshing my cheeks with her palms.


    ¡°Look at yooooou!¡± the woman squealed again, and with her that close to me I realized that my mind had not just thrown out ¡°lemon-yellow¡± by accident, but that she did, in fact, smell strongly of lemons and citrus. Just what in the world was she, some kind of plant person?


    ¡°Mel, hey Mel!¡± Ignoring my attempts to identify her and, I hoped, the heat I felt in my cheeks, the woman turned and stuck one of her arms into the air, waving it while shouting across the tavern. ¡°Look, Sam¡¯s awake!¡±


    ¡°I can see that, Elle,¡± came the reply, from another woman about the same age, dressed in the exact same outfit. She was standing before a table full of bemused-looking fishermen, holding a wooden slate with a stack of paper clipped to it in one hand and what I assumed was a pencil in the other. Also like the first woman, her ears were pointed, and her skin was a deep indigo color, more blue than purple. Her hair, a lighter shade of blue, was long and perfectly straight, and hung to the middle of her back. When she did actually turn to look my way, I saw that her hair was parted in such a way that it covered a full half of her face.


    ¡°Remember we¡¯re still working, Elle,¡± Mel said, and, thankfully, that made the first woman, Elle, spring back to her feet, releasing my cheeks from her grip.


    ¡°Oh! Right, sorry!¡± Elle shouted back, then gave me an apologetic smile. ¡°Sorry Sam, I have to get back to work, but I¡¯ll see you ¡®round, ¡®kay?¡±


    With that, she bustled past me and the large man, Viktor. She reached the little half window that looked into the kitchen and picked up several plates that were waiting there for her, stacking them up her arms and weaving her way back out onto the floor, to deliver them to their respective tables no doubt.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Waitresses¡­¡± I whispered to myself while I waited for my legs to stop shaking from the sudden overwhelming amount of attention. ¡°Of course she¡¯d have some already.¡±


    ¡°Are you alright down there?¡± the deep, rumbly voice of Viktor asked, and I lifted my head to meet his eyes.


    ¡°Uh, yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± I said. Which was true, as long as I didn¡¯t turn my head and look out into the tavern. That way, I didn¡¯t have to acknowledge how many of the patrons were looking my way, their eyes drawn by Elle¡¯s eager exclamations.


    ¡°Hah,¡± Viktor laughed, the corners of his mustache curving upwards as he smiled. ¡°Good, good. Yes, Elle has been quite eager to meet you since she first heard of you from Felda.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, chancing a glance towards the tables. Elle had dropped off the dishes she¡¯d been carrying and was now just hovering, listening to the table full of sailors and occasionally giggling at something they¡¯d said. ¡°She¡¯s a real, uh¡­ ray of sunshine, isn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°Truly,¡± Viktor agreed with a nod, also watching the woman work. Then, he started, looking down at me again. ¡°Ah, my apologies, was there something I could do for you?¡±


    ¡°Er, no, I was just looking for Felda?¡± I said, shaking my head.


    ¡°Oh, of course,¡± Viktor said, reaching up and scratching his cheek. ¡°Well, she is in the kitchen, but I am afraid she usually does not allow, ah, visitors, while she is working.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Vik,¡± came Felda¡¯s husky, soothing voice from behind the man, and he turned, finding the large woman herself smiling as she piled several trays on the edge of the serving window.


    ¡°One halibut special, two cod baskets, two clam chowders,¡± Felda called out.


    ¡°Aye!¡± Elle shouted back, already heading towards the bar.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Mel called, a bit less loudly, also returning to the bar with two tall, empty glasses in each hand.


    ¡°Come on back, Sam,¡± Felda said, and I nodded, swallowing nervously. Had Bart told her about the incident in the bakery? I could see no reason why he wouldn¡¯t. Was she mad at me? Would she listen to Bart, and decide I was more trouble than I was worth?


    These questions, and many more, were ricocheting around inside my head as I pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen and slipped inside.


    The kitchen was, in a word, impressive. I¡¯d been expecting something simple, rustic even, but the setup Felda had briefly distracted me from my worries. The entire left, right, and rear walls of the kitchen were all counter space, with rows and rows of cabinets and cupboards both above and below. The center of the kitchen had not one, but two island tables, their surfaces topped with thick slabs of some polished white stone, and suspended above both were two rectangular racks laden with pots, pants, and utensils. There was another door, at the far left of the kitchen, opposite the one I¡¯d just come through, that I assumed led to storage or a cellar of some sort. And finally, up against the back wall, between two lengths of counter, were the stoves and ovens.


    That¡¯s where I found Felda, stood before one of the stoves, slowly stirring a very tall pot with a wooden ladle.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I opened my mouth, but trailed off as I had no idea what I was going to say.


    ¡°Are you feeling better?¡± Felda asked, turning to look at me over her shoulder.


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± I said, and she smiled that wide, tusk-filled smile at me.


    ¡°Good,¡± she said, nodding, then pointed at a stack of bowls to her left. ¡°Could you hand me one of those?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said, moving up beside her and lifting the topmost bowl, handing it up to her.


    ¡°So, Bart tells me you two ran into a bit of trouble. At the bakery, huh?¡± Felda asked, while she carefully ladled a large portion of something thick and creamy into the bowl. Ah, so that was why she asked for my help, she wanted to get me close before she sprung the trap.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I sighed, lowering my head to stare at the floor. So, it was that after all. I supposed it was better to get the scolding out of the way first, rather than put it off.


    ¡°Nasty business, that. Those three are really starting to become a problem, but I¡¯m sorry you had to deal with them so soon,¡± Felda said.


    I didn¡¯t say anything, just listened to Felda continue to fill the bowl.


    ¡°Hopefully you won¡¯t run into them again any time soon, they rarely come so far into this half of town,¡± Felda said with a sigh. Then, noting my silence and, I assumed, my bowed head and stiff shoulders, she lowered her voice and softly called out, ¡°Sam? What¡¯s wro¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just¡­ get it over with¡­¡± I said, clenching my fists at my side.


    There was a clatter, as Felda set both the ladle and the bowl down on the counter and knelt in front of me. Slowly, and very gingerly, she put her hands on my shoulders.


    ¡°Get what over with?¡± she asked, and then, when I didn¡¯t answer, she repeated, more softly, ¡°Sam, get what over with? Do you think I¡¯m cross with you?¡±


    I lifted my head, and found Felda, looking at me with her brows knitted together in concern.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know, aren¡¯t you?¡± I asked. I¡¯d told myself I was just going to come into the kitchen and have a normal, straightforward, adult conversation about the incident, but I¡¯d slipped instantly into the same state of mind I always had, ever since I was a child. I was no stranger to getting in trouble, either for doing something I shouldn¡¯t have, or for not doing something I was supposed to do, and the best defense I¡¯d come up with was to just clam up, stand as still as a statue, and take it on the chin until I was allowed to leave again.


    ¡°No, Sam, I am not angry,¡± Felda said, throwing my entire game plan out the window. I¡¯d been bracing myself to get yelled at for acting without thinking, I¡¯d been mentally preparing for the news that I was not worth the trouble I¡¯d caused and wouldn¡¯t be allowed to stay in the tavern any longer. I wasn¡¯t prepared for¡­ this.


    ¡°I¡¯m relieved that you weren¡¯t hurt or anything, and I¡¯m proud of you for standing up to those three, for Bonnie¡¯s sake, but I¡¯m not upset with you, no,¡± Felda explained, and I felt a wrenching sensation in my chest, like someone had grabbed onto my heart and was squeezing it.


    How could she not be mad? Sure, I wasn¡¯t scared of Bentley for my own sake, because I had nothing to lose, but Felda ran a business here. She lived here. And there was no doubt in my mind that between who those three¡¯s fathers were, they could make her life difficult if they really wanted to, and it would be my fault, since she was supporting me.


    So, how could she not be mad at me? How could she not¡­ why wasn¡¯t she¡­


    My distress must have been showing, somehow, as before even I knew what was going to happen, I found Felda¡¯s arms, ready to catch me when my knees buckled. She eased me onto the floor of the kitchen, where I buried my face in her apron and, for the second time that day, cried harder than I had in years, unsure of why I was even doing it this time. I didn¡¯t cry, and I didn¡¯t need people to help me, to feel bad for me, but the more I told myself that, the harder it became to stop. I could only hope the thickness of the apron and the commotion of a tavern full of people eating and chatting was enough to drown out the noise I was making.


    Eventually, inevitably, I calmed down, and when I pulled my face out of Felda¡¯s lap, she handed me a folded hand towel.


    ¡°Here,¡± she said softly. ¡°Sorry if it smells like dishes.¡±


    I laughed, a pitiful, phlegmy sound, and used the towel to clean my face and blow my nose while Felda patted my back in slow circles.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I mumbled, and she shook her head.


    ¡°You have nothing to apologize for,¡± Felda said, insistently. It was a kind statement, but one I knew to be untrue.


    ¡°I¡¯m distracting you¡­ you¡¯re busy, you have cooking to do, you have a tavern full of customers¡­¡± I protested, and Felda laughed softly.


    ¡°Nothing¡¯s going to burn, and I know almost every one of those people out there, and they know me. None of them is going to kick up a stink if they have to wait a few extra minutes to get their dinner,¡± Felda said, giving me a small smile. ¡°They know what I¡¯d do to them if they did.¡±


    I laughed again, sitting up straighter. I knew she was just trying to cheer me up, and it was working. But¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re still wrong,¡± I said, swallowing. ¡°I do have something to be sorry for. I said¡­ something pretty awful to Bart. Do you know where he is? I need to apologize to him¡­ and to Bonnie, if she hasn¡¯t banned me from her bakery.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯d be happy to hear you out,¡± Felda said, offering me a hand. I took it, and she rose, helping me to my feet as she went. ¡°As for Bart, he¡¯s here in the tavern. He¡¯ll be in his usual spot; it¡¯s the table in the far-left corner, beside the stairs to the guest rooms.¡±


    ¡°T-thanks,¡± I said, but she stopped me before I could leave, picking up the bowl she¡¯d filled from the pot and thrusting it into my hands.


    ¡°Here, take this,¡± she said, then reached for a metal tray that had several partial loaves of bread resting on it, ripping off a large chunk and setting it on a small plate, pushing that into my other hand.


    ¡°Wh¡­ Wha¡­¡± I stammered, looking at the creamy, off-white, still steaming bowl of delicious smelling soup in my hand.


    ¡°It¡¯s chowder,¡± Felda explained. ¡°Clam chowder. For some reason, Bart brought me back a bunch of extra loaves of bread, so I decided to add it to the menu for tonight. Free bread with a bowl, it¡¯s a great seller, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll love it.¡±


    Oh, he did, did he? So, that whole line about the reason for the trip to the bakery being to pick up bread for Felda had been just that, a ruse, an excuse for Bart to buy me a treat, huh? That sly bastard.


    ¡°Thank you!¡± I said, smiling up at Felda. ¡°For this, for¡­ everything.¡±


    ¡°Oh, go on,¡± Felda said, waving me off with the ladle. ¡°You go find Bart, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s worried about you too. I¡¯ll send one of the girls with some lemonade for you in a moment.¡±


    I nodded, hurrying to the kitchen door, pushing it open with my back and stepping out into the area behind the bar.


    Thankfully, almost everyone was still busy eating and drinking and laughing, and my moment of vulnerability hadn¡¯t been experienced by the whole tavern. The same couldn¡¯t be said for Viktor; the large man was unable to wipe the concern off his face before he looked down at me as I passed.


    ¡°Ah, is everything¡­ well, young Sam?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s fine,¡± I said, giving him a smile. It was maybe not the best first impression for him to have of me, distracting his boss and bawling my eyes out in the kitchen, but I couldn¡¯t worry about that at the moment.


    As I passed, I also noticed one more person watching me go. It was the bird man, his large golden eyes following me behind his spectacles. As I passed, he smiled, and reached up to, completely unironically, doff his cap at me, before going back to his meal. I blinked, and stared at him, but he didn¡¯t seem to have anything more to contribute, so I just turned and continued on my way. I suppose I should have just been glad he hadn¡¯t taken one look at me and run screaming from the tavern.


    Now that I knew to look for it, I could see the table that Felda had been talking about. It was an extra booth that was tucked away into the left corner, furthest from the door, and partially obscured by the stairs that led to the second floor. I could see Bart, bent over a bowl, a half-gone hunk of bread in one hand and a book in the other.


    ¡°Well, here goes,¡± I said, again, to myself, as I slipped out from behind the bar and started to cross the tavern floor. I could not ignore the way conversations momentarily stilled as I passed, nor the way people obviously turned in their seats to watch me. I simply kept my head held high, my back straight, and my eyes on my destination. I only faltered slightly when Bart¡¯s eyes lifted from his book, noting my approach. He stared at me, and I wondered if I ought to just spin around on my heels and run back to the kitchen, but he snapped his book shut and sat up straight, motioning me closer with a jerk of his head.


    Spurred on, I hurried the rest of the way and climbed into the booth, scooting along the seats until I was sitting across from Bart.


    Conversations resumed, the indistinct noise filling the space where neither of us could figure out how to start. Bart was looking down, at his large hands, which were resting on the table. He was clearly thinking of saying something, but I resolved to get my piece out first.


    ¡°Bart,¡± I said, causing him to raise his gaze. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said, simply.


    ¡°Geez, you could look a little less surprised,¡± I huffed, noting the way his eyebrows shot up.


    ¡°Ah, yes, you¡¯re right,¡± Bart said, clearing his throat and gathering himself up, fixing me with a more serious stare. ¡°Please, continue.¡±


    Rolling my eyes, I sighed and leaned forward, propping my elbow on the table and resting my chin up on my palm.


    ¡°Right,¡± I said, picking up where I¡¯d left off. ¡°Anyway, yeah, I¡¯m sorry. Not about what I said to those three, they deserved that, and I won¡¯t apologize for standing up to them, but I am sorry about what I said to you, after. I¡¯m¡­ pretty sure you don¡¯t actually secretly hate demi-humans, or me, I was just upset, and it wasn¡¯t fair of me to take it out on you.¡±


    With one more deep breath, I wrapped up the apology, looking down at the bowl in front of me and idly stirring it with my spoon.


    Bart was quiet for several moments, and it took all my strength not to just dig into the impossibly fragrant chowder while I waited for him to figure out how he wanted to respond. But, I wanted to be conscious enough to hear his reply, and I had a feeling I wasn¡¯t going to be able to focus on anything once I started eating.


    ¡°You were under the impression that I hated you?¡±


    I looked up again. Bart¡¯s brow was only slightly furrowed, and his mouth was set in a perfectly straight line, but he was looking at me with such sadness in his eyes that I almost felt guilty.


    ¡°Well¡­ yeah, a little bit?¡± I said, meeting his eyes. ¡°You didn¡¯t seem thrilled when Felda suggested you show me the way, or when I decided to follow you into town.¡±


    ¡°Mmh,¡± Bart said, taking a deep breath. ¡°I suppose that is my folly, for thinking you were not¡­ capable of recognizing that. I was annoyed, yes, but I was expecting you to behave differently, to behave worse than¡­¡±


    He trailed off, shaking his head.


    ¡°This is a rubbish apology¡­¡± Bart muttered to himself, straightening his back and clearing his throat before starting over. ¡°Sam, I apologize, first and foremost, for anything and everything I may have done to give you the impression that I despise you. I apologize, for presuming I already know who you are and how you will behave, based purely on your species. I will try to keep both of those in mind in the future.¡±


    Damn, he was really blowing my apology out of the water.


    ¡°And¡­¡± he continued, heaving a sigh. ¡°I apologize for the way I acted in the bakery, as well. I should have stepped in sooner, and I should not have tried to paint your actions as anything less than they were: noble, and commendable.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, take it easy buddy,¡± I said, putting my hands up. ¡°All I did was tell off some bullies¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, it was a simple act, but it was the right one. You reminded me, and Bonnie, and Bentley and his comrades as well, that this is not the Empire, and we should not be acting like it is. I believe I needed to hear your words as much as he did, and I only hope he dwells on them half as much as I have been.¡±


    ¡°Geeeeez,¡± I sighed, resting my forehead in my palm again. ¡°That was¡­ so much of a better apology than mine.¡±


    ¡°It¡­ is not a competition, Sam¡­¡± Bart said, confused, and I laughed.


    ¡°I know, I know, I just wish I¡¯d come up with something more impressive sounding for mine¡­ Whatever.¡± I shook my head, holding my hand out across the table. ¡°Apology accepted, let¡¯s just¡­ forget about today and move forward. Clean slate, y¡¯know?¡±


    Bart, ever so slightly, smiled, reaching out to shake my offered hand.


    ¡°Agreed. Apology accepted,¡± he said.


    ¡°Thank God,¡± I sighed, taking my hand back and sitting forward in my seat. ¡°Because the smell of this chowder has been driving me mad and I really wanted to wait until we were finished to start eating.¡±


    In another first, for me anyway, Bart chuckled, leaning back in the booth.


    ¡°By all means, don¡¯t let me keep you any longer. ¡®Tis very good, I assure you.¡±


    Eager to verify for myself, I took the hunk of bread I¡¯d been given in one hand, tearing off a sizable chunk, and dipped it into the creamy chowder, swirling it a few times before popping the entire thing into my mouth.


    ¡°Mmmmmm¡­¡± I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. It had cooled slightly, but that hardly mattered, when the taste was so incredible. The bread had soaked up plenty of the chowder, and like a wrung-out sponge, released it as I chewed, filling my mouth with the rich, creamy, briny broth. The large chunks of clam, and their signature flavor, were the main stars of the show, but I couldn¡¯t ignore the tender, fluffy cubes of potato, or the hint of savory smokiness from the crisp, crunchy bits of bacon also playing back up. The ingredients, and the seasonings, and the broth, all came together in perfect harmony, and I knew it was going to be very difficult for me not to beg Felda for a second, and maybe third, bowl after finishing this first one.


    ¡°Wow,¡± a dull, almost monotone voice sounded, calling me back to the material plane. I opened my eyes, finding the dark-haired waitress standing at the edge of our table, a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and a glass in the other.


    ¡°So you like, really dig seafood, huh?¡± the woman, Mel, asked, setting the glass down and giving it a generous pour from the pitcher before placing it in front of my plate.


    Bobbing my head in thanks, I reached for the glass so I could take a swig from it to help wash down the mouthful of soup and bread. Damn, even in a fantasy world, the waitresses still know how to wait until your mouth is full before visiting your table.


    ¡°Uh, y-yeah, I kinda do,¡± I choked out, once I could speak again. I noticed, with a bit of a warm feeling in my stomach, that the pitcher of lemonade that Felda had sent over had had coral sugar added to it again. ¡°Er, hi, I¡¯m Sam.¡±


    ¡°Mel,¡± she said, bringing one hand to her chin and looking me over with her dark-purple eyes. ¡°You have no idea how badly Elle wanted to bring you this lemonade.¡±


    ¡°O-oh?¡± I said, leaning over in my seat. I could see Elle behind the bar with her head in her hands, being comforted by Viktor.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mel said, half-turning and following my gaze to her overreacting co-worker. ¡°I challenged her to a game of turtle, eel, crab for it.¡±


    I wondered if that could possibly be what I thought it was, when Mel bent down and whispered to me conspiratorially, ¡°She always throws turtle first.¡±


    ¡°Aaaaah,¡± I said, my suspicions confirmed. ¡°She knows I¡¯m not going anywhere, right? She¡¯ll get to, uh, meet me soon anyway.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mel said, shrugging her shoulders. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯ll be fine, she just likes being dramatic.¡±


    I watched, and eventually Elle sat up straight, taking a deep breath in through her nose, then slapping both her cheeks with her palm. Her smile returned like flicking on a lightswitch, and she bounced over to the window, grabbing an order that had just come up and bustling off back to work.


    ¡°See,¡± Mel said, and I nodded. ¡°Well, I better get moving. Nice meeting you, Sam, let me know if you two need anything else.¡±


    ¡°T-thanks, uh, you too! I mean, I will!¡± I called after her as she left, then sank back into the booth, sighing and resuming my methodical devouring of the bread and chowder. Once I was out of bread I used the spoon, and before I knew it I was tipping the bowl up, scraping the last bits of broth into my mouth.


    Sitting back with another satisfied groan, I found Bart, still only halfway through his bowl, looking at me with what I figured to be his version of fondness.


    ¡°That was so good,¡± I said, sorely tempted to just flop onto my side and fall asleep in the booth.


    ¡°Felda will be glad to hear it,¡± Bart said, nodding.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah, she will, won¡¯t she,¡± I said quietly as I pushed my empty bowl and plate out of the way and rested my arms on the table, leaning forward on them. ¡°I¡¯d¡­ like to find some way to repay her.¡±


    Bart did manage to not look as surprised that time, but it didn¡¯t help that he paused with his mouth open, a spoonful of chowder halfway into it. Lowering the spoon back into the bowl and straightening his back, Bart gave me an appraising look.


    ¡°Not just for the soup, I mean. Or the mussels, or the cod,¡± I said, looking down at the table and idly drumming my clawed fingers. ¡°I mean, for all of it. For everything. For¡­ letting me stay here and letting me eat her amazing cooking. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to pay her in full for everything she¡¯s already given me, but I want to be able to give her something back, y¡¯know?¡±


    ¡°Are you suggesting¡­ that you find work around the village that you can do?¡± Bart ventured, and I nodded.


    ¡®Yeah, that or, you know, get some kind of job,¡± I said. ¡°I started thinking about it while we were out running errands, actually.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Bart asked, and I let him have his incredulity.


    ¡°Yes, really. Seeing so many people doing what they obviously loved, and making a living out of it, it made me wonder what it would feel like, to find that ¡®perfect job¡¯.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Bart started to say, and I chuckled.


    ¡°I know, hoping for ¡®perfect¡¯ on my first job likely isn¡¯t going to happen, and to be honest, I don¡¯t know which jobs, if any, I¡¯m qualified to do in a place like this, but I want to at least try,¡± I said, meeting Bart¡¯s eyes again, and hoping I sounded as serious as I felt. It was true though. I¡¯d been dreading the prospect of having to go out searching for jobs back on Earth, but at least here things seemed easier, and less formalized.


    ¡°That would¡­ be a great help to Felda, I¡¯m sure,¡± Bart said, holding my gaze for a moment before looking away again and continuing, ¡°I could also, perhaps, help you discover what kind of work you''re best suited for, what kind of work calls to you. If you¡¯d like me to, that is.¡±


    I thought about turning him down. The me from that morning would have turned him down, but the me from that morning probably wouldn¡¯t be considering voluntarily seeking employment when there was a nice, juicy free ride still up for offer. I knew, deep down, that one day in this weird fantastical world wasn¡¯t enough to totally change who I was, because part of me still balked at the idea of work. But, I realized, I did not want to keep being that version of me, and the first step away from that was going to be learning how to do things I didn¡¯t want to do. And the second step would be letting people help me, when they offered, damnit.


    At least, when people in this world offered to help me, it felt genuine.


    ¡°Sure, I''d like that,¡± I said, shrugging casually like it wasn''t going against every pattern I''d ever established for myself. Bart nodded, and went to continue eating his chowder.


    ¡°Actually,¡± I spoke up, then paused, the time it took me to think over what I was about to say, allowing him to get a few more spoonfuls in. ¡°It''s funny, you offering like that. There is¡­ one job I think I''d like to try first, and you''d actually be the perfect person to talk to about it, but¡­ I don''t know, it¡¯s kind of stupid.¡±


    Bart, having poured himself a glass of the lemonade as well, took a slow, careful sip before responding.


    ¡°And which job would that be?¡± he said, cocking his head curiously.


    ¡°Promise you won''t laugh,¡± I said, and Bart raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Why would I laugh?¡± he asked, which, fair, he did not seem the type.


    ¡°Right¡­ Well, okay. I¡¯ve never done it before, so I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be good at it, or even actually like it once I try, but if works out it really might be the perfect job for me,¡± I said, using the long preamble to build up just a bit more confidence that I wasn¡¯t about to sound like an idiot. ¡°What I¡¯m saying is, I think I would¡­ like to¡­ try¡­¡±


    I trailed off, not because my confidence had failed me, but because I felt my ears perking up on their own. I spent a split second wondering what exactly could have caused that, when a distinctive voice made itself known above the background chatter.


    ¡°...sure this is the correct establishment? I¡¯d rather not prolong my exposure to the ghastly smell of this place any longer than I have to.¡±


    It was a high, reedy voice, and one I recognized. It belonged to Laurence, the taller of Bentley¡¯s companions from the incident at the bakery.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± another voice, more croaky, that one belonged to the shorter man, Roberto.


    And if those two were, by the sounds of it, outside, and getting closer, that could only mean¡­


    ¡°Yes, I am certain. She was seen retreating down this dock after that beastly foreigner chased us out of the bakery, and it is common knowledge that he and the owner of this tavern are close.¡±


    And that was Bentley. I turned my head, and was pretty certain I could see them through the windows, coming down the short side path that led from the street to the docks, about to round the corner onto the front entrance to the Crooked Hook.


    ¡°Sam?¡±


    Bart¡¯s voice, concerned, drew my attention back, but I kept my eyes on the three shapes I could still see moving past the windows, heading for the door.


    ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± I said.


    ¡°Who?¡± Bart asked, instantly upright in his seat.


    ¡°Bentley, and his two goons,¡± I explained, and heard Bart exhale through his nose.


    ¡°How do you know?¡± Bart asked, less forcefully.


    ¡°I can hear them,¡± I explained, scooting further back into the booth.


    A second later, the door opened, and into the tavern strolled Bentley, Laurence, and Roberto.


    Unlike the momentary stalling of conversation that had happened in my wake, upon noticing who had just entered, all noise inside the tavern came to a halt.


    Just like when he¡¯d entered the bakery, Bentley¡¯s face scrunched up into a nasty scowl as he regarded the crowded tavern. His friends were also doing their best to look as scornful and unshaken as he was, but I could see Laurence fiddling with the edge of one of his flowing sleeves, picking at the fabric, and Roberto was shifting his weight constantly and fidgeting with one of his many rings.


    After a moment of just standing there and glowering, Bentley started moving again, approaching the bar. I saw that, in addition to the same expensive looking blue and gold outfit he¡¯d been wearing before, he¡¯d added an actual cape to his ensemble. Or maybe it was a cloak. Whatever it was, it was a darker shade of blue, and made of a much thicker fabric, presumably to ward off the chilly night air after the sun had set.


    Once he¡¯d reached the bar, Bently glared up into the eyes of Viktor, and spoke, his voice carrying across the silent tavern.


    ¡°I would like to speak to the owner of this establishment,¡± Bentley said.


    ¡°Ah, yes, let me¡ª¡± Viktor replied stiffly, but before he could even start to turn, the door to the kitchen pushed open behind him.


    ¡°And what can I do for you, Master Baker-Hall?¡± Felda said, as she exited the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked.


    ¡°Stay here,¡± Bart whispered to me, sliding out of the booth. He moved to stand in the space between the stairs and the booth, putting himself between me and where Bentley was now standing, half-hidden by a support beam.


    ¡°Finally, someone with a little respect,¡± Bentley said, and I rolled my eyes. He was one to talk about respect. ¡°I''m looking for two people, and I believe you know which.¡±


    ¡°Well, I''m happy to be of service to the office of the mayor, but I''m afraid I''m just a simple tavern owner,¡± Felda said, shaking her head sadly. A quick chorus of chuckles rippled through the otherwise quiet crowd, just as quickly coming to an end as Bentley shot a look over his shoulder. ¡°I''m afraid you''ll have to spell it out for me, who are you looking for?¡±


    ¡°I don''t have time for your games, woman,¡± Bentley said, sounding more and more petulant by the second. ¡°I''m looking for your friend, the man who calls himself Bart, and that vagrant beast girl, the cat!¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Felda asked, lifting her eyebrows and feigning surprise. ¡°Well, I''m sure I saw both of them just a little while ago¡­¡±


    Felda made a show of crossing her arms, grinding her knuckles into her forehead like she was thinking extra hard. At the same time, Bart slipped out from his spot beside the stairs, so smoothly and quietly I wouldn''t have noticed if I hadn''t been right next to him. He circled around the trio, approaching them from behind, and I felt the entire tavern drawing in its breath and holding it.


    Meanwhile, Bentley was rapidly losing his patience, and stepped forward, slamming his fist onto the bar.


    ¡°Enough! Just tell me where Bart is hiding!¡± he demanded. Felda¡¯s only response was to smile pleasantly at him, and again, I could practically feel the rest of the patrons holding in the urge to laugh, many of them actively covering their mouths.


    ¡°Ain''t nobody hidin¡¯ from you, lad,¡± Bart finally said, crossing his arms.


    ¡°Aach!¡± Bentley shouted, whirling around and coming face to face with the older man. Bart had managed to position himself behind the trio without any of them noticing. At Bentley¡¯s shriek, the other two jumped and spun as well, then quickly scrambled to put Bentley at the head of their formation again.


    The tavern erupted with laughter, some patrons slapping the surfaces of their tables, some teetering in their stools and leaning on each other. I had to bite down on one of my knuckles to not join in, and I couldn¡¯t imagine how Bart was managing to hold a straight face.


    Eventually, the laughter died down, and Bentley stepped forward, clearing his throat and straightening his shirt, facing down Bart¡¯s unamused stare.


    ¡°Where is she, then?¡± Bentley asked, deftly ignoring the laughing fit that he and his companions had just endured. Then, realizing the potential folly of not being specific enough, lest he open himself to more verbal keep away, he pointed a finger at Bart and clarified, ¡°and you know who I mean! The beast girl, the cat!¡±


    ¡°She''s about,¡± Bart said.


    Bentley narrowed his eyes, then quickly threw a glance over his shoulders, I suppose in case I''d been sneaking up on him from that angle as well.


    ¡°Where,¡± Bentley asked through clenched teeth.


    ¡°Why,¡± Bart fired back.


    ¡°Because I said so, you damnable¡ª¡± Bentley started to shout, his face going red. Before he could dig himself too deep a hole, his companions put a hand each on his shoulder (or his upper arm, in Roberto''s case) and he snapped his mouth shut. Taking several deep breaths and bringing a hand up to grind his knuckles into his forehead, he started again, sounding just barely back in control of himself.


    ¡°Because I have some questions I would like to ask her, Bart.¡±


    Behind Bentley, I saw Felda move, and her eyes met mine, only for a second.


    ¡°I''m afraid she''s in no condition to be answering questions at the moment,¡± Felda said, causing Bentley to have to turn around again to face her. ¡°What is it you need to know so badly?¡±


    Bentley took another several seconds to answer, now that it was Felda he was talking to again.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said, when he finally did. ¡°I have questions for her, regarding her presence in our little town. Where she came from, and what her reasons for being here are, and most importantly how and when she arrived here. Unless the two of you can answer that for me?¡± Bentley sounded like he''d finally regained a bit of steam, now that he''d actually managed to get to the point.


    ¡°I''m afraid we can¡¯t,¡± Felda said, which Bentley responded to with an irritated huff.


    ¡°Very well then. Perhaps you could at least inform me of her current residence. Surely you know that?¡± Bentley asked, and for once Felda didn''t have a quick response, pausing to consider the young man in front of her.


    ¡°She lives here, with me,¡± Felda explained, and I saw a smile spread across Bentley¡¯s face.


    ¡°Ah!¡± Bentley said, making a clicking noise with his tongue. ¡°Now that is interesting. And convenient. I suppose that means if I just wait around here long enough, she''d turn up eventually, yes?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± said Laurence and Roberto in unison, as Bentley climbed onto a stool.


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Felda repeated, favoring Bentley with one of her best tusk-filled smiles. ¡°Is there anything I can get you then?¡±


    ¡°Surely not!¡± Laurence interjected. ¡°I shouldn''t think you have anything on your menu but fish, and only of the most common sort as well, with only cheap ales to wash it down with!¡±


    ¡°Doubt you¡¯ll find even a single scrap of beef or pork or fowl in a place like this,¡± Roberto followed up, hooking his hands through his belt again.


    Oh, don''t tell me these guys hate fish too. I''d only become such a big fan of it today, technically, but still, could they get any worse?


    ¡°Now now,¡± Bentley said, dismissively. ¡°It would be¡­ ill-mannered to take up a seat and not order anything. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s something on the menu that is passable, at the very least.¡±


    Having admonished his companions, Bentley turned his gaze on a fixture of the room I¡¯d failed to take in before; a large rectangular chalkboard hung up on the wall behind the bar and beside the serving window.


    ¡°Mmh, I will try a bowl of this ¡®chowder¡¯ everyone seems so keen on, and a glass of lemonade,¡± Bentley declared. Felda continued to look at him for several seconds, before uncrossing her arms and shrugging.


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll have that right up,¡± she said, then turned her head until she found Elle and Mel, standing off to the side and staring, like everyone else. She jerked her head in Bentley¡¯s direction and I saw the pair form a quick huddle, whispering back and forth to each other. A decision was reached, and there was a brief flurry of movement as they played a quick game of what was, undoubtedly, rock, paper, scissors, but with slightly different hand motions. Elle thrust her fist forward, closed, and Mel stuck her hand out in the shape of a crab¡¯s claw, covering the fist, and Elle¡¯s face fell. A second later, she was beaming brightly, as she approached the spot at the bar where Bentley had seated himself.


    I couldn¡¯t hear what she said as she poured him a glass from the pitcher she carried because by then, small, quiet snatches of conversation had started up again. Nowhere near as loudly or as rowdily as before, but people were returning to their drinking and their meals. Hesitantly, Laurence and Roberto got into the two seats on either side of Bentley, and Bart moved to position himself against the stairs again. For a while, it seemed like everyone was just waiting to see what would happen next.


    What did happen next, obviously, was that Felda returned, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of chowder and several neatly sliced, uh, slices of bread on it, setting it before Bentley.


    ¡°Here you are, Master Baker-Hall,¡± Felda said cordially.


    ¡°Ah, wonderful. And, how much do I owe you then?¡± Bentley asked, leaning forward in his stool and sniffing at the fragrant steam coming off the soup.


    ¡°Oh, think nothing of it,¡± Felda said, waving her hand.


    ¡°Oh? That¡¯s very generous of you,¡± Bentley said, lifting the spoon and slowly, deliberately guiding it into his mouth. He followed up with a sip of lemonade and then, fixing his eyes on Felda again, went on the attack.


    ¡°You¡¯re a very generous person, aren¡¯t you, Miss Stoutsinger?¡± Bentley asked, leaving no room for her to answer his clearly rhetorical question before he continued, ¡°I¡¯ve heard you¡¯re always quick to offer financial assistance to your friends and neighbors in times of need. On top of that, you have a robust staff working for you, and you support your local fishermen by buying from them directly. This tavern of yours must be doing very well.¡±


    Bentley had another spoonful of chowder and a long pull from his glass, letting out a satisfied sigh and wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. I didn¡¯t know about Felda, but I was actually starting to grow worried about where he was headed with this line of conversation.


    Then, he went in for the kill.


    ¡°So well, in fact, that you can apparently afford to take in a catkin of your own now,¡± Bentley said, and I felt my throat tighten. ¡°There are nobles even in the capital who would find that a daunting prospect, let alone be able to procure one so easily, yet one has materialized right here in our little town, and under your care. One can¡¯t help but wonder, in the face of all that, if maybe your tavern is doing too well, hmm?¡±


    Oh, that bastard. I still didn¡¯t know why everyone just assumed cat people were inherently some kind of huge burden, but clearly Felda wouldn¡¯t be able to get away with just brushing off the fact that she was letting me live with her rent-free like she¡¯d thought. Maybe this conflict would have come much later if I hadn¡¯t directly antagonized Bentley on my first day out, but I got the feeling it would have happened eventually. And now, I really was going to wind up causing trouble for Felda, no matter what she said.


    ¡°If you¡¯re managing so well that you can make plans to house and clothe and feed that girl, then I must in turn wonder if perhaps I need to have a word with my father, about having your business looked into, possibly adjusting your taxes¡­¡± Bentley said, casually and offhand, like he was discussing the weather and not making some kind of weird, roundabout threat.


    Well, I¡¯d wanted to talk to Bart about it first, but I guess now is as good a time as any, I thought, as I slid out of the booth.


    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± I announced, after ducking around Bart and taking a few steps towards the bar.


    ¡°Sam¡ª¡± I heard Bart hiss behind me.


    ¡°Ah, there she is!¡± Bentley grinned as he turned in his stool, his companions following suit, along with the entire tavern. I felt my knees start to tremble a little at making myself the center of attention, but for once that served my purposes just fine.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, here I am, and you can quit threatening Felda,¡± I said, continuing to walk towards the seated trio.


    ¡°Threats? Me?¡± Bentley gasped, putting a hand to his chest. ¡°I would never. I simply think it¡¯s suspicious for a simple tavern owner to suddenly start living beyond her means, as will, I¡¯m sure, the treasury when they hear off¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said that won¡¯t be necessary,¡± I cut him off, stopping once I was standing directly in front of Bentley¡¯s stool. He¡¯d continued to watch me approach, and, with a growing smile, slid from his seat and stood before me, placing his hands on his hips.


    ¡°Oh? And why is that?¡± Bentley asked.


    ¡°Because Felda isn¡¯t going to be housing, and clothing, and feeding me,¡± I said, crossing my arms. Bentley scoffed and rolled his eyes.


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± Bentley said, his face and tone so insufferably smug. ¡°Don¡¯t try to lie to me now, girl. I suppose you¡¯re going to tell me it¡¯s Bart who¡¯ll be caring for you instead!¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± I said, keeping my tone level despite how much I was starting to want to take another swing at him.


    ¡°Then who¡ª¡± Bentley began, and I took a step forward, causing him to jump and lean away from me.


    ¡°I will!¡± I shouted, pointing a clawed finger at him. ¡°I¡¯m capable of taking care of myself, and I¡¯ll be paying for my own housing, and clothing, and food. You wanted to know why I¡¯m here? That¡¯s why. I came to this town to work!¡±


    The tavern had gone silent again, as still and quiet as when Bentley had first entered. Bentley himself had backed into his stool, and my shouting had caused him to lean back awkwardly until his back and elbows hit the bar, and his wide eyes were boring into me.


    That showed ¡®em, I concluded, crossing my arms and smirking at him.


    Then, he began to chuckle. I felt my brow furrow as Bentley regained his balance and stood up, laughing heartily at my furious declaration. Laurence and Roberto quickly followed suit, the former laughing into one of his wide sleeves and the latter heaving great, bellowing guffaws as he hopped down from his stool to hold onto his knees.


    Worse still, I heard a few voices out in the crowd start to echo the laughter. I felt my confidence start to falter, and my eyes begin to unfocus. Was it really that ridiculous? Did everyone really think so little of catkin that my failure was already a given?


    Movement behind Bentley drew my eye, and I saw Felda there, looking down at me across the bar¡¯s counter. She was smiling, and when she saw me looking, she gave a solid nod of her head.


    That was enough to keep me from backing down, or from bolting for the stairs with my tail literally tucked between my legs, and I just stood there, waiting for Bentley to laugh himself out and look up again, wiping an actual tear from his eyes.


    ¡°My goodness¡­¡± Bentley breathed, still catching his breath and fighting to get his composure back. ¡°So¡­ tell me, girl, what career did you have in mind, coming all the way to our little village?¡±


    ¡°A serving girl, perhaps?¡± Laurence asked, joining in on Bentley¡¯s mirth.


    ¡°Maybe you could employ her! As a chambermaid!¡± Roberto laughed, nudging Bentley in the hip with his elbow.


    I turned my head, and met Bart¡¯s eyes. He hadn¡¯t followed after me when I walked forward to confront Bentley, which I took as a sign of him trusting me not to do anything stupid. He was looking at me strangely again, that funny look I was starting to associate with him catching me doing something too un-catkin like. I flashed him a grin, and turned back to Bentley.


    ¡°Fishing,¡± I said.


    Now that really knocked the smiles off their faces. I even saw Felda¡¯s eyebrows shoot up behind the trio, but I just kept on grinning.


    ¡°You came here¡­ to fish?¡± Bentley asked, a disbelieving laugh once again escaping between breaths.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I said, shrugging my shoulders. ¡°What of it?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you know where fishing happens?¡± Roberto asked, and I looked at him, raising an eyebrow at the odd question.


    ¡°The ocean?¡± I supplied, tilting my head. ¡°Or, lakes and rivers too, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Which are bodies of water!¡± Roberto followed up, and I blinked. He was smirking like he¡¯d completely outsmarted me, but I just stared back at him.


    ¡°So?¡± I said, and he gaped at me. All three of them did, in fact. I knew I¡¯d be turned into a half-person, half-cat, but they couldn¡¯t possibly think¡­


    ¡°Your kind reviles the water,¡± Laurence stated, matter-of-factly, and I smacked one of my palms into my forehead.


    ¡°Felda,¡± I said, leaning around them to speak to her. ¡°Could you get me a glass of water?¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure,¡± Felda said, slightly thrown off by suddenly being drawn into my confrontation. She pulled a glass from under the bar and turned to one of several large wooden barrels on either side of the drink shelves, turning the spigot and filling the glass with water.


    I reached across the bar to accept it from her, then turned, staring down the trio who were watching with mixed expressions of curiosity and skepticism. I brought the glass to my lips first, taking a few sips just so it wouldn¡¯t make too big a mess, then, with a sigh, splashed the rest of it into my face. The three of them, as well as several people around the tavern, including Bart, made noises of alarm, but I just pushed my now-damp hair out of my face and set the glass back on the bar.


    ¡°Any more questions?¡± I asked the thoroughly shaken-looking trio. I didn¡¯t care if I wasn¡¯t acting like a ¡°real¡± catfolk at that moment, the looks on their faces were worth it.


    ¡°T-t-that¡­¡± Laurence stammered indignantly. Roberto just looked confused. Only Bentley seemed like he still wasn¡¯t ready to give up and just accept me at my word.


    ¡°Do you even know how to fish?¡± Bentley asked.


    ¡°Do you?¡± I shot back and, once again, I heard a few scattered laughs from the crowd.


    ¡°Yes, as a matter of fact I do,¡± Bentley fired back just as quickly. ¡°An outsider such as yourself might not realize it, but fishing is a vital component of the fabric of our town¡¯s culture and livelihood, so of course my father has ensured I am well practiced in the craft.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I said, nodding along while water dripped down the back of my neck. That made sense, of course. There might be farms, and smiths, and all sorts of other businesses, but a town built right on the water like this was bound to owe a huge part of its prosperity and history to fishing. ¡°Well, good for you. If you can manage to figure it out, then I¡¯m sure I should have no trouble picking it up.¡±


    ¡°Hear, hear!¡± one lone, brave voice from the crowded tavern shouted.


    Bentley¡¯s nostrils flared, and I knew that had got him good. It would have been the perfect time to leave things where they were and walk away, with the issue of my presence in the town and Felda¡¯s ability to bankroll my stay put to bed, but I simply wasn¡¯t done running my mouth, and I wanted to get in one last jab before I quit.


    ¡°Who knows, maybe I¡¯ll turn out to be even better at it than you,¡± I said, shrugging dramatically, and I instantly knew I¡¯d fucked up when Bentley¡¯s response to that wasn¡¯t the further darkening of his cheeks, but a look of realization and a return of his smug smile.


    ¡°Oh, are you willing to wager on that?¡± Bentley asked. That set off a chain of excited muttering throughout the crowd.


    ¡°Hey yeah, the Midsummer Fishin¡¯ Festival is comin¡¯ up!¡± another voice in the crowd announced. ¡°She could enter the fishin¡¯ competition!¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I said, glancing over my shoulder. The crowd was really taking to the idea of some kind of bet and whatever this festival was. And so many of them were giving me encouraging grins and shaking their cups and glasses at me, it was hard not to get swept up in it.


    ¡°Well, how long is it till this festival?¡± I asked, stalling for time.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t those huge ears good for anything?¡± Bentley asked, snidely. Oh, if he only knew. ¡°It¡¯s the Midsummer Festival, that means it¡¯s in the middle of summer. Today¡¯s the eleventh of first-quarter, the festival begins on the twentieth of second-quarter and goes until the twenty-fifth, so you have thirty-nine days. But, surely you¡¯ll have no trouble being ready by then, right?¡±


    Huh¡­ I really needed to get my hands on a calendar soon, before anyone found out I didn¡¯t know anything about the days, weeks, or months of the year in this place.


    ¡°Hey, she ain¡¯t ¡®fraid a you!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you ¡®tell ¡®em, cat girl!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d put my money on ¡®er!¡±


    The tavern was growing more animated by the second, and I was fully ready to ride that wave.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I said to Bentley, lifting my chin high. ¡°No trouble. I¡¯ll see you at the festival, and I¡¯ll beat you at the festival.¡±


    ¡°Well, then perhaps we should discuss terms,¡± Bentley said, bringing a hand to his chin. ¡°Whichever of us places higher in the competition¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, I won¡¯t just place higher than you,¡± I said, my head swimming with visions of completely demolishing this smug, rude, racist prick worse than he¡¯d ever imagined. ¡°I¡¯m gona win the competition!


    ¡°Ah, Sam, perhaps¡­¡± Felda started to speak, but Bentley held his hand up.


    ¡°No no, she speaks for herself, isn¡¯t that right?¡± Bentley sneered. ¡°Very well then, the wager is set. What are your terms?¡±


    Ah, shit. In addition to the calendar, I still didn¡¯t know what all the currencies were called. There were other things I wanted to ask for, too, but mainly I wanted to squeeze this jerk for his money.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I called over my shoulder at the crowded tavern. ¡°Is there a prize for winning the competition?¡±


    ¡°¡®Course!¡± one man from a table full of sailors shouted. ¡°Fifty crabs!¡±


    ¡°And the free trip to the capital, don¡¯t forget that!¡± a woman at another table added.


    ¡°Ya fool, that¡¯s only if you impress the judges enough!¡± a third ranted.


    Hmm. Crabs. Right, I really needed to have Felda sit down and explain to me what all the coins were worth later.


    ¡°Then, if I win, you match the prize money. Fifty crabs,¡± I said, turning back to Bentley.


    I had no idea how much money that was, but Bentley sure did. He hesitated, casting a glance over either shoulder at his two companions. Laurence, seemingly unconsciously, was chewing on the corner of one of his nails, but he gave Bentley a quick nod. Roberto looked far less concerned, and merely gave a dismissive shrug. Bolstered, Bentely took a few more seconds to consider, before flicking his head and running a hand through his hair.


    ¡°Pssh,¡± Bentley scoffed, failing to sound not at all bothered by what I was guessing was actually a pretty solid chunk of change, even for him. ¡°Is that all?¡±


    ¡°No, actually,¡± I cut in before he could get going. ¡°When I win, you have to promise you won¡¯t go into Bonnie¡¯s shop and say shit like what I heard earlier, ever again.¡±


    Both Laurence and Roberto made dismissive noises at that, but Bentley remained still, once again sizing me up with his eyes.


    ¡°Very well. And when I win?¡± he asked.


    Well, that was an easy one.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave town,¡± I said, shrugging again. Sure, Felda and Bart were nice people, but I didn¡¯t really have anything to lose here, and I doubted my feelings would change that much over the course of a month. So if my presence was going to be such a disruption for him, and everyone else, I could just leave.


    I could just leave, I reassured myself.


    I could hear the crowd reacting to that again, but the reaction I found most interesting was Bentley¡¯s. He didn¡¯t look like I¡¯d suggested the very thing he¡¯d been hoping I would. He was no longer smirking smugly, and his shoulders had sunk a little under his cloak.


    ¡°Sam,¡± Bart spoke, suddenly appearing beside me and the trio. Even I hadn¡¯t noticed him crossing over from the side of the tavern. ¡°Wait¡ª¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s made her decision, old man,¡± Roberto said, attempting to ward Bart off with a not very impressive glower of his own. ¡°She¡¯ll reap what she¡¯s sown.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you¡¯ve butted in quite enough for one day!¡± Laurence sneered, though I suspected he only dared because he had two other people between him at Bart at the moment.


    ¡°Think this through, both of you,¡± Bart pressed on, ignoring them. ¡°This arrangement is foolish. Bentley, you got your questions answered, Sam, you¡¯ve made your point. There¡¯s no need for this to end in your exile.¡±


    Bart¡¯s eyes bored into me, and I was at first a little hurt, and a little angry, that he seemed to think I had already lost, but I figured that was just him being protective. I gave him a smile that I hoped was reassuring.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry Bart, that¡¯ll only happen if I lose, which I won¡¯t,¡± I said, moving my gaze from him, back to Bentley. ¡°So, what d¡¯you say, huh?¡±


    ¡°That¡­ would be acceptable,¡± Bentley spoke, haltingly, and slowly extended his hand towards me. ¡°I suppose we have an accord, then. We shall both enter the Midsummer Fishing Festival competition, and should you win, I will pay you fifty gold crabs and agree to hold my tongue when visiting the bakery owned by one Miss Bonnie Hopkins. But, should I win, you will leave Rower¡¯s Rest and never return.¡±


    Speaking of tongues, I had to bite mine to not react when I heard what Bonnie¡¯s full name was. She had to know, right?


    I looked down at Bentley¡¯s outstretched hand, so I wouldn¡¯t have to see Felda shaking her head at me from over his shoulder, or Bart silently trying to dissuade me from my left. When I¡¯d made the decision that I wanted to give fishing a try, I¡¯d planned to take things slow, to work my way up to the point where I could, at least in part, support myself without help, but if I agreed to this ridiculous bet, I¡¯d be putting myself under tremendous pressure to not just learn how to fish, but how to excel at it, and do it fast. If I¡¯d been thinking clearly, if I hadn¡¯t had a room full of half-drunk sailors egging me on, and if I didn¡¯t hate Bentley so much, I probably would have thought things through a little more thoroughly.


    ¡°You¡¯re on,¡± I said, reaching out and shaking Bentley¡¯s hand.

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.5

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 5


    ¡ö


    After I released Bentley¡¯s hand, he and I were left glowering at each other for several moments, until Bentley cleared his throat and turned back towards the bar.


    ¡°Well, now that that''s settled, if you would excuse me,¡± he said, climbing back onto his stool.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I said, blinking at the back of his head. I''d expected him to slink back out into the night now that he''d, ostensibly, gotten what he came here for, but instead he went right back to eating his nearly-forgotten bowl of chowder. Laurence and Roberto looked equally as lost as I felt, and the awkward silence that hung in the air was too much for me to bear.


    ¡°I''ll, uh, see you at the competition then¡­¡± I said, failing to put any real bite into it, and quickly scurried back to the corner booth, brushing past a very exasperated-looking Bart.


    What followed were several of the longest and most painful minutes of my life, as Bentley quietly and politely finished his soup. Eventually, he stood, muttering a thanks to Felda and dropped several coins onto the bar. Finally, turning on his heels with his cape swishing, he stalked back out into the night, flanked by his two flunkies.


    Several more seconds passed, before the tavern exploded. Patrons were shouting, to me, to each other, or to nobody in particular, clattering their cups and slapping the surfaces of their tables.


    ¡°Who knew a lil thing had such stones on ¡®er!¡±


    ¡°Ya see the face ¡®e made?¡±


    ¡°I tell ya what, I''m puttin¡¯ a crab down on the cat!¡±


    ¡°Oh come off it, no way she actually takes first place!¡±


    ¡°Still, ¡®bout time someone told that rotten little shit off!¡±


    Apparently, Bentley was not a very popular fellow.


    I was joined in the shadowy corner booth shortly after by Bart. He slid into the same spot as before, across from me, and sat with his massive arms crossed over his broad chest.


    ¡°Hey, look on the bright side,¡± I spoke up before he could get going. ¡°I didn''t fly off the handle this time.¡±


    ¡°Hmmh,¡± Bart made a noise I chose to interpret as a closed mouth laugh, then sighed deeply.


    ¡°That was extremely foolhardy of you, Sam,¡± Bart said.


    ¡°I know,¡± I replied, nodding and looking down at the table''s surface. ¡°I¡­ only really meant to tell him I was taking up fishing, to get him off Felda''s back.¡±


    ¡°And that''s the job you wanted to talk to me about?¡± Bart asked, and again I nodded.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I confirmed, looking up and giving him a smirk. ¡°I figured, who better to ask, right?¡±


    ¡°I''m hardly the best fisherman in the town,¡± Bart said with a shake of his head. ¡°I''m no pro, and I haven''t competed in years¡­¡±


    He broke off, fixing his eyes on mine again.


    ¡°Answer me this, Sam, why do you want to take up fishing?¡± he asked.


    There were a lot of answers I could have given. A number of ways I could have worded my answer to make it sound more well thought out and less dumb, but I kind of got the feeling Bart would be able to tell if I was fudging the truth.


    ¡°Because I like fish,¡± I stated, simply. ¡°I''d be happy enough if I just got to a point where I could fish up as much fish as I need to eat it for every meal of every day, but what I really want is to be able to make enough to pay Felda back for everything she''s given me so far, to pay for my own lodging, y¡¯know?¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Bart said, turning his head and gazing across the tavern. ¡°That''s about what I expected, but still surprising. You¡­ know that Felda would continue to put you up free of charge though, don''t you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and that''s why I can''t let her,¡± I said, earning me another look from Bart. ¡°Don''t get me wrong, I was fully ready to let her, too. But I¡­ decided I don''t want to live like that anymore. I want to at least try earning my keep for once.¡±


    Bart mulled over my words for a bit, his eyes searching me over so thoroughly I started to fidget in my seat.


    ¡°You are¡­ quite full of surprises, Sam,¡± Bart finally declared, his tone quiet and somber.


    You don''t know the half of it¡­


    ¡°In any case,¡± Bart said, clearing his throat. ¡°Seeking to earn your own wages is one thing, but I still think that wager you entered into with Bentley was foolish and ill-thought-out.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± I sighed, resting my chin in my palm. ¡°But there''s no way I''m backing out of it, if that''s what you''re getting at. There''s no telling what worse shit he might try to pull if I do. You heard him, he threatened to have Felda audited.¡±


    I started growing agitated all over again at the idea of him so blatantly trying to abuse his station (or his father''s station, more accurately) to make life difficult for Felda, just because he could, because she chose to help me out.


    ¡°Still though,¡± I continued, as Bart seemed lost in thought again. ¡°It might wind up being a blessing in disguise, the bet.¡±


    ¡°How do you figure?¡± Bart asked, looking up.


    ¡°Because, this way I can''t just decide the whole thing is too hard and quit the first time something goes wrong,¡± I said, thinking back bitterly on past experiences trying to pick up new hobbies, only to ditch them before I could get beyond the beginner''s stage.


    ¡°I¡­ suppose,¡± Bart tentatively agreed. ¡°Well, if I am to teach you to fish well enough that you even stand a chance in time for the competition, we''ll have to start as soon as possible. I''ll be here to collect you before sun up tomorrow, see to it that you''re ready.¡±


    ¡°Uh, okay, I will!¡± I hastily agreed. Not like I planned to stay up late, and I doubted this village had much of a night life. ¡°Thank you, by the way. For agreeing to teach me, even though I never actually got to ask.¡±


    ¡°Well, Felda would have my head off if I didn''t¡­¡± Bart said, and I chuckled. ¡°But, I''d be lying if I said I wasn''t interested in seeing what you''re capable of.¡±


    I beamed at that, immensely thankful that Bart had agreed to a fresh start for the both of us.


    Suddenly, the quiet moment was shattered as two figures stumbled over to the edge of our table, laughing uproariously, their arms around each other¡¯s shoulders. I could immediately tell they were fishermen, from their clothes and the way they smelled of salt and fish, and they were absolutely hammered, grinning down at me.


    ¡°¡®Ey, there she is, th¡¯ cat of the hour!¡± one of them slurred, motioning to me with the tankard in his free hand.


    ¡°C¡¯mere, lets us buy ya a drink, ta celebrate!¡± the other offered, jerking his head towards the bar.


    ¡°Oh, uh¡­¡±


    I did consider it, for a second. It hadn¡¯t occurred to me that a place like this likely didn¡¯t actually have something like a legal drinking age, which meant I probably could partake sometime. It wasn¡¯t like I¡¯d never gotten drunk before, but I doubted a few sneakily acquired beers or a couple bottles of hard lemonade passed around a party compared to a full mug of the stuff they served at an actual fantasy tavern.


    The real question was whether Felda would agree to serve me, and either way I wasn¡¯t in that big of a rush to find out.


    ¡°No thanks,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°I have to be up early tomorrow, after all.¡±


    ¡°¡®Nother time then!¡± one of the fishermen said, bobbing his head before the pair of them wandered off.


    I turned to give Bart a smirk and found him looking at me with one eyebrow raised, an incredulous look on his face. He didn¡¯t say anything, just shook his head and settled back into the booth, digging the book out of his pockets.


    After that, we sat in comfortable silence, Bart reading his book despite the dim lantern lighting, me peoplewatching the tavern. The patrons all finished their drinks and meals, either leaving piles of coins on their tables to be scooped up by Elle or Mel, or approaching the bar to hand them directly to Viktor. Several times, I noticed people pointing in my direction while paying at the counter, but it was too noisy for me to pick up what they were saying. At some point, the calls for food dwindled, while the calls for drinks tapered off slowly, but did eventually come to an end as well. Groups of fishermen, sailors, and other townsfolk helped each other stagger out into the night, back to their homes to sleep it off. Except for a handful of other people who ascended the stairs to the second floor instead; among them were Nils, a quartet of people I took from their dress to be out-of-towners, and the bird man who had been looking at me earlier.


    Once the tavern had finally fully emptied, Elle let out a whoop of excitement and bounded across the floor to the front door, closing and locking a pair of latches at the top and bottom of it. That done, she beelined for our booth, skidding to a halt in front of the table and slapping both hands down onto the surface, leaning forward on them and grinning at me so brightly I thought the dark corner would actually light up.


    ¡°Finally,¡± she sighed dramatically before perking right back up again. ¡°Now we can do this properly.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I looked to Bart for assistance, but he had somehow disappeared right out from under my nose without me noticing. That bastard must have known this was coming. Whatever this turned out to be.


    ¡°Hi,¡± Elle began, bouncing on the tips of her toes. ¡°I''m Eleanor Oakwoods, but you can call me Elle. It''s so cool to meet you!¡±


    ¡°H-hi,¡± I replied, smiling back nervously. ¡°I''m Samantha, uh, but you can call me Sam.¡±


    ¡°Sam-anth-ah, huh?¡± she asked, rolling the name around her mouth like she was tasting it. ¡°I''ve never heard that one, it''s cute. But, ¡®Sam¡¯, are you sure? Isn''t that a boy''s name?¡±


    ¡°It can be both,¡± I said quickly, almost automatically. Like at the apothecary, I couldn''t tell why I was so bothered by the idea of being ¡°mistaken¡± for a guy, but the words came out regardless.


    ¡°Huh, I guess it can,¡± Elle said. Then, a thought must have occurred to her, because her grin widened and she leaned forward again. ¡°Ooooh, what about Sammie?¡±


    ¡°Uuuh¡­¡± I furrowed my brow and rolled the nickname around in my head. It was very cutesy, and I definitely wouldn''t want to go around introducing myself to everyone by it, but I didn''t hate it. ¡°Yeah, I guess you can call me that, if you want.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Elle cheered, standing up and clapping her hands together.


    ¡°You''re going to regret that,¡± came a voice from over Elle¡¯s shoulder, as Mel appeared behind her, a stack of plates and trays in her arms. ¡°She''ll never call you anything else if you let her.¡±


    ¡°You say that like it''s a bad thing,¡± Elle said, to which Mel just rolled her one visible eye.


    ¡°Come on, we''re not off duty yet,¡± Mel said, hefting the stack of plates into Elle¡¯s arms. ¡°Get started on the dishes, I''ll be back to help once I''m done sweeping up.¡±


    ¡°Aaaaww¡­¡± Elle pouted, but accepted the stack anyway. ¡°Are you sure you don''t want me to sweep?¡±


    ¡°Nice try,¡± Mel said.


    ¡°Shoot,¡± Elle cursed, sort of, and sighed wearily. ¡°Okay Sammie, I''ll be right back.¡±


    ¡°Uh, I could come with you, if you want,¡± I said, scooting to the edge of the booth. ¡°I can help with the dishes.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Elle made a noise of surprise, but just as quickly shook her head so hard her pointed ears flapped a little. ¡°No no no, I couldn''t make you do that, you''re a guest!¡±


    ¡°Not yet, not technically,¡± I said, hopping to my feet. ¡°I still haven''t paid anything to stay here yet, lending a hand with some dishes is the least I can do.¡±


    ¡°Mmmm¡­ okay, just this once,¡± Elle relented, turning and beginning a careful march towards the kitchen. I went to follow her, but was stopped by Mel calling my name.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I asked, looking back.


    ¡°You make sure she stays focused, alright?¡± Mel said, the seriousness of her tone making it sound like she was entrusting me with a sacred mission.


    ¡°Right,¡± I said, nodding resolutely and hurrying to catch up to Elle.


    I was a little worried Felda would also try to stop me from helping out as I moved past her, but she just smiled at my passing, and then I was back inside the kitchen. I found Elle at the far-left wall, having just offloaded the stack of dishes into a very wide, very deep two-compartment sink.


    ¡°Okay, stand back. I know you¡¯re not scared of the water, but I still don¡¯t want to splash you,¡± Elle said, and I backed up a couple of steps, curious to see what she meant.


    I watched as she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and held her hands out above the sink, palms facing down.


    ¡°Water Jet!¡± she said, her voice sounding like it was layered over itself two or three times, and my curiosity gave way to amazement as twin streams of water began pouring out from her palms like faucets, flooding both of the sinks¡¯ compartments.


    ¡°Woooah¡­¡± I whispered, taking a single step closer for a better look. I¡¯d heard, from Bentley, that his friend Laurence was a mage, so I¡¯d already known magic to be a thing here in this world, but I didn¡¯t expect to get to see it so soon.


    ¡°Pretty cool, huh,¡± Elle asked, having cracked an eye open to look down at me, a grin plastered across her face again.


    ¡°Yeah, I uh, I didn¡¯t know you were a¡­¡± Was it still correct to say ¡°mage¡±, or was there some stupid system in place where only guys got to be called ¡°mages¡± and women were ¡°witches¡± or something.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not a mage or anything,¡± Elle said, giggling. ¡°I¡¯ve just picked up a couple easy spells here and there. You know how it is with elves, we¡¯re so stuffed full of mana, it¡¯s healthy to have an outlet.¡±


    I nodded along to her explanation, up until about halfway through, then I just stared at her, my eyebrows flying upwards.


    ¡°You¡¯re an elf?¡± I asked before I could stop myself. Sure, that explained the ears, but was that also the reason behind her being lemon scented? And was Mel also an elf, but of a different kind?


    Elle turned her head, apparently no longer needing to concentrate or focus on her spell, and stared back at me.


    ¡°Yeah? What did you think I was?¡± she asked, incredulous.


    Shit, right, that would be common knowledge wouldn¡¯t it.


    I scrambled for an explanation, and recalled how I¡¯d played off my shock upon meeting my first dwarf, Nils.


    ¡°Oh, well, yeah, I mean I knew you were an elf, what I meant was¡­ I¡¯ve never actually met one before?¡± I blurted out, hoping it was enough to cover my slip up.


    Elle continued to stare at me, taking a moment to look at her hands and, with some unseen trigger, cut off the supply of water now that both sinks were filled a little over halfway full.


    ¡°Wow, really?¡± she asked when she turned back to me, wiping her hands on her apron. ¡°I knew things were way different up there but I didn¡¯t think it was possible to have never met an elf before¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh¡­¡±


    Shit, she was probably talking about the same nebulous ¡°up there¡± that Bart and Felda seemed to think I came from. I still hadn¡¯t puzzled out where they meant. Maybe that was their way of saying ¡°up north?¡± If I didn¡¯t figure it out soon, someone was bound to catch on, weren¡¯t they?


    ¡°Oop, shoot, sorry!¡± Elle said, breaking me out of my worries. ¡°Felda told me not to ask about any of that, so just forget I said anything!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s, uh, it¡¯s fine,¡± I hastily assured her, waving my hands. I didn¡¯t want her thinking she¡¯d upset me, so I quickly brushed off the topic and moved to another topic, figuring this was a good chance to ask a couple questions without suspicion. ¡°So¡­ Elves are good with magic?¡±


    ¡°We can be, yeah,¡± Elle said with a nod. ¡°Mostly because we¡¯re born able to hold a lot more mana inside us than the average person, so we get a little bit of a head start.¡±


    ¡°Right, uh, mana,¡± I said. I¡¯d heard the term before, of course, it was impossible not to if you grew up playing the kinds of video games I did. It was, typically, the blue stuff next to your health that you used to cast spells with, and it sounded like that was the case in this world too. Which made it all the more interesting that they had the same name for it.


    ¡°Do you not know about mana, either?¡± Elle asked, cocking her head.


    ¡°I mean I¡¯ve heard of it, it¡¯s the stuff you use to do magic,¡± I said, hoping that was a good approximation of what someone who¡¯d only ever been told about it in passing would say. ¡°But I¡¯ve never really had it explained to me.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Elle said, smiling excitedly. It seemed like, of all the people I¡¯d met so far, she was the one most likely to take me not knowing stuff at face value. She¡¯d probably prove an invaluable source of information, as long as I was able to word my questions right.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s simple. Mana is this¡­ stuff,¡± she began, waving her hand in the air in lazy circles. ¡°It¡¯s like, this energy stuff, that¡¯s everywhere, all the time. It¡¯s in the air, it¡¯s in the dirt, it¡¯s in the water, the ocean is overflowing with it, like I said, everywhere! And so it, like, gathers in living things, like people and plants and animals, and especially fish and stuff, because they spend so much time in the ocean.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± I said, looking down at my hands. So, I had mana inside me already, just by virtue of being in this world? ¡°Okay, so, does that mean everyone can do magic?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Elle said, bouncing on her toes again, before stopping and furrowing her brow. ¡°Well, no, I mean, everyone can cast spells, yes, if they¡¯ve got enough mana for it. The simplest spells take barely any, but if you try to cast a spell that uses waaaay more mana than you have, you can make yourself sick, or like, die.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± I said, resolving to be very careful not to do anything like that. ¡°How, uh, how are you supposed to cast those then?¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s what becoming a mage is all about!¡± Elle said, giggling at my distress. ¡°Everybody starts out only able to hold so much mana inside them, like I said, but when you start learning magic and using up your mana a lot, the amount you can hold slowly gets like, bigger or deeper or something, so you can start doing bigger and cooler spells.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so, it¡¯s like a muscle,¡± I said, rebounding from my initial worry and rubbing my chin in thought. When I¡¯d heard about the ¡°Royal Academy,¡± or whatever it was, from Bentley, I¡¯d been worried that magic would be entirely unattainable, but this conversation had reignited my hopes. Sure, I¡¯d set my sights on learning to fish, but that didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t become a magic fisherman. Fisherwoman? Fishercatgirl?


    Shaking my head, my eyes fell on the sinkload of dishes, which remained untouched, and I remembered what Mel had said to me.


    ¡°Ah, shit, the dishes,¡± I blurted out, and Elle jumped.


    ¡°Oh, right!¡± she said, laughing and stepping up to the sink. She reached up to open one of the cupboards overhead, revealing several rows of tall, opaque glass bottles made of milky white glass and sealed with corks. Selecting one which had an image of a flower painted onto the front, she pulled the cork out with a pop and tilted the bottle, pouring a generous amount of a thick, green liquid into the sink with all the dishes. It hit the water and reacted very suddenly, expanding and frothing up until the entire sink was topped by a pillowy mountain of what I quickly realized were soap suds.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Elle asked, re-sealing the bottle and replacing it in the cupboard. ¡°I¡¯ll wash and rinse, and you dry and stack, okay?¡±


    ¡°Ready!¡± I declared. The area to the left of the sink already had several half-full racks of trays, plates, bowls, cups, and glasses, as well as a bin of utensils. I found a stack of folded towels waiting for me, and picked one up, waiting for Elle to begin.


    I had no trouble matching Elle¡¯s pace in terms of how quickly I could get the dishes she passed to me wiped dry, but I quickly discovered that, since only my head and shoulders were above the countertop, I had to stand on my toes to reach some of the racks. Elle, of course, noticed, and let out a few good natured giggles before pausing, telling me to wait there. She disappeared into the store room, and came back with a wooden crate, placing it in front of the counter. I balked, initially, but had no choice but to accept that, if I wanted to help and not just slow things down, I would have to use the step stool.


    The work was, well, it was boring, but at least I¡¯d been given the easiest job. After that momentary hiccup, things proceeded smoothly, though I did have to keep stopping to ask Elle where certain types of plates or cups were supposed to go. Once I got those down, we were able to work up to a decent rhythm, though I still found myself zoning in and out from the mundane task, especially when a pair of voices drifted in from the doorway.


    ¡°Where''d Sam get to?¡± Bart''s voice came first, and drew my attention to the conversation.


    ¡°She''s in the back, helping Elle with the washing up,¡± Felda replied, her tone tired but peaceful.


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± Bart said. ¡°So she really doesn''t have a problem with the water¡­¡±


    ¡°Seems that way,¡± Felda said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. ¡°You''ve really changed your tune on her since this morning, haven¡¯t you. Only took a day for her to win you over, huh?¡±


    ¡°I will, and have, admitted that I was wrong about her. She''s¡­ not like any catkin I''ve ever met,¡± Bart said, then lowered his voice before continuing. ¡°I can''t help but wonder why, but I fear the harm it would cause to press her on it. Perhaps it¡¯s best just to let things lie until she¡¯s ready to speak of it on her own.¡±


    ¡°I think that would be best,¡± Felda said, mirroring Bart''s hushed, serious tone. ¡°It''s clear to me she hasn''t lived the kind of pampered, carefree life you described before. She was convinced I would be cross with her because of the incident at the bakery. She acted like she expected me to start shouting at her at any moment, or like I was about to strike her¡­¡±


    ¡°Soliel''s grace,¡± Bart breathed, and I bit my lip at the mention of my previous breakdown in the middle of the kitchen. It hadn¡¯t been that bad, had it? Sure, my life growing up back on Earth hadn¡¯t been perfect, but I really didn¡¯t want Felda and Bart to get the wrong idea about me, to start pitying me or something.


    ¡°I know,¡± Felda said, sighing. ¡°Gods help them if I ever find out who tossed her into the ocean¡­¡±


    I''ll have a couple choice words for them too, I thought, smirking to myself. As large and intimidating as Felda was, I couldn''t really picture her actually hurting anyone, not with how kind and caring she seemed.


    ¡°Sam?¡±


    With a jolt, my attention was brought back to the kitchen, Elle¡¯s questioning voice accompanied by her poking me in the shoulder.


    ¡°S-sorry, I was just¡­ spacing out a little,¡± I said, sheepishly, realizing I''d been wiping down the same plate for half a minute.


    Elle chuckled at me, and we quickly got back into the rhythm. Shaking my head, I did my best to tune out the rest of the conversation, refocusing on the dishes. The sounds of wood and glass and metal clattering mixed together with Elle¡¯s faint humming, and the gentle splashing of water as she worked, the whole thing having a surprisingly calming effect. I took a deep breath, breathing in the lingering scents of all the meals that had recently been cooked in the kitchen, as well as the floral scented soap and Elle¡¯s own curious lemony smell. The combined sounds and smells helped to ground me, and to push away the impulse to start eavesdropping again.


    And just like that, the dishes were done.


    ¡°Thanks for the help, Sammie,¡± Elle said, grinning at me. ¡°Maybe we should ask if Felda would consider hiring you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± I said, laughing off her suggestion and shaking my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, I was never very good with getting my chores done on time. Plus, I¡¯m¡­ not actually that great when it comes to interacting with huge crowds of people, and it looks like this place gets pretty busy.¡±


    ¡°Aww, that¡¯s a shame,¡± Elle said, plunging one arm into first the right side of the sink, then the left, removing a pair of plugs and allowing the water to begin draining. ¡°I bet you¡¯d look positively adorable in the uniform!¡±


    The mental image entered my mind, unbidden, of myself, looking as I did now, in the same long-sleeved white shirt and short black dress combo that the two of them wore.


    Stop that! I shouted at my own brain. In retaliation, my mental picture did a little twirl and a cute curtsy.


    ¡°Sammie?¡± Elle asked, and I realized I¡¯d squeezed my eyes shut. I opened them and looked at her, finding her smirking at me. ¡°What¡¯cha thinkin¡¯ about?¡±


    ¡°Nothing!¡± I protested, hopping down from the wooden crate and scooping it up, pushing it into Elle¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Elle giggled, shifting the box to hold it on her hip and waving a hand at me. ¡°Your face is all red.¡±


    ¡°Nyach!¡± I yelped in frustration, bringing my hands up and clapping them over the lower half of my face. She was right, my cheeks felt like they were on fire.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I mumbled through my fingers.


    ¡°Okaaaay,¡± Elle sighed dramatically, walking past me to return the crate she¡¯d borrowed to the store room, which gave me time to get myself, and my face, back under control.


    What was I getting so worked up over? She obviously hadn¡¯t been joking when she¡¯d said she thought I might look cute, and hell, I was pretty sure I agreed with her, with how I looked now. It wouldn¡¯t raise a single eyebrow from her, or anyone else for that matter, if I did decide to wear something like that. So then, why was just the thought of it making my heart flutter and my stomach do cartwheels?


    ¡°Sorry if I embarrassed you,¡± Elle said when she returned from the store room, beating me to the chase.


    ¡°N-no, it¡¯s not that,¡± I was quick to assure her, shaking my head. ¡°I just¡­ well, I¡¯m not used to thinking about myself like that.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± Elle asked, curiously.


    ¡°As, y¡¯know¡­ ¡®cute¡¯. Or ¡®adorable,¡¯ or stuff like that,¡± I explained, which seemed to only confuse Elie more.


    ¡°Why not?¡± she asked, and I realized the hole I¡¯d dug for myself. I couldn¡¯t exactly explain that I¡¯d had an entirely different body for my entire life until literally that morning. But I had to say something.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say¡­¡± I began, tapping my chin and scrambling my brain for something that sounded like just enough of an answer to satisfy her. ¡°That I wasn¡¯t always this cute, so I¡¯m still getting used to it.¡±


    Elle just blinked at me, seeming completely flummoxed by my answer. And, thankfully, before she could try and press me for what exactly I meant, the door to the kitchen opened, and Mel stuck her head inside.


    ¡°You two about done back here?¡± Mel asked, and Elle jumped, spinning on her heels to face her friend, motioning at the stacks and rows of freshly cleaned dishes.


    ¡°Yup, we knocked ¡®em out in no time!¡± Elle declared, bounding over to the kitchen door and, thankfully, leaving the conversation behind.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Mel said, her eye roaming from the dishes, to me, to Elle. ¡°Nice job, I was half expecting to find you two completely goofing off.¡±


    ¡°Me? Goof off? Never!¡± Elle gasped in mock offense, and Mel let out an amused snort before backing out the door, allowing us to follow her back out to the bar area, where I found Felda waiting for us. I also noticed that Mel was now wearing a simple leather satchel off one shoulder, and had donned a cloak of her own, with a second one slung over her arm.


    ¡°Great work tonight, you two,¡± Felda said, reaching out and scooping up one of two identical stacks of coins from the countertop; one large coin with the unmistakable glitter of gold, and five smaller silver coins. Elle and Mel, obviously familiar with this routine, had produced a pair of drawstring coin purses from their pockets and satchel, respectively. The first stack was passed to Mel, the second to Elle, who deposited the coins into their pouches and stowed them.


    However, that still left a third collection of coins on the counter, made up of several stacks of mostly silver and copper coins, and a couple of the larger gold ones. I couldn¡¯t see Viktor anywhere; I assumed he must have already taken his pay and gone home, so I was left wondering who that pile was for.


    I didn¡¯t have to wonder long, before Felda turned to me and smiled.


    ¡°And this,¡± she said, putting one hand on my back and motioning to the stacks with the other, ¡°is all yours.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± I asked, looking back and forth from Felda to the coins, several times, before I was certain I¡¯d heard her right. ¡°Mine?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Felda confirmed, and I approached the counter, picking up one of the coins and turning it over in my hands while she continued explaining. ¡°From the customers. It started with just one or two of them leaving a little extra, saying they wanted it to go to you, to help you get on your feet, but then everyone heard about it and, well, as you can see.¡±


    ¡°Ah, geez,¡± I sighed, looking over the stacks of coins. Now that I was seeing them up close, I could tell there were actually two different types of silver coins; one like the kind I was holding, with a stylized image of a clam on one side, and a slightly smaller kind with a picture of a spiral seashell on it, both with an unknown face in profile on the opposite side. Then, there were the even smaller copper coins, which bore a trio of lumpy circles on one side, and the large gold coins, which had a picture of a crab on them.


    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t¡ª¡± I started, moving to place the coin I¡¯d picked up back on the stack, only for Felda to shake her head and place her hand on top of mine.


    ¡°I know, after everything you said about earning your keep, this might seem like charity,¡± Felda said, and I nodded, that was pretty much exactly what I¡¯d been thinking. How could I prove I was capable of taking care of myself if I were to accept a bunch of money people had just given me?


    ¡°But,¡± Felda continued, patting my back again. ¡°There¡¯s nothing shameful about accepting help, especially when you need it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Elle ventured from my other side, reminding me that she and Mel were still there. ¡°Everybody needs a little help, sometimes.¡±


    ¡°I knooow¡­¡± I sighed, trying to keep my tone from turning petulant. I wanted to protest her feeling like she needed to explain something so simple to me, as though I were a child, but I couldn¡¯t deny it was a lesson I needed to learn, whether or not I wanted to admit it out loud.


    ¡°I guess,¡± I said, taking a deep breath. ¡°I guess I can use this tomorrow to help Bart pay for supplies.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯d appreciate that,¡± Felda said, chuckling a little. ¡°But, if I could make a suggestion, it might also be best to save a bit of it for buying some clothing that actually fits.¡±


    ¡°Ah, right,¡± I said, looking down at my only other possessions besides my sandals: an ill -fitting borrowed shirt, and a pair of pants so oversized I had to roll up the legs several times to keep them from dragging in the dirt. ¡°I guess it wouldn¡¯t hurt to pick up some new clothes.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Elle cheered, and I marveled at how she could still be so chipper and energetic that late at night and after a full work shift. ¡°Oh, oh, you have to let me and Mel take you, we can go before our shifts start!¡±


    ¡°O-oh,¡± I stammered, and my first instinct was to turn her down. But, thinking it through, if I didn¡¯t take her up on her offer, that left me to either shop for clothing on my own, or to ask Felda to help, and in the face of those choices, Elle seemed like the ideal option.


    ¡°Sure, okay,¡± I said, and Elle squealed with delight and bounced in place.


    ¡°Why do I have to go?¡± Mel asked, yawning into the back of her hand.


    ¡°Because!¡± Elle declared, spinning around and grabbing her friend by the arm, pulling her towards the front door. ¡°It¡¯ll be fun, and if I don¡¯t you¡¯ll just mope around the house without me.¡±


    ¡°I like moping around the house,¡± Mel replied, unslinging the second cloak she¡¯d been carrying and throwing it over Elle¡¯s shoulders.


    Smiling to herself and shaking her head, Felda moved out from behind the bar, following them to the door. There was a round of ¡°goodbye¡±s and ¡°see you tomorrow¡±s and then the pair were gone and Felda was re-latching the door behind them. Felda sighed pleasantly and returned to the bar, stopping and propping herself up on her elbows across from me.


    ¡°Do you really have to start tomorrow?¡± Felda asked, and I got the feeling she¡¯d already asked Bart the exact same question, but probably a little less gently.


    ¡°I think so, yeah,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°The sooner I get started, the sooner I can start improving, and if I¡¯m gona win that competition, I¡¯ll need all the training and practice I can get.¡±


    Felda just looked at me with her warm, ever present smile, and I felt my face heat up a little. Eager for a distraction, I looked down at the stack of coins that still needed to be dealt with.


    ¡°I, uh¡­ I don¡¯t have anywhere to put these yet,¡± I said, and Felda laughed.


    ¡°Oh, of course,¡± she said, standing up and circling the counter, heading for the kitchen door. ¡°I have plenty of jars and empty sacks. I¡¯ll take care of them, you can go ahead and head on up to bed.¡±


    ¡°Uh, bed?¡± I asked, and she paused at the door, turning back to look at my confused tone.


    ¡°Yes, you need to rest if you¡¯re going to get up early, don¡¯t you?¡± Felda asked, and I looked towards the far set of stairs.


    ¡°Yeah, I do, but, I mean¡­ which bed?¡± I asked, hesitantly, though I suspected I already knew the answer.


    ¡°Mine, why?¡± Felda asked, genuinely confused, and confirming my suspicions.


    ¡°But,¡± I started, tilting my head towards her. ¡°Where are you going to sleep then?¡±


    Felda stared back, further furrowing her brow, before she let out a bark of laughter and shook her head.


    ¡°It¡¯s plenty big enough for both of us, Sam, you don¡¯t have to worry,¡± Felda said, and with that, pushed her way into the kitchen.


    I stood, rooted in place, as the weight of her words crashed down on me. She thought I¡¯d just been worried about us both fitting in the bed, with no hint of a thought that it would be in any way unusual for us to share the bed. Which, the more I considered it, was likely true, as far as anybody but me was concerned. I¡¯d meant to bring up the possibility of moving into one of the guest rooms, but to do so now would seem rude, would give Felda the impression I had some kind of problem with sharing the bed with her or something, which I definitely didn¡¯t. Not that I especially wanted to, either, just that I¡­ I¡­


    ¡°Nyaargh!¡± I groaned, once again bringing my hands to my head and running my claws through my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp as though that might help untangle my thoughts.


    ¡°I¡¯m too tired for this¡­¡± I sighed, then bit my lower lip. ¡°And I¡¯m talkin¡¯ to myself again. I¡¯m definitely too tired for this!¡±


    I resolved to just leave it all alone for the night, I could bring the subject up again later. Turning on my heels, I hustled towards the short set of stairs around the corner from the bar, bounding up the steps and heading for the door to Felda¡¯s bedroom.


    I found the bedroom much as I remembered it, the huge bed, the wardrobe, the writing desk. I closed the door behind me and waited while my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and while I did, I was hit with another dilemma. I only had the one set of clothes, and they were definitely not pajama material. If I took them off, that would leave me with only the pair of shorts I¡¯d put on under them, and nothing else. Nothing to cover my¡­ top half, which until that very day, had literally never been an issue.


    ¡°Uuuuugh¡­¡± I groaned to myself, taking my back off the door I¡¯d been leaning against, and starting to circle the bed. I was all set to pace and worry and overthink until Felda arrived, at which point I would probably scramble to come up with a terrible explanation for why I was so hesitant to even look at my own body, but something resting on top of the blankets caught my eye.


    It was another folded pile of clothing, made of something white that caught the moonlight coming in from the windows. Gingerly, I picked it up, unfolding it and lifting it up before me, finding myself holding a cotton sleeping shirt, and one that was clearly meant for me. It was light, and felt much softer than the shirt and pants I¡¯d been wearing all day, with short sleeves and a hem that would come down to my hips. Under the shirt I found a matching pair of shorts made of the same soft fabric, with a drawstring waist and, crucially, a hole for my tail already cut into it and sewn up around the edges.


    I felt a prickling sensation at the corners of my eyes as I realized that Felda must have recognized, and remembered, my reluctance over wearing the dress, and had procured these for me, rather than a nightgown like I¡¯d been expecting when I saw the folded garments.


    ¡°Two times is enough for one day,¡± I reprimanded myself, brushing at my eyes. I quickly slipped out of the oversized shirt and pants and into the comparatively heavenly pajamas, finding the soft cotton much more airy and breezy and easy to move around in.


    Mindful of the fact that Felda would be up shortly herself, I only spent a few seconds looking at myself in the mirror in this new outfit. No more than ten, I swear.


    Then, just in time to hear Felda¡¯s heavy footfalls ascending the short staircase, I dove under the covers, getting myself situated with my head resting on one of the many pillows by the time the door opened again.


    ¡°Did you find the¡ª¡± Felda started to ask.


    ¡°Yes!¡± I blurted out, cutting her off in my over-eagerness to express my gratitude. ¡°I mean, y-yes, I did, they¡¯re very very comfortable, thank you¡­¡±


    Chuckling tiredly, Felda crossed the room. She¡¯d come in carrying a lit lantern, the light momentarily too bright for eyes, accustomed to the dark as they were. Setting the lantern on her desk, she moved to her wardrobe, and I knew that was my cue to roll over in the bed and look the other way. It might not be that big of a deal for me to spend the night sleeping in her bed, but I was definitely not going to just watch her undress.


    Eventually, after whatever was happening behind me, I felt the bed shift, and Felda¡¯s no doubt substantial weight settling into place beside me. True to her word, the bed was more than wide enough to accommodate her and me, with even a generous gap between us if I kept myself up against the edge.


    ¡°Uhm¡­¡± I whispered, unsure. I felt like there was so much I should say, could say, needed to say.


    ¡°Mmmh?¡± Felda hummed softly. ¡°What is it, Sam?¡±


    Did I thank her, again, for everything? Did I spill my guts and tell her who I really was and where I really came from? Did I solemnly vow that, no matter what it took, I would repay her kindness and generosity a hundred times over?


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Goodnight,¡± I said, chancing a glance over my shoulder to find Felda, smiling patiently at me.


    ¡°Goodnight, Sam. Sera watch over you in your dreams,¡± Felda replied, lifting one of her hands from her chest and reaching over, gently bringing it down on top of my head. She kept it there for only a few seconds, lightly patting the space between my ears, but in that time I felt so flushed with warmth and contentment that I could have drifted off to sleep in seconds. It was almost as good as biting into some delicious fried fish.


    Just before she pulled her hand away, I became aware of a dull rumbling noise, the source of which I initially couldn¡¯t identify. It was deep, and I could feel it vibrating inside my chest, like the feeling of standing next to a car that was playing music with the bass turned all the way up. It was only after Felda stopped petting my head, and I felt the thrumming slowly start to dwindle, that I realized what it was, and where it was coming from.


    It was purring, and it was coming from me.


    With a yawn, I pulled the blankets up, making a lazy mental note to save the freaking out about that for tomorrow.


    ¡ö


    It seemed like no time at all had passed before I was being gently nudged awake by Felda, cracking my eyes open and finding her standing over me.


    ¡°Bwuh¡­?¡± I groaned out, confused. The sun was still down, and Felda once again held a lantern in her other hand. I squinted at her while she chuckled at my grogginess.


    ¡°Bart''s waiting downstairs,¡± she explained quietly, and I groaned again, freeing one of my arms from the blankets so I could slap at my forehead.


    ¡°Riiiiight, fishing¡­¡± I huffed, remembering our arrangement.


    ¡°I told you you should wait a day or two,¡± Felda said, shaking her head. ¡°I''ll tell him to come back a little later.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I yelped, scrambling to sit upright and untangle myself from the blankets. I jumped to my feet and immediately regretted it when I felt how chilly the wooden floors were. The room was cold in general, a consequence of it still being so early and the tavern being right up on the water, I assumed.


    ¡°Have to buy some socks,¡± I muttered as I found my clothes from the day before waiting on the side table. I started to pull the pajamas off, but paused, turning my head to find Felda still standing there, Lantern in hand.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go tell Bart you¡¯ll be right down,¡± Felda said with a smile, turning and proceeding out of the room.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I called after her, then resumed changing. I was going to have to ask about getting a room of my own, but at least Felda was very accommodating and understanding in the meantime.


    Shortly after, I stepped off the staircase into the eerily quiet, moonlit front room of the tavern, finding Bart seated at the bar waiting for me. I couldn¡¯t see Felda anywhere, but as I approached, I became aware of the sounds of clattering and bustling from the kitchen.


    ¡°Might as well sit,¡± Bart said, nodding to the stool next to his. ¡°Felda said she won¡¯t let me take you out without breakfast first.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, hopping into the offered seat. Bart was already reading his book, so rather than trying to force my still half-asleep brain to try and come up with some small talk, I just slumped forward and let my head rest on the cool countertop.


    I was able to catch a few more minutes of sleep before Felda was nudging me awake again, this time with a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, and a mug of something steaming. Sitting up, she placed both in front of me, and I gave each a quick sniff. The eggs caught my attention first because mixed in with the smell of, well, eggs, was something extra, something sweet and buttery. The contents of the mug were more surprising however, as I immediately identified it from the smell alone.


    ¡°Is that coffee?¡± I asked, failing to keep the surprise out of my voice.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Felda confirmed, and I saw she had a mug of her own cupped in her hands, as did Bart beside me.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, shaking off the shock. It wasn¡¯t that surprising, really, considering all the other stuff that I¡¯d already seen to exist in this world. Really, considering how old it was, it would actually be more surprising if this place didn¡¯t have coffee, or some kind of equivalent.


    However, there was still one more obstacle in the way of me being able to enjoy it.


    ¡°Er¡­¡± I began, once again unsure if the question I was about to raise would be the one that gave me away as a complete stranger to this world. ¡°I don¡¯t usually drink my coffee black, could I get some milk, and, uh, sugar?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Felda said, a laugh bubbling up in her throat. ¡°Of course, after the lemonade, I should have figured you wouldn¡¯t like the bitter taste. Let me get those for you.¡±


    She set her mug down and returned to the kitchen, and returned before I knew it with a small corked jug and a round ceramic container, white with a blue stripe around the top.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have milk on hand but I do have cream,¡± Felda explained, setting the containers down on the bar.


    ¡°That¡¯s perfect,¡± I said, picking up the jug first. It was cold, but that wasn¡¯t remarkable; Felda almost certainly had someplace cold to store things, she ran a restaurant. I poured a generous few dribbles of the rich-looking cream into my mug, then lifted the lid of the round container, finding it full of sugar that was faintly tinted blue. It even seemed to be slightly illuminating the inside of the container, I noticed. Using the spoon I¡¯d been provided, I scooped out a couple generous spoonfuls and stirred them into my now much paler coffee, and finally lifted it to take a sip.


    I¡¯d been expecting to be surprised by the taste, for it to be in some way alien, to not taste quite like what I was used to from my past coffee drinking experience. Instead, in what was either my most or least surprising discovery so far, it tasted like any other cup of coffee I¡¯d ever had, and I let out a long, low sigh of contentment as I swallowed that first sip. With my eyes closed, I could almost imagine I was back home, sitting in my kitchen, eating my breakfast and drinking my coffee before I had to catch the bus.


    Then, Bart made a noise beside me, and I opened my eyes, finding myself still inside the Crooked Hook. Once again, I expected to find myself feeling melancholic, or homesick, yearning to return to my old life on Earth after being reminded of it so strongly. Instead, I simply¡­ wasn''t, and I had no idea why.


    With a sigh, I resolved to shelve the issue for later. I had a busy day ahead of me.


    Leaning forward, I finally tucked into the pile of eggs, and discovered what was different about them. Mixed in with the fluffy, airy scrambled eggs were sweet, savory chunks of lobster meat, or something similar. The buttery taste combined with the eggs perfectly, the hints of sea salt and pepper tying the whole thing together into a wonderful breakfast.


    And, since I''d been made aware of it last night, I was able to notice the second I started purring from the delicious taste.


    Have I been doing that the whole time?


    It was a little embarrassing to think about, that any time I was feeling too good, I might start projecting that information to everyone within earshot. I liked to think I played things close to the chest, and the purring was definitely going to make that harder.


    Another thing for the shelf, I decided, and just kept on enjoying my eggs.


    ¡°That was delicious, thank you,¡± I said, once I was finished. ¡°But you didn''t need to go to that much expense just for me.¡±


    ¡°You''re welcome,¡± Felda said, smiling and taking another sip of her coffee. Then, she looked up, confused. ¡°What expense? The eggs?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no,¡± I said, just as confused.


    ¡°The coffee?¡± Felda put forth, and I shook my head.


    ¡°No, no, the lobster. Isn¡¯t it expensive?¡±


    Felda thought for a moment, then let out a gentle laugh.


    ¡°Lobster isn''t an expense,¡± she explained, and felt my eyes going wide and my ears perking up. ¡°I can see how you might think that, you wouldn¡¯t see them much up there, but that¡¯s not because it¡¯s expensive. Lobsters are overly plentiful bottom-feeders, so folks that think too highly of themselves don¡¯t like to eat them. Their loss, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±


    ¡°O-oh, right,¡± I stammered, nodding. ¡°I must have been getting it mixed up with something else.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Felda nodded in understanding, and I sighed internally. That had been an easy one to brush off, but I continued to worry that it was only a matter of time before I made a major slip-up.


    ¡°Well, finish your coffee, we''ve got to get going,¡± Bart urged me, earning a look from Felda.


    ¡°R-right!¡± I replied, lifting my mug and polishing off the last of the coffee in several gulps.


    Full and energized, I hopped to my feet and moved to follow Bart to the door, but paused, and spun back around.


    ¡°Oh, right, Felda, where''s the money from last night?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I have it right here,¡± she said, bending down and reaching under the bar, producing a small brown sack, setting it before me.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, opening the sack and peering inside. I didn''t want to take the whole thing, especially since I didn''t have anything to carry it in but my own hands, and I also didn''t want to spend it all in one place. I plucked out one of the gold coins, and two mixed handfuls of the other silver and copper coins, dropping them into my pockets and jangling my way over to the door where Bart was waiting.


    ¡°What''s this about money?¡± Bart asked when I arrived.


    ¡°A bunch of people last night, uh, donated extra money when they paid their bills,¡± I explained. ¡°I didn''t want to keep it, but I figured using it to help you pay for the supplies we''ll be buying is better than keeping it for myself.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ see,¡± Bart said, shrugging after a moment. ¡°If that is what you wish, I won''t stop you.¡±


    With that, he bent and picked up three objects that had been left beside the door: a squat, rectangular wooden case with a pair of handles on top that resembled a toolbox, a larger cube-shaped container made of some shiny black material I couldn¡¯t identify, and a much longer, thinner case that was taller than he was, which he slung over his shoulders. I hurried to open the door, since he had his hands full, and once again Bart and I headed off together, this time continuing along the docks instead of turning left and heading into the village.


    As we walked, I had a chance to observe this new segment of the village: the docks, and all the other shops and facilities located right up on the water, as well as the bay itself. The docks themselves were far from bustling, but they weren''t deserted as I¡¯d been expecting. Other early risers¡ªfishermen preparing for their days, dock workers bustling onto and off of the docked ships¡ªwere everywhere, and I could feel their stares on my back as we passed by.


    In a way, it was almost like being back in high school. I suspected most, if not all the fishermen, at the very least, had heard about me challenging the mayor''s son, and I wouldn''t be surprised if word was spreading across the whole town.


    ¡°I guess I should have expected this¡­¡± I mumbled to myself.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Bart asked, turning his head slightly.


    ¡°For everyone to have their eyes on me. I made quite a spectacle of myself last night, even though you warned me not to,¡± I said, keeping my gaze fixed forward, glad that Bart was once again slowing his pace to allow me to keep up with him.


    ¡°Mmmh,¡± Bart grunted, nodding and casting a glance to the side, meeting the eyes of some of the onlookers. ¡°That you did. Try not to let the attention get to you. You may be an exciting oddity now, but people will grow used to you eventually.¡±


    ¡°Uh, thanks,¡± I said, unsure if I was supposed to take being called an ¡°exciting oddity¡± as a compliment or not.


    Eventually, thankfully, we reached our first destination, a wide, squat shop crouched on the docks between two taller buildings. Its front featured a door centrally located between two wide display windows, in which I could see several fishing poles propped up on racks, facing the docks. The air that rushed out as I opened the door was heavily tinged with a dozen different scents, most of them pungent and briny, some of them more dank and earthy.


    ¡°Ooh, bait,¡± I said as I got a look at the interior of the shop, which featured racks upon racks of fishing supplies; spools of line, hooks, lures, and more kinds of reels than I even knew existed. One wall of the shop featured two rows of square bins like one might find in a candy store, except they were filled not with sweet treats, but all manner of squirming, wriggling worms and bugs and other things I wasn¡¯t quite sure how to identify. There were even a couple small tanks filled with hundreds of tiny fish, that my eyes were drawn to almost magnetically the instant I noticed them.


    ¡°Mornin¡¯, Bart,¡± called the owner, a large man standing behind the counter. He was older, not quite as old as Bart, but he still looked like he could bench press about ten of me. His hair was a pale blond, the color of straw, and he had an impressive broom-like mustache that connected to an equally impressive pair of mutton chops. The whole thing came together to make him look a bit like a big friendly walrus.


    ¡°Morning, Hubert,¡± Bart replied, leaving the taller case and the black chest by the door and approaching the counter, setting the remaining wooden box on top of it.


    ¡°Is this the girl, then?¡± Hubert asked, fixing his eyes on me.


    ¡°Hi,¡± I said, waving over the counter. ¡°I¡¯m Sam.¡±


    ¡°Heh,¡± Hubert chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. ¡°Mornin¡¯, Sam. I¡¯ve heard a lot about you.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah?¡± I asked, unsure if he meant that in a positive way or not.


    ¡°I hear you¡¯re goin¡¯ to win the Midsummer Fishing Festival,¡± he said, leaning over the counter and resting on one elbow, scrutinizing me closely. I tried to meet his gaze head on, but a flash of silver in the corner of my vision drew my eye, and I found myself breaking eye contact to stare at the tanks full of tiny fish again.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Hubert laughed again. ¡°Well, she''s certainly got the eyes of an angler!¡±


    ¡°Is it ready?¡± Bart asked, and I managed to wrench my eyes off the fish tank and back to him.


    ¡°Aye, I''ve got ¡¯er in the back, just finished double checkin¡¯ ¡®er,¡± Hubert said, lifting off the counter and turning towards an open doorway behind him. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder at me and then added, ¡°don''t let ¡®er eat all my minnows while I''m gone.¡±


    ¡°I won''t!¡± I shouted in protest, huffing indignantly at Hubert''s receding laughter. I hadn''t even considered doing something like that, but now that he''d said it, I found myself wondering if I could actually eat one of the tiny finger-sized fish in one bite.


    Thankfully, Hubert wasn''t gone long enough for me to leave the counter, and he came back carrying a case similar to the one Bart had left by the door, but a little less long.


    ¡°¡®Ere she is,¡± Hubert said, laying the case across the counter and flipping the pair of latches at either end, lifting the lid and revealing, what else, a fishing pole.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said, because it was still a pretty impressive fishing pole, even I could tell just by looking at it. It had a short handle connected to the main body, a length of pale wood longer than I was tall that tapered to a narrow point, with several thin metal loops spaced evenly along the length. My eyes were drawn to the reel attached at the base, a contraption of polished metal in a cylindrical shape, with a two-pronged crank jutting out to one side. Like the coffee earlier, I was momentarily taken aback by how much it resembled just an ordinary fishing pole from my world, but in the end I supposed that shouldn¡¯t be that surprising; there were only so many shapes a tool designed to hold a line and reel it back in could take.


    ¡°Go on, see how it feels,¡± Bart urged, and I looked up at him, blinking.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    I looked from him to the pole, then back again.


    ¡°This is mine?¡± I asked, and when Bart nodded, I carefully reached into the case and lifted it out, finding it surprisingly light. The handle was comfortable, and felt like it was made from some kind of foam or sponge, the material molding to my grip.


    ¡°This¡­ feels way too nice for something I can afford,¡± I started to say, only for Bart to hold his hand up.


    ¡°It¡¯s already paid for,¡± he said, and I felt a familiar urge to protest well up inside me, but squashed it back down as he continued. ¡°I know you would have liked to pay for it with your own funds, but if you¡¯re intending to take up fishing, if you intend to seriously devote yourself to it, I want you to have a rod that fits you properly from the very start.¡±


    ¡°Bart¡­¡± I sighed, the light-weight pole suddenly feeling heavier in my hands.


    ¡°He ain¡¯t lyin¡¯,¡± Hubert cut in, leaning on the counter again and gesturing at the pole. ¡°Woke me up in the middle of the night, offered to pay me double if I could get it done before sunrise. With your, if you¡¯ll excuse me for sayin¡¯ so, unique proportions, none a¡¯ the rods I carry woulda fit you well, I think you¡¯d find.¡±


    Turning my head, I eyeballed several of the other rods hanging from the walls and propped up in the windows. While the one I held was taller than I was, it was only by about a foot or so, while all the others looked to be much longer, and probably that much more unwieldy.


    Looking down, I noticed far too late that the handle for the reel was on the right side, as opposed to the left like on all the other poles I could see. Holding the pole in my left and bringing my right hand up, I gripped one of the handles and slowly rotated it, feeling the smooth action.


    ¡°How¡¯d you know I was left-handed?¡± I asked Bart, looking up and finding him looking, of all things, a little embarrassed.


    ¡°I, ah, noticed it yesterday, from the way you eat and drink, that you favor your left,¡± Bart explained, bringing a hand up and scratching at his stubbly face while looking to the side. ¡°I have met a fair few similar folk in my time, those that favor their left when wielding a sword or casting a spell, and I figured it would be no different for handling a fishing rod.¡±


    I turned the crank a few more times while I thought. He¡¯d clearly spent a lot on ensuring the whole thing was top quality, from the soft, comfortable grip to the light yet sturdy body, down to the customized reel. If anything, it showed that Bart believed in me, maybe more than I believed in myself, maybe more than I deserved. If I accepted this gift, I really would have to do my utmost best to ensure that Bart¡¯s trust in me wasn¡¯t misplaced.


    With a resigned sigh, I nodded my head.


    ¡°Yeeeeeeah,¡± I conceded with a groan, placing the pole back inside the case. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right, but you have to let me pay you back for some of this stuff sometime.¡±


    ¡°The best reward you can give me is dutifully absorbing my teachings and winning the competition,¡± Bart declared, straightening his back and clearing his throat. I smirked a little as he resumed his usual gruff attitude, the one I was quickly beginning to see as more and more of an act.


    ¡°Thank you, Bart,¡± I said.


    ¡°You are welcome, Sam,¡± Bart replied, turning to face the counter and opening the other box he¡¯d brought with him, the squat rectangular one, revealing a spacious interior decorated with many compartments. ¡°And, if you still wish to, you may purchase our supplies for the day. We need bait, and you¡¯re going to need tackle of your own.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right!¡± I said, approaching the counter. ¡°I, uh, don¡¯t actually know the first thing about what I¡¯m going to need¡­¡±


    ¡°I will collect a few things and let you look them over,¡± Bart offered, taking a step towards the middle shelves. ¡°In the meantime, you and Hubert can take care of your license.¡±


    I nodded, following along with everything Bart said right up until that last bit, when it felt like my brain had suddenly malfunctioned, because I was sure I had to have heard him wrong.


    ¡°My what?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Your fishing license,¡± Bart clarified, and I was forced to accept that I was not hearing things.


    ¡°I can only get ya¡¯ set up with a beginner¡¯s license, I¡¯m afraid,¡± Hubert continued when I turned back to him as though he might make more sense. ¡°If you want to move up to a full one, you¡¯ll need to speak to one of the druids at the Hunter¡¯s Guild.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, of course,¡± I said, playing along while my mind shuffled things around to make room for this new information. It made sense, after a few seconds of thinking about it, for a society as reliant on fishing as this one to have some kind of regulations in place, but I hadn¡¯t expected it to be so¡­ familiar.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get started with your name,¡± Hubert said, reaching into a drawer and withdrawing a postcard-sized piece of paper, an old-fashioned looking sharp-tipped pen held in his other hand.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s, uh, Sam¡­¡± I began to answer, when my already unbalanced train of thought promptly derailed completely, leaving me staring blankly ahead as I realized how much of a colossal mistake I¡¯d made.


    How¡­ could I not realize¡­


    I mentally berated myself for, somehow, not realizing both how ridiculous my temporary fake first name paired with my actual last name, and how utterly made up on the spot said last name was going to sound when I was using it to apply for a fishing license.


    Well¡­ it¡¯s probably too late to decide to become a farmer or something, I concluded with a shake of my head to clear out my thoughts, looking up to the still expectant-looking Hubert.


    ¡°Ahm¡­ My name is¡­ Samantha Fisher,¡± I finished, and as expected, Hubert¡¯s face went on a complicated journey before he ultimately lowered the pen to the paper and silently scratched out my answer.


    ¡°Right then,¡± Hubert said, looking up again. ¡°Age?¡±


    ¡°Nineteen,¡± I answered, which seemed to earn me an even more incredulous look than my name.


    ¡°You¡¯re nineteen years old?¡± Hubert asked, and I furrowed my brow. I knew I was short now but was it that hard to believe?


    ¡°Yes,¡± I confirmed, and he shrugged and bent down to write again.


    ¡°As you say,¡± he said, then, flicking his eyes up, added in a quieter tone, ¡°just so you know, when you go to apply for your full license, the druids do have magic to ensure you¡¯re telling the truth¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying!¡± I shot back, and Hubert waved his hand placatingly.


    ¡°Alright, alright, I suppose I have never met one of your kind before,¡± Hubert conceded, and I accepted that as the best I was likely to get.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s see,¡± Hubert continued, looking back and forth from the form he was filling out to me several times. ¡°Hair¡­ orange. Eyes¡­ green. Height, mmm¡­ how tall are you, girl?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, I¡¯m not sure, I think like¡­ a little under five feet?¡±


    ¡°Feet?¡± Hubert asked, and I cursed internally. Was that not a unit of measurement in this world? Had I just said something completely and totally obviously alien? Hubert was once again scrutinizing me closely, his broomhandle mustache twitching slightly.


    ¡°We use the span down here,¡± he said, and I let out a breath I¡¯d been holding for several seconds. ¡°Looks to me you¡¯re about five and half spans, but they¡¯ll get the exact measurement when you go in for your full license.¡±


    ¡°O-oh?¡± I said, scratching the back of my head. I had no clue what a span was, and I knew that it was likely just because of the way the conversion worked out, but not having my height begin with a four made me feel slightly better.


    ¡°Right then, if I could just get you to sign here and here,¡± Hubert said, turning the paper around and offering me the pen, then hesitating. ¡°Ah, wait, I forgot. I can just put an X for you, if you¡¯ll allow me.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, furrowing my brow. Then, when the realization came, I snapped, ¡°I know how to write!¡±


    ¡°Oh, well, pardon me then,¡± Hubert said, far too casually, passing the pen into my outstretched hand.


    Still bristling a little, I looked down at the slip of paper which, sure enough, looked like a temporary license, albeit one printed on paper that was much more coarse than I was used to, and also wasn¡¯t pure white, but a bit of a sandy tan color. Interestingly, there were two copies of the same form, split horizontally down the middle, and Hubert had filled in both of them. The lines of information I¡¯d already given were there in Hubert¡¯s slightly oversized handwriting, while the lines and instructions looked like they''d been typed rather than written. For a few seconds, I could only blink and stare at the paper, as the words on it, both pre-printed and what Hubert had written down, refused to resolve into anything I could understand. Just as I was about to panic at the notion that I couldn¡¯t actually read the language of this world, I blinked one more time, and found the words snapping into focus.


    Huh¡­


    Something about the bold, black inked letters felt distinctly off, like looking at them caused a tickle in my brain, but I couldn¡¯t waste time trying to figure out what it was with Hubert waiting for me to sign, so I just brought the pen down and hoped my quick scribble passed for a proper signature.


    Turning the paper back around, Hubert spent several seconds looking at what I¡¯d scrawled before silently shrugging, and reaching under the counter again. He came back with a round, wood-handled stamp, which he quickly and smoothly used to mark the bare spaces in the bottom left of both copies of the license that had been left blank, before folding the paper in half and then neatly ripping it at the crease, handing one of the halves over to me.


    ¡°There ya are, Miss Fisher,¡± Hubert said, sliding the other copy back into the drawer.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, pausing only a moment to once again stare at the words written on it before carefully folding it and slipping it into my pockets with all the loose coins. I¡¯d already made a mental note to buy some kind of bag when I went shopping with Elle and Mel, but I quickly went back and underlined it.


    ¡°Now, ordinarily, there¡¯s a lot more I¡¯m meant to do before I give you that license, give you a whole rundown on the area, quiz you on the rules, make sure you know which fish you can and can¡¯t keep,¡± Hubert said, leaning down and lowering his voice conspiratorially. ¡°But, since you¡¯re with Bart, I know he¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re up to speed on all that. Just don¡¯t go tellin¡¯ the druids I let you out¡¯a here without that speech, aye?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, sure,¡± I whispered back. I definitely didn¡¯t want Hubert getting in trouble for helping us out.


    ¡°Good,¡± Hubert said, the corners of his mustache turning up in a smile. Then, his gaze wandered over my shoulders and he made an amused noise, shaking his head.


    ¡°Y¡¯know, I got to say, I don¡¯t know how you did it, but I ain¡¯t seen Bart like this in years,¡± he said quietly, and glanced over my shoulder at the older man, his arms now loaded with several odd items.


    ¡°Like what?¡± I asked, eager for a bit of insight into Bart that didn¡¯t require prying it out of him directly.


    ¡°Excited,¡± Hubert explained fondly. ¡°And happy, happy enough to show it. I¡¯ve known Bart a good long time now, since he first showed up here, but I¡¯ve rarely seen this side of ¡®im the last few years.¡±


    ¡°...Really? Are we talking about the same Bart?¡± I asked, since in the short time I¡¯d known him it seemed like he was just stoic by nature.


    ¡°Aye, course,¡± Hubert nodded, giving me a look. ¡°Still keeps to himself a lot, y¡¯know, and aside from that tavern owner and the dwarf, I don¡¯t think he¡¯s got many other friends.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± I said, a bit less excited about this new information than I¡¯d anticipated.


    ¡°But, that¡¯s why it warms me ol¡¯ heart, seein¡¯ him take to you so quickly. Whatever it is you¡¯re doin¡¯, keep it up,¡± Hubert said, reaching across the counter to clap a hand on my shoulder.


    I just nodded my head, and, not for the first time, wondered if I¡¯d made a mistake in thinking I¡¯d be perfectly fine with up and leaving this little village behind if I lost the competition.


    By then, Bart returned to the counter, having finished collecting everything he thought I was going to need to begin my fishing career: two dozen plain hooks in various sizes, a pair of larger and more elaborate hooks with bits of metal and small clusters of feathers attached, a handful of metal balls of varying weights (¡°Sinkers.¡± said Bart), several teardrop-shaped objects made of painted wood (¡°Bobbers.¡±), and a large spool of a delicate looking, glass-colored thread that Bart identified as silk from a ghost spider.


    ¡°It¡¯s more expensive, but it will also last you much longer, and is able to handle a much wider range of weights, so you won¡¯t have to switch spools when you start seeking out larger fish,¡± Bart explained when I asked. I found it kind of charming, how eager he was to explain anything and everything about fishing to me at the drop of a hat. I had to not let Hubert¡¯s fond words get to me, or I was worried I¡¯d start tearing up again.


    ¡°Neat,¡± I said, while Bart continued to load the rest of what he¡¯d picked out into what he called his ¡°tackle box.¡± He also placed on the counter several containers; three smaller metal tins with slotted lids that were filled with various baits, and a lidded metal bucket about the size of a paint tin, which I quickly realized was filled with water and a generous helping of the minnows I¡¯d been eyeing up earlier.


    I should have eaten a bigger breakfast.


    ¡°Well then, if that¡¯s all for today, then that¡¯ll be two and a half crabs,¡± Hubert declared, and Bart obligingly turned to me and motioned with his hands. Grinning, I dug my hands into my pockets.


    ¡°Uuuhh¡­¡± I stalled, realizing I wasn¡¯t actually sure I could cover that with what I¡¯d brought. I pulled out the two handfuls I had and laid them out on the counter, hoping I didn¡¯t look as lost as I felt.


    I had one of the golden coins with a crab on it, and I passed that over, but then I paused, looking over the several remaining silver coins.


    ¡°Not quite used to the currency here, huh?¡± Hubert asked, once it became obvious I didn¡¯t know what I was supposed to hand over next.


    ¡°Y-yeah, sorry,¡± I said sheepishly, but he just chuckled and shook his head.


    ¡°Nothin¡¯ wrong with that,¡± he said, bending forward and pointing at one of the slightly larger of the two kinds of silver coins. ¡°You¡¯ve got enough there, ten clams is the same as a crab, so I just need fifteen more.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, thanks,¡± I said, quickly plucking up fifteen clams and dropping them into his outstretched palm before scooping the remainder back into my pockets. It was nice to have one thing cleared up, at least.


    ¡°Well, good luck out there you two,¡± Hubert said as Bart closed up the tackle box and lifted it off the counter.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Bart said, then turned to me and nodded his head at the bucket. ¡°Will you be alright carrying the minnows?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to eat them!¡± I said, before realizing that was probably not what he meant. His slight smile told me as much, and after slinging the case with my fishing pole over my back, I hefted the bucket off the counter. I had to use both hands, cursing my much scrawnier arms, and followed Bart back to the door, where he retrieved the rest of his gear.


    Once we had everything situated, we set out once more, continuing down the docks.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ll make it to the river with time to spare,¡± Bart said, casting a glance at the pale horizon, which was still not showing any signs of lightening any time soon.


    ¡°The river?¡± I asked. ¡°We¡¯re not goin¡¯ out on the ocean?¡±


    ¡°Ah, uh, no, not for your first time,¡± Bart said, looking sideways at me again. ¡°You¡¯re less likely to hook something that could yank you off your feet in the river, and less likely to drown if you do fall in.¡±


    ¡°What? Drown?¡± I asked, and once again Bart paused to give me another of his searching looks.


    ¡°Well, I suppose some parts of the river might be over your head, but I¡¯ll be there to pull you out,¡± Bart said placatingly.


    I stared at him until his meaning clicked, then started to laugh. I honestly couldn¡¯t blame him; even after my display in the bar last night with the glass of water, it was still probably harder to believe, and not the first thing he would assume.


    ¡°Bart,¡± I said, catching my breath and meeting his confused gaze. ¡°I know how to swim.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Bart said, confirming beyond a doubt that he had believed the exact opposite. Rolling his shoulders and adjusting the case on his back, he cleared his throat before continuing. ¡°Well, you¡¯ll forgive me if I ask to see for myself first. But, if that is the case, then, I suppose I have one less thing to worry about once we do head out to sea. But, regardless, we still can¡¯t today, the license you have only allows you to fish inland.¡±


    ¡°Huh, really? I guess that makes sense,¡± I said, conceding the point.


    ¡°Was there¡­ any trouble, getting the license done?¡± Bart asked with a momentary pause that he tried to hide.


    ¡°No, why?¡± I asked, transferring the bucket to my other hand and digging the slip of paper from my pocket, holding it up for Bart to look over. ¡°See?¡±


    ¡°Ah, good, I¡ª¡± Bart began what I assumed was going to be a perfectly executed brush off, but then he stopped dead in his tracks and pulled a textbook double take at my license before looking me directly in the eye and asking the question I had a feeling I was going to become increasingly tired of answering in the next few days.


    ¡°You¡¯re nineteen years old?¡±


    ¡ö


    Eventually, Bart and I arrived at the river.


    We''d followed the docks until they came to an end, disappearing into the rocky beach ahead. Following a footpath, we skirted around the edges of the last few outlying buildings until we came to the wide main road, then started following that, quickly leaving the village behind. There wasn¡¯t anything like a gate to pass through, but one of the last few buildings we passed on our way out was a tall, narrow building which Bart pointed out to me, identifying it as a guard tower and the three figures I could see milling around in front of it as members of the town guard.


    We stayed on the well-worn road until it started to bend, at which point Bart led us off the path, into the grassy plains that stretched towards the forests and mountains in the distance. We found the river shortly after, a quick-flowing body of water about fifteen feet across. I expected us to stop there, but, at Bart''s insistence, we followed the river upstream for several minutes, until it widened out into a slow flowing pond, stopping beside a large old tree that bent down over the water.


    ¡°This place is so¡­ nice,¡± I declared, taking a moment to catch my breath after setting the bucket of minnows down. I''d taken notice of the picturesque wilderness before, but standing there in the pale pre-dawn light, listening to the gentle rushing of water and taking in the sights of distant snow-capped mountains, the nearby forests, and the few farms I could see, I couldn''t help but be overcome with an overwhelming sense of peace and appreciation.


    ¡°Aye, Torgard is indeed a beautiful place,¡± Bart agreed, depositing the rest of our equipment beneath the tree and pausing for a few moments to take in the view with me. I was reminded of something that Hubert had said that had stuck out, that Bart had not been born here in Rower¡¯s Rest, but arrived from somewhere else. I couldn¡¯t help but be a little curious, but I knew better than to try and ask where he¡¯d come from, if I didn¡¯t want to end up having to answer the same question.


    ¡°Wait until the sun rises, then you¡¯ll be able to see even more,¡± Bart said, prompting me to look at him curiously. Then, realization struck again and I remembered that I had much better eyes than him, as I could certainly already see clearly across the fields even without the sun. That did make me wonder how Bart himself had navigated us here, but I figured this must be a spot he was intimately familiar with.


    I thought about correcting him, but reconsidered. If I drew attention to one of my elevated senses, it might lead him to question how many others followed suit, and I did not want to interrupt the peaceful morning by having to explain how I¡¯d been eavesdropping on him and Felda all day yesterday. I knew that was a conversation I was going to have to have at some point, but I saw no harm in putting it off a little longer.


    ¡°Well,¡± Bart spoke, breaking the comfortable silence. ¡°Speaking of the sunrise, if we want to get underway before it comes, we should get started.¡±


    ¡°Right!¡± I said, feeling an unexpected excitement building within me as I unslung the case from my back. ¡°So, what''s first?¡±


    ¡°First, you need to spool your reel,¡± Bart said, reaching into the tackle box and drawing out the spool of silk line. I nodded and knelt, opening the case and once again taking the fishing pole into my hands.


    ¡°Now, do you see the hole in the middle of that bar?¡± Bart asked, indicating a small bar that crossed the middle of the empty reel. When I nodded, he unspooled a length of silk and held the end out to me. ¡°Good, take this and loop it through, then tie it to the bar.¡±


    I did as instructed and, upon Bart''s prompting, began reeling in the line while he held the spool sideways.


    ¡°That''s good,¡± Bart said, explaining, ¡°you want the line going into the reel in the same direction as it comes off the spool, to ensure it doesn''t become twisted. That can cause it to bunch up or become knotted, and can lead to problems when you¡¯re trying to bring in the fish.¡±


    Once I¡¯d filled the reel to about halfway up the sides, Bart stopped me, and, producing a knife from his belt, cut the line and returned the spool to the tackle box.


    ¡°Next, you''ll need to feed the line through those metal loops, and then attach your tackle,¡± Bart said, reaching into the box. ¡°That is, your bobber, hook, and sinker, though we¡¯ll only be needing two of those today.¡±


    ¡°However,¡± he continued, not drawing out any of the items he''d listed, but instead a thin length of rope and a metal ring. ¡°First, I need to teach you the first proper knot you''re going to need to know.¡±


    ¡°Oh, alright,¡± I said, setting the pole aside and moving closer while Bart knelt and held up the rope and ring. ¡°My older brother was actually in the Scouts, I remember him showing me some of the knots he''d learned.¡±


    ¡°Your brother was a scout?¡± Bart asked, and I jumped a little as I realized what I''d said. I¡¯d forgotten, in the peaceful morning calm, to keep my guard up and especially not to let slip details about my past that were likely to lead only to more questions.


    ¡°Ah, uh, yes,¡± I said, shaking my head and getting a hold of myself. Thankfully, Bart seemed to have misunderstood what I''d meant, and I wasn''t going to bother correcting him.


    ¡°That is¡­ interesting,¡± Bart said, but didn''t press the topic further, instead nodding down at his hands. ¡°Well, allow me to show you another one. This is known as a clinch knot.¡±


    ¡°R-right,¡± I nodded, settling on my haunches and watching intently as he walked me through the steps.


    ¡°First, loop the line through the eye of the hook,¡± Bart began, passing one end of the rope through the ring. ¡°Then, wrap the end around the line five times. Next, pass it once through the first loop, and again through the last, and finally, pull at both ends until it sits tight against the hook.¡±


    He tugged on the length of rope and the loosely wrapped coils slid down, squeezing tight and holding the metal ring snug.


    ¡°Got it?¡± Bart asked, holding the completed knot up for me to see.


    ¡°I think so,¡± I said, and Bart nodded, loosening and unraveling the setup, passing me the rope and ring.


    ¡°Good,¡± Bart nodded, untying the knot and unraveling the setup, passing me the rope and ring. ¡°Give it a few tries, then we''ll try it for real.¡±


    I nodded back, my brow set, and began doing my best to replicate the steps I''d been shown. I had to be reminded once which way to loop the line during the final two steps, but beyond that it was a fairly straightforward knot, and after I''d completed it three times in a row, Bart declared I was ready to move on.


    ¡°Now, every part of a fisherman¡¯s arsenal has a purpose, and whether or not to use one over the other, or none at all, will change depending on where and for what you¡¯re fishing,¡± Bart began, holding up one of the painted wooden bobbers. ¡°Today, we¡¯re fishing a calm pond, for a predatory fish that regularly swims near the surface, so you¡¯ll be using a stationary bobber and live bait. If we were fishing where the water was moving quicker, or at a greater depth, for a type of fish that is more cautious, you¡¯d need a sinker to keep your bait in place and your line from drifting, and you¡¯d use a slip bobber to keep the fish from spooking at the resistance.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I see,¡± I said, taking a moment to appreciate how much more there was to know about fishing than I ever could have imagined, and that Bart was willing to share his depth of knowledge on the subject with me.


    ¡°There are also many ways to use any given tackle, depending on how you rig it, but we¡¯ll keep it simple today,¡± Bart continued. As I watched, he slid one of the smaller bobbers onto the end of my line through a hole in the middle of it, pulling a length of it through before doubling back and feeding it through again, tying a simple knot to keep the whole thing in place.


    ¡°Now, the hook,¡± Bart said, holding up one of the hooks I¡¯d just purchased. ¡°Again, knowing your prey is important for choosing the correct size and shape. The fish we¡¯re catching today only grow to be about as large as your hand, so a smaller hook will work fine.¡±


    Finally, he handed me the hook and I, very carefully, held it up in one hand while using the other to guide the line through the eye at the top. It wasn¡¯t too different from threading a needle, not that I¡¯d done that much in the past either, but I found success after only the first two tries, and then it was a simple matter of repeating the knot I¡¯d learned, but on the much smaller fishing line. In the end, the hook was in place, a short length of line left between it and the bobber.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Bart made a noise of interest as I held up my work for him to inspect. ¡°Impressive. You¡¯re quite fortunate, actually, to have fingers that small and dextrous.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Uh, thanks,¡± I said, looking down at my slender, claw-tipped fingers, wiggling them experimentally. It would be hard to tell without testing, but I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I really was suddenly much more dextrous and graceful. Just how many perks came with becoming part cat?


    ¡°Indeed, I¡¯ve seen fishermen many years your senior struggle with lighter lines like that,¡± Bart said, standing up and straightening his back. ¡°In any case, we¡¯re almost ready to begin.¡±


    I stood up as well and watched, curious, as he moved to the tree where he¡¯d left his own tall case. Laying it down on the ground, he popped the latches and lifted the lid. I thought I¡¯d been impressed by the pole I¡¯d been given, but the one Bart pulled from the case was something else entirely. It came in two parts, the handle and the pole itself, that once Bart had fitted them together, ended up being even taller than he was, I¡¯d guess somewhere around seven feet. The pole was made from a thick length of dark, reddish wood, and the handle was wrapped in black leather that showed signs of being molded over time to the shape of Bart¡¯s hands, but the real star of the show was the reel. It was a large, imposing piece of engineering, with a central spool that sat vertical instead of horizontal, a narrow metal arm on a hinge above the spool and a thick single-handled crank attached to the side, and the whole thing made of a dark metal that had a faint blue tint.


    ¡°Woah,¡± I said, after I¡¯d had time to take the whole thing in. ¡°Now that¡¯s a fishing pole.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Bart said, looking up from tying a bobber and hook to his own line. ¡°Pole? No, this is a fishing rod.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± I asked, momentarily distracted from the far-too-modern-marvel before me by the correction.


    ¡°A fishing rod has a reel, and guides for the line,¡± Bart said, pointing in turn to the reel and the row of metal loops on the pole, er, rod in his hands. ¡°A fishing pole has no reel, and only a single ring at the end of it, and can be many times longer than a rod. The two are used very differently; instead of casting your line out with a rod, a pole allows greater accuracy at the cost of versatility by letting you drop the line exactly where you want it. They have their uses, but they are not a tool for a beginner.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± I said, imagining fishing with something many times longer than the rod I already had, and feeling my arms ache just from the thought. ¡°A-anyway, that¡¯s not what I meant. I mean, that reel, where did you get something like that?¡±


    ¡°Oh, this?¡± Bart hummed, tilting his rod slightly and looking at the reel. ¡°It¡¯s dwarven-made, enchanted, just like the rod itself. Much more complicated, and expensive, than a simple reel like yours, but made for fishing much stronger creatures. It¡¯d be a bit unsporting of me to use something like this here, but I¡¯m only using it to teach you how to cast.¡±


    I felt a momentary need to sit down, and instead settled for resting my back against the large nearby tree, running a hand through my hair. That was another double whammy of revelations that caused me to rapidly reassess my mental image of the dwarves of this world, if they were capable of churning out something that advanced-seeming. And, he¡¯d said his rod was ¡°enchanted,¡± which meant that the worlds of magic and fishing weren¡¯t separate, like I¡¯d foolishly assumed they¡¯d been until moments before. As mundane and, admittedly, a little stale as Bart¡¯s lecture over the past minutes had been, I¡¯d once again let it lull me into forgetting I was in an entirely different world from my own, and not even something as ordinary as fishing was exempt from that.


    ¡°Is something the matter, Sam?¡± Bart asked, and I looked up from the ground, where I¡¯d been staring for several seconds.


    ¡°No, no, I was just¡­ needed to think about something for a second,¡± I said, standing up and taking a deep breath. Right, existential crisis later, fishing now. ¡°You said you¡¯re gona show me how to cast?¡±


    ¡°Ah, right, come, stand here by the water,¡± Bart said, motioning me closer and stepping up to the edge of the river. I followed, standing a few feet to his left and watching as he squared up, holding his rod before him with his right hand.


    ¡°First, start by letting out a couple palms worth of line from the end,¡± Bart said, turning his reel until he had about six inches of line between the end of his rod and the hook. I ignored the unfamiliar measurement for the moment and just repeated the step, letting out the line on my own rod.


    ¡°Next, use your forefinger to hold the line just above the reel like this,¡± he continued, using his index finger to pinch the line with his first knuckle, holding it like he was drawing a bow-string. I once again did the same, and he nodded.


    ¡°Now, these are the two most simple casting techniques you¡¯ll need to know. First, overhand,¡± Bart said, first raising his rod with his arms out, his left hand on the bottom of the handle. In one smooth arc, he swung the rod over his head and flicked it forward, releasing the line from his finger, sending the hook sailing out over the water, until it came down in the center of the pond with a faint plop. After just a moment he quickly reeled his line back in and got situated again.


    ¡°And now, the side cast,¡± he said, turning his body sideways and, as the name implied, swinging his rod in from the side, flicking the hook out and once again sending it square into the center of the water.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said, genuinely impressed at his accuracy.


    ¡°Give each of them a try, then, once you¡¯re comfortable casting, we¡¯ll bait your hook, and you can try to catch your first fish,¡± Bart said, stepping back from the water.


    ¡°Fiiiinally¡± I sighed dramatically, grinning to show that my impatience was only feigned. Bart might not have been the most exciting teacher in the world, but it did seem like he was doing his best to ensure I had a strong grasp on the fundamentals.


    So, without any further stalling, I squared my shoulders and made sure I was holding the line with my index finger. I raised my arms in front of me, and swung the rod up over my head and back before flicking it forward, just as I¡¯d seen Bart do.


    Only for the hook to not go sailing out over the pond, but to instead come splashing down only a few feet in front of me, hardly having traveled any distance at all. Blinking, I reeled the line back in to try again, only for the same thing to happen.


    ¡°Tss¡­¡± I hissed through my teeth, starting to grow a bit frustrated.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± I whispered to myself. ¡°Just take it slow. It doesn¡¯t have to click immediately.¡±


    They were the words of one of my friends from back home, which I¡¯d begun repeating to myself while I was reeling the line in for the third time. She¡¯d been helping me during the period of time when I¡¯d become impulsively obsessed with learning to play the guitar. Since she¡¯d taken violin lessons since middle school, she¡¯d shared enough of her knowhow, and been patient enough, to ensure it was the one time I didn¡¯t let my frustration get in the way of sticking with the hobby. I¡¯d still only learned a few chords with her help, but that was much more than I would have learned otherwise.


    It was a selfish thought, but I found myself wishing I had her there to help me out, despite what that would mean for her.


    ¡°Wait¡­¡± I said, almost slapping myself. I did have someone to help me, I was just ignoring him out of some stubborn habit.


    Turning around, I found Bart, watching and waiting, his back nestled into the crook of the old bent tree like it belonged there.


    ¡°Bart, what am I doing wrong here?¡± I asked.


    Bart seemed overly pleased about something, the corners of his mouth turning up further than I¡¯d ever seen them, as he rose from his relaxed position and walked over to me again.


    ¡°You¡¯re letting go of the string too late,¡± Bart said, stepping up beside me. ¡°You want to let go a little earlier, but not too early, or the line will go flying into the sky as well.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, looking down at my finger as I pinched the line again. ¡°Okay, got it, so¡­¡±


    I brought my arms up again, swung back, and flung the rod forward again, making sure to let go of the line much earlier than I had been. It did indeed go flying, but much, much further than I¡¯d intended, almost clearing the pond entirely.


    ¡°Better, but you¡¯re using too much power,¡± Bart said as I started reeling the line back in. Once I was set to try again, he brought his hand up, placing a palm on one of my elbows. ¡°Remember to let the rod do the work for you, keep your elbows down and pointed towards your target instead of raising them up. You aren¡¯t throwing a javelin, you¡¯re launching a trebuchet.¡±


    ¡°A what?¡± I asked, turning my head to stare at him.


    ¡°A trebuchet?¡± Bart repeated, meeting my gaze. ¡°I suppose if you¡¯ve never seen one it can be hard to explain, it is a siege weapon that uses a swinging arm to sling rocks¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, like a catapult?¡± I cut in, causing Bart to pause for a moment, one eyebrow going up.


    ¡°Close, but not the same,¡± he finally said. ¡°And not what I am here to teach you today. Just remember, elbows down.¡±


    Shrugging, I turned back to the task at hand, keeping both tips I¡¯d been given in mind.


    ¡°Right. Elbows down, remember to let go earlier,¡± I mumbled, and once again tried the overhand cast. I kept my upper arms flat, my elbows pointed towards the middle of the lake, using only my forearms to raise the rod and then fling it forward, putting in much less strength than I had been before.


    The hook went sailing out in a gentle arc, splashing down much closer to where I¡¯d been aiming, and I felt myself break into a huge grin, half in shock, half in excitement, as I looked to Bart for approval.


    ¡°Very good,¡± Bart said with a nod, once again failing to hide his own smile. ¡°Try a few more, then give the side cast a go. I will fill the ice chest, I have a feeling we¡¯re going to need it soon.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± I said, honestly feeling a bit giddy as I wound the line back. I was so excited at my success I almost missed what he¡¯d said, but I watched curiously as he moved to the other case he¡¯d brought, the black and green one, lifting the lid and revealing a similarly-colored interior. He carried the box over to the edge of the pond and bent down, dipping it in to scoop up a generous amount of water, then set it down and knelt.


    Then, he did something so unexpected it completely pulled my attention away from fishing.


    ¡°Frost Touch,¡± Bart whispered, so quietly I would have missed it if not for my heightened hearing, his voice carrying the same odd layered effect I¡¯d heard the night before. His right hand became instantly crusted in ice crystals, and he plunged it into the chest of pond water, swirling it around for several seconds, causing the water to quickly become filled with large chunks of ice. He continued until it was more ice than not, then drew his hand out, shaking it off and wiping it dry on his pants.


    ¡°You know spells too?¡± I almost shouted, causing Bart to visibly jump, looking over his shoulder at me.


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be practicing your casting,¡± Bart admonished me, standing up and closing the lid of the ice chest.


    ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve been practicing your casting,¡± I shot back with a smirk.


    I watched as Bart¡¯s face went on a complicated journey, brows knitting together in confusion, before shooting upward in understanding, to exasperated frustration as he brought a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose.


    ¡°Very clever¡­¡± Bart sighed. ¡°Now, the cast¡­¡±


    ¡°Seriously though, can everyone in this village do magic?¡± I asked, not ready to move off the topic just yet. Bart opened his eyes, which he¡¯d clenched shut momentarily, and met my hungry gaze.


    ¡°Magic is much more common down here, aye. Most people will pick up one or two small, simple spells, things that are helpful to them in their daily lives,¡± Bart explained, likely figuring (correctly) that answering me would be easier than getting me to move on.


    ¡°That¡¯s so cool¡­¡± I breathed, wondering just how many of the few people I¡¯d met had magic spells up their sleeves. Then, like a bolt of lightning, another realization struck me and made my eyes go wide. ¡°Wait! Could you teach me that too?!¡±


    ¡°What, that spell?¡± Bart asked.


    ¡°Yes! Or any spell! All the spells! I would love to learn magic!¡± I said, breathlessly. I hadn¡¯t thought about asking Elle if she were willing to try teaching me after she¡¯d shown off her magic last night, but with Bart already teaching me one thing, it seemed like an easy leap to get him to teach me another.


    Bart put a hand on my shoulder, bringing me back down to earth.


    ¡°Sam, calm down,¡± Bart said, and I did my absolute best to stop vibrating with excitement. ¡°I vow, once we have some time, I will try to teach a few spells.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡ª¡±


    ¡°However,¡± Bart cut in before I could get going again. ¡°One thing at a time. You still need to focus on learning to fish, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°R-right, yes, sorry,¡± I said, catching my breath and facing the pond again. I turned slightly sideways, holding my rod in shaking hands, and brought my arms up. Winding up, I turned and swung my arms, taking my first shot at repeating the sideways cast Bart had shown me.


    As with the overhand, my first attempt sent the hook way off target, almost sending it into some bushes on the other side of the pond. I reeled it back and tried again, cursing under my breath as the second attempt was eve worse than the first. By the time I¡¯d tried, and failed, a third cast, I knew I had to take a break. I was still picturing myself throwing fireballs and learning to levitate instead of focusing on my form, and it was showing.


    Self-concious of my repeated failures, but thankful that Bart didn¡¯t seem keen to jump in and offer up advice unprompted, I set my rod down and took a few moments just to clear my mind, banishing the daydreams and instead replaying Bart¡¯s demonstration of the side cast over and over again. Like the previous cast, I realized I was overdoing the motion; I was turning with my whole body, almost like I was swinging a baseball bat, but I¡¯d been shown already how unnecessary that was.


    Emboldened to try again, and with my hands no longer shaking with nervous energy, I retrieved my rod, held it out to my side, and after taking a long, deep breath, casually and carefully swung it out, minding when I released the line, and actually managed to land it relatively close to where I¡¯d been aiming.


    ¡°Yes!¡± I cheered, pumping my fist into the air.


    ¡°Very good,¡± Bart said approvingly.


    ¡°Okay, what now?¡± I asked, and did not enjoy the smirk that Bart gave me in return.


    ¡°Now, you keep doing them, until each one is as easy and effortless as swinging a sword,¡± Bart declared, once again tucking himself up against the crook of the tree to wait.


    ¡°Ah¡­ crap,¡± I muttered, turning back around and sighing, reeling the line back in. Well, I did ask for this, I supposed. I thought about arguing that I also didn¡¯t know how to swing a sword, but I doubted he meant that literally, more likely it was another common expression, and I still didn¡¯t want to risk drawing attention to my lack of worldly knowledge. I already had enough on my plate at the moment anyway.


    For what felt like the next hour, but was likely far less, I repeated the same motions over and over again.


    Cast. Miss. Reel.


    ¡°Fuck¡­¡±


    Cast. Miss. Reel.


    ¡°Damnit.¡±


    Cast. Miss. Nearly land my hook in the branches of the tree overhead.


    ¡°Shit!¡±


    Much later, long enough for the last of the darkness to be dispelled and the sky to begin to brighten, after I¡¯d finally succeeded in pulling off both styles of cast ten times each, Bart declared I was ready to bait my hook, and try to catch my first actual fish.


    ¡°Now, choosing the correct bait is as important as choosing the right hook, or the proper depth, for the type of prey you¡¯re attempting to catch,¡± Bart began, kneeling next to the water, having brought over the metal bucket of minnows. I stood nearby, rod at the ready. ¡°However, you can rarely go wrong with live baits, as they¡¯ll do most of the work of attracting the fish for you.¡±


    As I watched, Bart reached up and took my hook between his fingers, lifting the lid off the bucket with his other hand, revealing the countless tiny silver fish darting through the water inside it. He reached in and effortlessly snatched one from the water, holding it up for me to see.


    ¡°There are three ways to bait pixie minnows like these; through the lips, through the back, or through the end of the tail,¡± he explained, pinching the minnow between his thumb, index, and middle finger, bringing the hook closer. ¡°There are different situations for each, but for today the only one you¡¯ll be using is the back hook; that allows the minnow to swim naturally and stay alive longer.¡±


    Then, he smoothly and quickly slid the hook through the middle of the minnow¡¯s body, just behind its top fin, then nodded towards the pond.


    I hesitated. It was one thing to know, as a fact, that fishing was done by putting bait on a hook, and another to see it for myself, and to realize I¡¯d have to quickly become comfortable with doing the same myself.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that¡­ hurt?¡± I asked, and Bart met my eyes, breathing out through his nose and nodding slowly. Pulling on the line, he lowered the hooked minnow back into the bucket, then looked up again.


    ¡°Aye, I suppose it would. If you wish not to, I will continue to bait your hooks today, and tomorrow we may try some non-live baits, but I am afraid if you truly wish to learn the art of fishing, you will have to come to accept that it does not happen without pain and death,¡± Bart spoke somberly, turning his head and motioning towards the nearby treeline across the pond. ¡°Hunting, fishing, trapping, farming livestock, these are the ways we take from nature the things we need to survive. It is necessary, aye, but that does not mean we must revel in the slaughter.¡±


    I followed Bart¡¯s hand, gazing into the forest, recalling the butcher¡¯s shops I¡¯d seen back in the village that sold meats, the shoe store we¡¯d visited where everything was made from leather including the sandals I was now wearing, and the fish I¡¯d already eaten at the Crooked Hook. It was true, but, then again, it was likely as true as it was back home, and I¡¯d just never had to think about it.


    ¡°However,¡± Bart spoke again, drawing my attention back. ¡°The very fact that harming even a simple creature concerns you so is heartening. It tells me you are not likely to make the same mistakes so many other hunters do of believing they are above nature, rather than a part of it. That respect will serve you well, whether or not you succeed as an angler.¡±


    I thought about that for several seconds, my head bowed. It was kind of embarrassing, having him attribute all that to me not wanting to poke a little fish with a hook, but I didn¡¯t want to try and correct him that I wasn¡¯t all that special or anything, just reasonably squeamish.


    ¡°Damn, Bart,¡± I said finally, shaking my head. ¡°That¡¯s heavy¡­¡±


    ¡°Heavy?¡± Bart said, confused.


    ¡°Sorry, I mean that¡¯s a lot to take in all at once,¡± I said, taking a deep breath and looking into the bucket of minnows, where the one I still had on my hook was swimming amongst all the others.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll be okay,¡± I decided. ¡°I just want to eat fish, and a lot of it. I want to be able to provide for myself. If I get good enough at this, I can do both.¡±


    Bart took a moment to process my answer, nodding his head in silence.


    ¡°And besides,¡± I continued, grinning again and jerking my head in the vague direction of where I thought the village was. ¡°I have to beat Bentley and win that competition, remember?¡±


    Bart opened his mouth to say something, but must have thought better of it, and instead stood up, facing the pond with his arms crossed.


    ¡°That is true,¡± he said, in a way that made it seem like he¡¯d almost forgotten about the bet I¡¯d made. ¡°Just concentrate on fishing for now. As you say, master this, and you¡¯ll be well fed and able to make a living anywhere in the world.¡±


    That¡­ did not speak highly of his thoughts on my chances of winning the competition, but I was not going to let that get to me.


    I had fish to catch.


    ¡°Hey, yeah, you know what they say,¡± I said, lifting my hook out of the bucket, winding it in until about six or so inches remained dangling from the end of my rod. ¡°Give a cat a fish and she¡¯ll eat for a day, teach a cat to fish and she¡¯ll eat for a lifetime.¡±


    Okay, nobody had ever said that, but Bart didn¡¯t need to know that.


    Squaring my shoulders, raising my arms, keeping my elbows down, I brought my rod up and back, then flicked it forward, letting go of the line at just the right moment, sending the hook flying until it came down directly in the center of the pond, at least by my reckoning.


    ¡°Hah,¡± I laughed in triumph, before realizing I had absolutely no clue what came next. Turning to Bart, I asked, ¡°So, what do I do now?¡±


    ¡°Now,¡± Bart began, stepping back from the edge of the water, ¡°you reel in the slack so your line is tight, and then you wait.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± I asked, doing as I was told and reeling back the line just enough to remove the slack.


    ¡°For a fish to bite,¡± Bart answered, taking a seat on the ice chest.


    ¡°How¡­ how will I know when that happens?¡± I asked nervously, looking from Bart to the gently bobbing, er, bobber in the middle of the pond.


    ¡°Like most of what I¡¯ve taught you today, you¡¯ll need to learn to get a feel for it yourself, especially with smaller fish. Just keep your senses tuned; feel the weight on the line, watch for your bobber to start sinking under the water.¡±


    ¡°O-okay,¡± I said, fixing my eyes on the bobber.


    ¡°Then, once you think you¡¯ve got a bite, you¡¯ll need to set the hook,¡± Bart continued. ¡°At the very moment you feel the strongest pull, use the rod to tug sharply upwards on the line and begin reeling in, not too fast mind, and wait until the fish starts fighting back.¡±


    ¡°Fighting back?¡± I asked over my shoulder, not wanting to take my eyes off the water. ¡°How does a fish fight back?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± was all Bart said, frustratingly. Sighing, I figured that was only fair; he¡¯d just spent nearly an hour giving me the best possible crash course on fishing I could have asked for. Now that it was up to (what I assumed was) the boring waiting part, he probably wanted to take a break, and I couldn¡¯t blame him.


    However, before I even had time to think about growing bored, the bobber jerked to the side suddenly, and I felt my already heightened attention shrink to a laser focus. My eyes went wide, then narrowed, my breathing stilled, and I felt my ears stand at attention and swivel forward. Time seemed to slow down and I waited until, sure enough, there was a definite tug that I could feel through the line, one strong enough to cause the wooden bobber to sink below the water. Acting as quickly as I could, I jerked upwards on the rod, turning the crank backwards, and felt definite resistance.


    ¡°I got it!¡± I shouted.


    ¡°What?¡± Bart called from behind me, then, a second later and much more urgently, ¡°don¡¯t hold the crank still like that, let the fish have some line, quick!¡±


    Confused, but having no reason to doubt him, I followed Bart¡¯s instructions, reeling the line out. Bart appeared at my shoulder in an instant, a look of clear surprise still on his face.


    ¡°What do I do now?¡± I asked, continuing to let the fish pull this way and that, spooling out more line to keep it from pulling the rod too hard.


    ¡°First, stay calm,¡± Bart urged, and rolled my eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m completely calm!¡± I lied. My heart was in fact hammering like a jackrabbit, but there was nothing either of us could really do about that at the moment. ¡°What do I do next.¡±


    ¡°Next, watch the fish. What is it doing now?¡± Bart asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ panicking?¡± I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what answer he was looking for but that seemed in line with whatever this part of the lesson was about.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Bart nodded. ¡°And fighting back, using all of its energy trying to escape. If I know what sort of fish you¡¯ve hooked there, it¡¯s likely no bigger than my hand, so thankfully it can¡¯t fight very hard, but trying to hold back like you were with a much stronger fish could easily snap your line, or worse, damage your rod.¡±


    ¡°O-oh,¡± I said, swallowing nervously as I tried to split my focus between listening to Bart and keeping up with the fish¡¯s movements.


    ¡°That¡¯s why, once you¡¯ve hooked a fish, you must fight it,¡± Bart explained, reaching up tentatively and guiding the rod in my hands until it was tilted in the opposite direction the fish was currently pulling. ¡°Just like with casting, you want to let the rod, guides, and line do their work. There are as many ways to fight fish as there are types of fish, but the same principles apply to all: tire them out, keep the line from going slack, and do not let them pull you towards anything that can cause it to catch or break.¡±


    I followed Bart¡¯s gentle nudging, tilting my rod to follow the fish¡¯s movements, and already I could tell it wasn¡¯t pulling with nearly as much force as it had been seconds ago.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting weaker,¡± I noted, looking to Bart for confirmation.


    ¡°Aye, no animal can fight forever, not even hum-ah, people, but thankfully you¡¯ve got more stamina than this little fish,¡± Bart said, nodding. Then, just long enough that it was obvious it only occurred to him that very second, he added, ¡°or just about, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Was that supposed to be a joke?¡± I asked, feigning shock.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lose focus now,¡± Bart insisted, and I laughed, shaking my head and returning to the task at hand.


    Indeed, it was trivially easy now to start reeling the fish in, all the fight having left it after the short ¡°battle.¡± With my pulse increasing again, I hauled up on the rod when Bart instructed, reeling all the while, and the fish was dragged to shore and eventually lifted right out of the water, and I got my first look at what I¡¯d caught.


    It was a puny thing, all told, and as Bart had predicted; it was a little less than half a foot long, and only as wide as a hand. Not my hand, of course, because mine were actually a bit smaller than it, but more like a grown man¡¯s hand. It looked like, well, a fish; scales, fins, tail, and two wide, glassy eyes. Its body was mainly a greenish-yellow color, except for a set of five black stripes that ran the length of its body from head to tail.


    I wasn¡¯t sure what I expected to feel the first time I saw a fish, a real fish, up close. Nothing, would have been my first guess. Maybe a little curious, if one school field trip to the aquarium was anything to go by. I was not expecting the sight of the scaled creature dangling at the end of the line, weakly flicking its tail, to fill me with the sudden urge to grab it with my bare hands and sink my teeth, (or fangs, as the case may be) into its belly.


    ¡°Quick, give it here,¡± Bart said, snapping me out of the momentary trance I¡¯d slipped into without knowing while watching the fish struggle. I carefully swung it over into his waiting hand and watched as he first removed the hook from the fish¡¯s mouth and retrieved a new tool from his belt. It resembled an ice pick, with a narrow spike and a wide, T-shaped handle, made from some kind of polished, bone-white material. Bart held it so the spike was between his first two and his last two fingers, his thumb on the handle, and then he drove the spike into a point in the fish¡¯s head, just between its eyes.


    All this he did with a speed I found almost dizzying, and I was left stunned, blinking, as the fish he held in his hands flared out its fins, then fell still.


    ¡°What¡­¡± I started to ask, finding myself lacking the breath to finish.


    ¡°If you wish to ensure the fish you catch do not suffer overmuch,¡± Bart began, withdrawing the spiked tool from the creature¡¯s head, ¡°this is another technique you will need to learn. As soon as you are able, as soon as the fight is over, and you have the fish in your hands, you drive a spike into the brain, killing it instantly.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°Heavy?¡± Bart asked, pre-empting me.


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± I said, shaking my head. I was more rattled by the speed and efficiency with which Bart carried out the act, rather than the act itself, but then again Bart had probably been doing this for more years than I¡¯d been alive.


    ¡°Perhaps, but it is also merciful, and quick,¡± Bart said, turning and walking over to the ice chest, lifting the lid and laying the fish down on the bed of ice.


    ¡°And,¡± he continued, closing the lid carefully. ¡°It serves another purpose as well. Just as with hunting game, stress and pain before death can seep into the flesh, causing the meat to sour and worsening the taste. If you intend to sell your catch, or even if you want to eat it yourself, spiking as soon as possible will ensure the highest quality flavor.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ did not know that,¡± I said, truthfully. I knew less about hunting than I did fishing (especially after today¡¯s lesson,) but I knew about stuff like brain chemicals and stress hormones, and it made sense that people who had been fishing for who knows how long would figure something like that out, just through experience.


    ¡°So, you caught your first fish,¡± Bart said, walking back over to me, not bothering to suppress the smile on his face. ¡°How do you feel?¡±


    ¡°I feel¡­ uhh¡­¡± I began, tilting my head back and looking up to the sky. At some point during the fight, the sunrise that had been threatening to come for the last half of the lesson had finally broken. I could see the first hints of sunlight starting to peek over the mountains across the water, casting the sky in hues of pale blue, gold, and orange.


    I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt, honestly. I was on my second day in a completely unfamiliar world, a world filled with elves and dwarves and magic and probably so much more I couldn¡¯t even imagine yet. I was standing at the edge of a pond, learning how to fish because I¡¯d been turned into a cat person and I suddenly found seafood irresistible. I¡¯d bet a nobleman¡¯s son I¡¯d beat him at a fishing competition or face exile from this place I was rapidly coming to appreciate more than anyplace I¡¯d ever been back home.


    I¡¯d been turned into a girl, and so far the only remarkable thing about that was how remarkably easy it was to forget, despite being the one thing I would have expected to be at the forefront of my mind at all times. I didn¡¯t know how to feel about that either, and I didn¡¯t know if I wanted to find out.


    Well, at the very least, there was one thing I did know, with one hundred percent certainty.


    ¡°I feel like¡­¡± I said, tightening my grip on my fishing rod and looking up to meet Bart¡¯s eyes. ¡°I feel like I wana catch another one!¡±

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.6

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 6


    ¡ö


    ¡°Would you like to try baiting the hook yourself next?¡± Bart asked, continuing my first fishing lesson. I nodded eagerly, kneeling beside the bucket of minnows with him.


    ¡°If you have trouble catching one, you can try¡ª¡± Bart began explaining, but before he could finish, I''d thrust my hand into the bucket and snatched a single minnow between my fingers, drawing it out and holding it up between us.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Bart hummed appraisingly, looking from the minnow to me. ¡°Very impressive.¡±


    ¡°T-thanks, it was nothin¡¯,¡± I said with a cocky grin, to cover for the fact that I had no idea how I''d done that. I¡¯d had just enough time to think about reaching into the bucket before my hand snapped out like a spring loaded trap.


    ¡°Bart,¡± I said, after realizing I''d been staring at the minnow in my hands the whole time.


    ¡°Aye?¡±


    ¡°If I do try to eat one of these, please stop me,¡± I said.


    ¡°Are you hungry again already?¡± Bart asked.


    ¡°No!¡± I answered hastily, but, after a moment of contemplation, conceded, ¡°Well, ok, yes, a little bit, but that''s not the point. I just don''t want to end up tossing one into my mouth without thinking.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Bart asked, bafflingly. ¡°They''re perfectly edible, and they make a fine snack.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes in suspicion at him. His face was completely flat, not a hint of amusement in his expression or tone, and I was almost certain he wasn''t the type to play pranks, but I was still extremely skeptical.


    Sensing my apprehension, Bart reached out and plucked the minnow from between my fingers and, without any hesitation at all, popped it into his mouth.


    ¡°Oh, ew, come on man, that''s gross!¡± I protested while he chewed once, then swallowed, flashing me a challenging grin. ¡°Isn''t there like¡­ stuff in there you gota get out before you eat it?¡±


    ¡°On a larger fish, yes, it is important to gut them first, and if you wish to reduce the chance of toxins, you¡¯ll want to cook them first, but should you ever find yourself in a desperate situation where that is not an option, gulping down a few minnows is preferable to starving,¡± Bart explained while I rotated through a series of grimaces. He retrieved his canteen from his belt and brought it to his lips, taking a deep swig, and then offered the water to me.


    ¡°I am not drinking from that after you put your fish backwash in it,¡± I said, putting my hand up. ¡°And I am not going to eat the minnows.¡±


    ¡°Suit yourself.¡± Bart shrugged, motioning at the bucket. ¡°You''ve still got to learn to bait your hook though.¡±


    Shaking off one last shiver, I refocused on the bucket and, once again, moved almost automatically, snatching up a minnow. Bringing up my hook, I held my breath, and carefully inserted the tip through the small section of the minnow¡¯s back, behind the ¡°dorsal fin,¡± or so Bart called it. I made extra sure not to damage the creature''s spine, not just because I didn''t want to make its final moments worse, but because Bart told me that would prevent it from swimming, and reduce its effectiveness as bait.


    ¡°Sorry, lil¡¯ guy,¡± I whispered under my breath, and stood up, facing the pond once more. I repeated the motions I''d been drilling into my head all morning and performed another overhand cast, plopping the hook into the water a few feet from the opposite edge of the pond.


    ¡°You''ve made quite a lot of progress for your first day,¡± Bart noted as I settled in to wait for signs of a bite. ¡°Are you certain you have not done this before?¡±


    ¡°Never,¡± I said, shaking my head, one of my fingers idly resting on the string just above the reel.


    ¡°And yet¡­¡± Bart began to say something, then stopped himself, furrowing his brow when I turned my head to look.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked. I was a little nervous about taking my eye off the bobber, but I figured it was fine for a moment or two.


    ¡°Well, I am just curious. You gave Hubert a family name for your license,¡± Bart said, scratching his chin. ¡°Fisher, if I recall.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, sighing. Bart had been more focused on my age, but I figured he''d also gotten a look at my full name too.


    ¡°Well, with a name such as that, people are going to reasonably assume that you belong to¡­ that you come from a family with a long history of fishing, you see?¡± Bart said, and I raised an eyebrow.


    That¡­ had not been the first thing that occurred to me. I''d been more worried I''d be accused of just making the name up on the spot, but it made sense. Morgan had even pointed it out to me once, that both her and my family''s last names were occupational like that; Fisher for mine, Hunter for hers. I''d always thought of it as just a neat coincidence, but she found it absolutely fascinating, and it was beginning to look like she was right, in the end.


    ¡°Huh, yeah, you¡¯re probably right,¡± I said, shrugging and turning back to the pond.


    Bart didn''t seem to know what to say to that, and before he could speak again, I felt a gentle tugging on my line. My eyes snapped back to the bobber and my ears stood straight up, and I waited for the tentative nibbles to become a full on bite. Just like the first time, I waited until I saw the bobber disappear completely under the water before I gripped the reel tight with my right hand, jerking the rod upwards with my left. The hook was set, and the fight began again.


    I¡¯d expected many things, back when I made the decision to try taking up fishing: that it would turn out to be mind-numbingly boring, or simply too hard, or that I¡¯d turn out to be no good at it all. What I never would have expected was for it to be this fun.


    The fish and I took turns, with it running for distance and pulling the line out, and me reeling it back in once it slowed again, making sure the line never went slack, as Bart warned me that could allow the fish to shake the hook loose. Once its strength began to wane, I started reeling it back in faster and faster, drawing it ever closer to the shore. I thought I had it at that point, but I was startled when the fish put on a sudden burst of speed, yanking my rod far to the right, heading towards the mouth of the river that flowed away from the pond.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let it get too far now,¡± Bart called at my back. ¡°And don¡¯t forget to use your legs.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± I asked, looking down at my legs and the ground under them.


    Oh, duh, of course. I¡¯d been keeping my feet firmly planted, rooted to the same spot the whole time, but by combining reeling back on the line with stepping backwards, I was able to haul the fish in even faster, diverting its path away from the escape route it¡¯d been making a break for. After that, the fight was pretty much over, and I walked back to the pond¡¯s edge as I lifted the exhausted fish the rest of the way up and out of the water.


    ¡°Yes!¡± I cheered as I swung the line into my waiting hand, grabbing it out of the air and holding the flopping fish up in front of me. ¡°Good fight!¡±


    It had been a harder fight than my first one, and it was no wonder; the fish I pulled out of the water was larger than the first one had been. But, if I were being honest, I almost found myself wishing the fight could have gone on a little bit longer. There was just something, something about the process of struggling against the fish, gripping the rod and reel tight, steadily gaining and losing ground, until I could drag my catch out of the water and claim victory, that got my blood pumping.


    ¡°Oh, right, here,¡± I said, remembering that Bart needed to spike the fish as soon as possible. I knelt so I could lay my rod down and reached up, gripping the fish¡¯s surprisingly-slimy body with one hand and working the hook back out of its mouth with the other. I moved to pass the fish off, but instead found Bart holding the bone-white spiked tool out towards me, handle first. I looked up, questioningly.


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to learn how to do this as well,¡± Bart said, and I nodded, tentatively taking the tool into my hand.


    ¡°You¡¯ll use mine, just for today,¡± Bart continued, kneeling beside me. ¡°But we¡¯ll get you one of your own tomorrow¡­ ah, now, you¡¯ll want to aim right there, between the eyes.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t we pick one up today?¡± I asked, bringing the needle-like tip of the spike to the center of what I would call the fish¡¯s forehead, where Bart had indicated.


    ¡°I suppose I wanted to¡­ shelter you from the particularly grisly details until we were already underway,¡± Bart admitted, nodding his head for me to proceed. ¡°Don¡¯t push too hard now, you need only pierce the skull.¡±


    I nodded, took a deep breath, and though I tried not to, squeezed my eyes shut as I flexed my arm and drove the point of the spike in. I waited for several seconds before peeling my eyes open, checking to see I¡¯d done it right. Indeed, the fish was completely still, its mouth open and fins flared.


    Exhaling slowly, I removed the spike and passed both it and the fish over to Bart.


    ¡°Very good,¡± Bart said softly, placing the second fish in the chest of ice with the first.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as easy as it looks,¡± I said, looking at my slick, slightly-shaking hands and taking a deep breath to try and steady them.


    ¡°No,¡± Bart said, standing up and returning to my side. ¡°That¡¯s also why I could not have simply chosen a spike for you today. A tool such as that, intended to take a life, should be personal, and chosen with care, as a sign of respect to the animal. Or, so I feel, at least.¡±


    ¡°Do other people not?¡± I asked, looking up. Bart¡¯s face hardened a little, his mouth pressing into a thin line.


    ¡°There are many fishermen, those new to the craft or those who are simply arrogant and lazy, who disregard the practice entirely,¡± Bart said, shaking his head. ¡°You¡¯ll see some who prefer easier, cruder methods; using a blunt club to bash the fish, or simply decapitating their catches on the spot, but both carry significant risks of contamination and lack the reliability of the spike. But, the worst by far are the inconsiderate few who will throw twenty fish into a bucket no bigger than that one and simply leave them there to slowly suffocate in the heat. Not only a terrible fate for the creatures, but also a surefire way to ruin the meat and make yourself an enemy of every fishmonger in town.¡±


    I looked at the minnow bucket to which he was pointing, furrowing my brow. When he put it like that, it really did seem like the best possible option to just end it quickly and cleanly.


    Then, as I stared at the bucket, I felt my stomach clench and let out an audible groan.


    Okay, I might have lied, and been a lot hungrier than I let on already. But I was not going to eat the minnows!


    ¡°Heh,¡± Bart laughed, and I turned to narrow my eyes at him. ¡°Go wash your hands off, I¡¯ll get you something to eat.¡±


    ¡°Mrph¡­¡± I grumbled in thanks, making my way over to the pond. I wasn¡¯t actually sure how much better or worse washing my hands in there would make them in terms of cleanliness, but at least it would get the fish slime off. I dunked my hands in and swirled them around, then drew them out and wiped them dry on the front of my pants, then made my way over to Bart, who had knelt beside his tackle box.


    ¡°So, what¡¯re we eatin¡¯,¡± I asked as I approached.


    ¡°I had a feeling this might happen, so I made sure to stock up,¡± Bart said, pulling two items from the case, a pair of metal tins about as big around as a soup can. ¡°I¡¯ve got dried meats, and scroggin.¡±


    ¡°Scroggin?¡± I asked, tilting my head. ¡°What on earth is scroggin?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I suppose you wouldn¡¯t have encountered it before,¡± Bart said, setting one of the tins down and popping off the lid of the other, tilting it for me to see. ¡°It¡¯s a collection of different foods, nuts, oats, dried fruits, easy to store and easy to eat, but full of energy, to keep one going while out in the wilderness¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s trail mix!¡± I shouted, laughing as I peered into the tin. Indeed, inside there was a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar nuts, clumps of oats that glistened slightly, and dried fruits in various colors. It wasn¡¯t fish, of course, but it would definitely help me stave off hunger a bit longer. Excitedly, I held out a cupped hand.


    ¡°Hmm, trail mix?¡± Bart hummed, tipping the tin and pouring out a generous portion into my palm. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve ever heard it called such, but it is an apt name, aye.¡±


    ¡°Mmhm!¡± I agreed with my mouth full. The mix was better than any store brand I¡¯d tried before; it lacked the overpowering saltiness and was missing the chocolate, but made up for it with the unique flavors of the unfamiliar nuts, some quite dry, some with an almost buttery aftertaste, and the bright sweetness of the dried fruits. The chunks of oats were the best though, as I discovered; they were held together with a particularly-delicious honey that had me saving several of the little clumps for last.


    ¡°That was great,¡± I declared once I was finished, Bart also helping himself to a handful before reaching for the second tin.


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯m glad you like it. I had actually been worried you would refuse to eat anything that didn¡¯t contain fish,¡± Bart said, once again removing the lid of the tin and offering it to me first.


    ¡°I do eat other things! I like lots of different foods, fish is just the best,¡± I said. It wasn¡¯t a sentiment I would have expressed before coming to this world, but it was definitely the truth now. I probably should have been a bit more concerned about having my tastes and preferences radically altered so suddenly, but fish just tasted so incredibly delicious to me now, I couldn¡¯t even think about complaining.


    Shaking my head to clear it of thoughts about fish, I peered into the tin and was once again treated to a pleasant surprise.


    ¡°Oooh, jerky,¡± I said, reaching into the tin, which was stocked with several dark strips of dried meat, the savory, smoky smell of which was making my mouth water. I stuck one end in my mouth and once again was surprised by the taste, finding it more mild than I was used to, but with a flavor that was distinctly not beef. Even dried I could tell it was tougher than beef, and very rich, with a hint of nuts and herbs that grew stronger as I used my teeth to rip off a chunk and chew.


    ¡°What kind of meat is this?¡± I asked as I worked the mouthful with my teeth.


    ¡°Venison, or rather, deer, from the forests,¡± Bart answered, nodding across the fields towards the treeline.


    ¡°It¡¯s really good,¡± I said, swallowing the first bite and popping the other half into my mouth. ¡°It¡¯s no fish, of course, but it¡¯ll do.¡±


    Bart gave me another rare smile at that, and offered his canteen. Despite the fuss I¡¯d made earlier, I was getting thirsty as well, especially with the sun starting to climb over the mountain tops, so I accepted and took a deep pull.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said with a satisfied sigh, passing the canteen back. ¡°I have to remember to pick one of those up later.¡±


    Then, piggybacking off of that thought, I asked, ¡°Wait, where do you go to fill that from?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Bart said, taking a sip for himself before returning the canteen to his belt. ¡°Well, there are several wells around the village, as well as barrels that are kept topped up by the druids for public use. They should be easy to find, but if you need help, you can always ask one of them.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, recalling the brown-robed, wooden-masked figure standing outside the toilets the day before. That was yet another public service that they were in charge of, and between that and how they were apparently also involved with regulating the hunting and fishing around here, I was starting to suspect they were more of a major organization than I¡¯d realized.


    ¡°Good to know, I guess.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I was worried you just dipped it in the river or something.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Bart said, and at my startled reaction he held his hand up. ¡°But you are right to worry, and you should certainly never do so without me. Down here, drinking from an unknown water source without a means of purifying the water could make you very ill, or worse, mana-sick.¡±


    ¡°O-oh, right,¡± I said, recalling some of what Elle had said about mana being in everything, but especially the ocean. That probably also made other sources of water a similar danger, though I didn¡¯t exactly know what ¡°mana-sick¡± meant.


    ¡°I¡¯m fortunate enough to know the techniques and spells used for purifying water and burning off the excess mana, and I will try to teach them to you if I can,¡± Bart said, and I felt myself grinning a little at that. I couldn¡¯t believe I was really going to get to learn magic too!


    After our quick snack break, we got back to work. And by work I meant fishing.


    It was only after I¡¯d successfully hooked and pulled in two more of the little striped fish that I realized I didn¡¯t even know what to call them.


    ¡°Hey, Bart,¡± I asked, after handing off the fourth fish for him to spike and put with the others. ¡°What kind of fish are these, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Perch,¡± Bart answered immediately. ¡°Yellow perch, specifically. Not a very impressive fish, but good for beginners, and one of the finest-flavored panfish you¡¯ll find in this region.¡±


    ¡°Panfish?¡± I asked, pausing for another short break. That last fight hadn¡¯t been any more difficult than the others, but I was starting to feel the growing strain accumulating in my arms and legs.


    ¡°Aye, that is, any fish that typically never outgrows the common frying pan,¡± Bart explained, nodding towards the pond. ¡°You¡¯ll find plenty in these waters; yellow perch, their hardier cousins the black perch, as well as various minnows, chub, and solfish.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said, following his gaze while I knelt beside the bait bucket. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to taste all of them¡­¡±


    ¡°Mmh,¡± Bart made an amused noise, nodding his head. ¡°I¡¯m sure you will, in time, and eventually we¡¯ll move up to even larger fish. There are several species of trout, pike, and salmon to find if you know where to cast. You¡¯ll need to further hone your techniques, and learn which bait each prefers, but if today has been any indication, you won¡¯t have much trouble advancing.¡±


    ¡°Heh, yeah, sure¡­¡± I said dismissively, shaking my head and readying to grab another minnow.


    ¡°You disagree?¡± Bart asked, and I looked up again, realizing what I¡¯d said.


    ¡°Oh, well¡­ I mean, I don¡¯t¡­¡±


    Shit, me and my big mouth¡­


    I sighed, sitting back on the ground.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, don¡¯t be surprised if things don¡¯t exactly go perfectly once we start trying to move forward,¡± I said, lightly drumming my fingers on the rim of the bucket in front of me. ¡°Like I said last night, I kind of have a history of¡­ giving up, you know?¡±


    ¡°How do you mean?¡± Bart asked, looking down at me curiously.


    ¡°I mean when I try to learn new stuff, new skills or a new hobby or something, I¡¯ll get all excited about it at first and throw myself entirely into it,¡± I began explaining, watching the minnows dart around in circles so I wouldn¡¯t have to look Bart in the eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll do great at the very beginning, when everything¡¯s easy, but the first time things get even a little bit challenging, and I start making mistakes, I¡¯ll get really pissed off and start to hate the whole thing, and then eventually I¡¯ll just¡­ give up.¡±


    Bart was quiet for a few moments, but I could hear him moving around as he thought, pacing through the grass. I just kept watching the minnows swim.


    ¡°You must have had very poor instructors then,¡± Bart said finally, and I lifted my head to stare at him. He had a hand on his chin and was looking thoughtfully at the pond, but when he noticed my lack of response, he turned, cocking his head and lifting an eyebrow.


    ¡°Ah,¡± he said a moment later, looking suddenly uncomfortable. ¡°You¡­ did not have instructors, did you?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I hesitated, unsure of how to explain having access to a near unlimited source of information like the internet. ¡°I had instructions, like¡­ books and things, to learn from, but no, I usually didn¡¯t have someone else teaching me.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Bart said, the furrows in his brow only growing deeper. He was clearly lost in thought, but before the silence could stretch on too far, he shook his head. ¡°Regardless, you can hardly be blamed for that. Books are no replacement for practical exercises and training. Anyone would become frustrated attempting to learn a new technique with no one to guide them.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah, I know¡­¡± I sighed, my mouth suddenly dry. It wasn¡¯t like I didn¡¯t know that already, but that was only half the problem. The other half was actually getting myself to admit I needed the help, and then being able to ask for it without losing my nerve. I¡¯d never been comfortable doing so before, too worried about appearing too weak or too stupid to figure it out on my own to ever ask anyone for help.


    Well, except for her¡­


    ¡°Heh¡­¡± I laughed, but not because anything was particularly funny.


    ¡°Sam?¡± Bart called, clearly concerned, and I shook my head.


    ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± I assured him, mindful of the fact that he¡¯d seen me almost have some kind of episode in the shoe store the day before. ¡°It¡¯s just, you sound like someone I used to know when you talk like that.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Bart asked, relaxing his tense shoulders. He¡¯d moved closer since I started talking, standing in the shade under the tree now.


    ¡°Yeah, a friend of mine,¡± I said, sitting up straight. I¡¯d been starting to hunch over the bucket, and my back was getting sore. ¡°She was really smart like you, too, she knew a lot about almost everything. I guess because she actually studied, unlike me. The one time I actually didn¡¯t give up on something, it was because I had her teaching me.¡±


    I knew I was saying too much, but I didn¡¯t really care at the moment. It was just nice to talk about something, or someone, familiar for a little bit, to think about the parts of home I¡¯d actually miss, as much as it caused my chest to ache.


    ¡°I¡­ see,¡± was all Bart said, taking a seat next to me. Not right next to me, but about two feet away, just settling onto the grass and crossing his legs. I waited for him to say more, to ask for more information, since I knew I¡¯d been nothing but frustratingly vague for as long as he¡¯d known me, but he remained silent, just pulling out another strip of dried venison and sticking it between his teeth. Between him and Felda, I knew the two of them had agreed to give me as much space as I wanted and not hound me for details about my past, which I was taking full advantage of.


    I still thought it was for the best, especially considering the biggest elephant in the room, but I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t getting a little tired of having to constantly keep my guard up. And, if what had happened in the kitchen when I went to talk to Felda after the run-in at the bakery was any indication, I was not as good at keeping what I was feeling under wraps as I used to be. Or rather, I mused, it was less that I wasn¡¯t able to control my emotions, and more that I was feeling every emotion, good and bad, far more strongly than I¡¯d ever been before.


    ¡°Blaaaagh¡­¡± I groaned, throwing my head back. ¡°I just wana fish!¡±


    Then, acting purely on impulse and bottled up frustration, I stuck my hand into the bait bucket, snatched up one of the minnows as easily as if I was picking up a quarter off the ground, and tossed it into my mouth. I chewed once, twice, then swallowed, then immediately went back for a second. It wasn¡¯t until I¡¯d snatched up and ate five of the finger sized fish that I finally came to a stop, flopping over onto my back and letting my mouth hang open, panting slightly. I¡¯d barely tasted the first minnow, but by the second and third I¡¯d found that they were, in fact, pretty good, even completely raw. There was an expected amount of crunch, and the flavor was very earthy, with almost the right amount of natural saltiness.


    Eventually, Bart¡¯s face entered my vision, leaning in from the side.


    ¡°Do you feel better now?¡± he asked, his tone so pleased it bordered on smug.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I admitted, grumbling, then added, ¡°needs more salt, and they¡¯re really chewy.¡±


    That had been the most surprising part, that biting into the minnow was more reminiscent of biting into a particularly-chewy shrimp than a tender piece of fish. I probably wouldn¡¯t want to keep eating them raw, not if cooking them was an option, but I could easily see myself eating at least fifty of them in that case.


    ¡°You were right though, not bad,¡± I said, lifting myself back up off the ground, mindful of the fact that I still only had one pair of clothes.


    ¡°Glad to hear it,¡± Bart said, an amused half-smile on his face. ¡°You really did not need to hold off for so long, though.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Well, you''ve been holding yourself back from doing exactly that since we left the bait shop, haven''t you?¡± Bart asked, and I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°Not the whole time,¡± I said, before conceding, ¡°but, yeah, I guess it did cross my mind, and I was curious, but that''s why I asked you to stop me.¡±


    ¡°And that is exactly why I did not agree to do that,¡± Bart said, laughing once. ¡°That, and, I did not feel like having to bandage myself up.¡±


    ¡°What do you¡­ oh, right,¡± I said, trailing off and looking down at my clawed hands. They did look like they could cause some serious damage, but I was pretty sure I would not actually have scratched Bart if he tried to stop me. For one thing, he was like twice my size.


    ¡°What I am trying to say, Sam,¡± Bart spoke again, drawing my attention back, ¡°is that you do not have any reason to push yourself to behave¡­ differently than you usually would, especially around myself or Felda or her staff.¡±


    I took a moment, for once, to think before I answered. That was probably a reasonable assumption on Bart''s part; that my behavior not matching up with his past experiences with catkin, whatever those were, was caused by me purposely changing the way I behave, to act more¡­ human.


    But I wasn''t human anymore, was I? As much as I might have looked like a human girl with some cat bits just stuck on, I was forced to acknowledge that the differences ran deeper than that, beyond a simple change in my food preferences. Case in point, I hadn''t gagged once while scarfing down the raw minnows, and I was fairly certain I''d be perfectly fine grabbing one of the perch cooling in the ice chest and devouring it whole with only my claws and fangs, with the only protest coming from the part of me that was still, mentally, a human.


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± I said, the summation of my musings settling over my mind like a fog on top of a lake, not quite touching it but still definitely there.


    ¡°Alright, thank you, Bart,¡± I said, snatching just one more minnow from the bucket. ¡°I''ll keep that in mind the next time I feel like clawing up some furniture.¡±


    ¡°You''re¡­ welcome?¡± Bart said, confusion evident in his tone. ¡°Ah, but, I believe Felda would appreciate it if you did not scratch the bar tables, at least.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°I¡­ won''t!¡± I said, stumbling a little and coughing to clear my throat. I''d been about to say that I''d been joking, but Bart¡¯s reaction seemed to indicate that catkin actually did need to claw things regularly. Great, I''d taken a single step towards accepting I was a different species, and the next thing I knew I was having to think about getting myself a giant scratching post.


    After that lengthy interruption, I was eager to get back to fishing. I wasn''t sure how long Bart was planning to have us stay out for, but I figured he would let me know when it was time to stop. As willing as I was to keep going, the strain of the morning''s work was really starting to accumulate in my arms and legs, especially after the next handful of fights, brief as they were.


    It wasn''t until after I''d reeled in my tenth catch of the morning that Bart called for me to stop again.


    ¡°I think we ought to head back now,¡± Bart said, offering me his canteen once again.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked, trying not to pant so hard. Bart smiled in response and nodded.


    ¡°I appreciate your drive to keep going, but I think that would be best, aye. Your legs are shaking, and I worry the next bite may drag you right off your feet,¡± Bart said, while I gulped greedily from the canteen. He had a point, I was forced to admit.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I sighed, passing his canteen back. ¡°I''d hoped to get a little further, but I guess it is only the first day.¡±


    ¡°Do not be discouraged, Sam,¡± Bart said, clapping a hand onto my shoulder. ¡°You have made remarkable progress for your first time. In truth, we were nearing the limits of how many perch are permitted to be caught in one day.¡±


    ¡°What? There''s a limit?¡± I asked, and Bart nodded firmly, then, looking suddenly startled, removed his hand from my shoulder and went about packing up the gear.


    ¡°Aye, fifteen is the limit for that species at this time of year,¡± Bart explained while he knelt and checked over his tackle box and rod case, ensuring both were latched shut.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, looking over at the ice chest while I thought. I understood the concept of fishing limits, at least for my world, where organizations monitored the ecosystem and tried to keep everything in balance, and wondered if that was also another facet of the druids'' existence.


    ¡°So, what''s to keep someone from going over the limit?¡± I asked, looking around the wide open fields. ¡°I mean, we''re all alone out here, so unless we have to go through some kind of checkpoint and get our fish counted when we get back, how else would we get found out?¡±


    At my question, Bart¡¯s face suddenly became very serious, and when he spoke his tone was as stern as iron.


    ¡°No, there is no such measure in place for a town this small, but tempting fate and defying the limits is not only wildly irresponsible, it is also highly illegal,¡± Bart explained carefully, making sure I was paying as much attention as possible. ¡°A druid could request to inspect your catch at any time, and if you''re found deliberately violating the catch limits or weight restrictions, you might not only incur a hefty fine, but also lose your license or even be banned from fishing in the entire kingdom of Torgard.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said when he was finished, shaking my head. ¡°Gotcha, don''t mess with the druids, and don''t take too many fish, message received.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Bart said with a firm nod, his face softening again, and he motioned to my rod, still waiting to be packed away.


    Following Bart''s prompting, I knelt and started to place my rod in the carrying case, but he stopped me again.


    ¡°Ah, wait,¡± he said, reaching into his pockets with one hand while pointing to a small metal loop at the base of the rod just above the reel with the other. ¡°If you''re storing your rod with the hook still attached, be sure to use the hook keeper there.¡±


    ¡°Oh, got it,¡± I said, following his instructions and guiding the hook into the little loop. Bart withdrew a cork from his pocket, which I then stuck to the end of the hook to keep it in place. Soon after that, we were all packed up, and my eyes were drawn to the bucket of minnows, which still had several of the tiny fish swimming around inside.


    ¡°What do we do with those?¡± I asked, nodding towards the bucket.


    ¡°That depends,¡± Bart said, standing up and slinging the case containing his rod over his shoulder. ¡°We can bring them back to the bait shop, and Hubert will refund a portion of the price for the ones that are still alive, but most fishermen choose to just release their leftover bait. I don''t suppose I have to tell you which I prefer, but you''re free to choose¡­¡±


    ¡°Say no more,¡± I said, scooping up the bucket and returning to the edge of the pond. As I lifted the lid, I felt a brief urge to help myself to a couple more of the tiny fish, but fought it down, as I''d already had plenty.


    ¡°S''your lucky day, guys,¡± I said as I tipped the bucket into the water, watching for several seconds as the dozens of remaining minnows scattered in all directions, swimming as fast as their little bodies allowed.


    Bart was right, that did feel nice.


    I started to rise, but paused, something drawing my eyes to a point across the fields, to the edges of the forest. At first, I couldn''t tell what it was, but then I realized I''d picked up on some movement inside the foliage, and instinctively honed in on it, similar to how even the slightest twitch of the bobber instantly drew my full attention.


    Squinting my eyes, I could just make out a figure squatting amongst the trees. They were small, even shorter than I was, and both their skin and the clothes they were wearing were almost the same color as the greenery around them, making them blend into the bushes and grass they were using as cover. It was hard to make out any features other than their huge, pointed ears and a pair of wide, round yellow eyes, which even now continued to observe me, even after I''d noticed them and began staring back.


    ¡°Something wrong, Sam?¡± Bart called out, making me jump to my feet.


    ¡°Uh, no, sorry, I¡­¡± I turned to wave him off, and when I looked back, the figure was gone. ¡°Just thought I saw somethin¡¯.¡±


    I returned to Bart and we finished preparing to set out for the village, Bart holding the ice chest, and me carrying the tackle box in one hand and the now-empty bucket in the other. We started off back the way we¡¯d come, tromping through the tall grass, with Bart once again keeping his steps measured for my sake.


    As we went, I kept casting glances back over my shoulder, curious about the figure I¡¯d seen in the woods, and maybe expecting to see it again following us away from the river, but as far as I could tell they¡¯d disappeared back into the woods. I did eventually see someone though, several someones, as we followed the river back towards the road. They were other fishermen, posted up at the banks of the river, holding their rods out before them. A few of them noticed our passing, raising an arm to wave, and after seeing Bart return the gesture, I joined in as well.


    The journey back seemed much shorter than the walk out to the river, and in no time we were back on the well-traveled main road, with the guard tower and the edges of the village coming into view in the distance. There were also people other than us traveling the road now, going to or coming from the village, and just like with the fishermen, many of them called out to Bart and I and waved as we passed. I watched as one of the horse-drawn carts passed us by, several of the people riding in the back waving or nodding or tipping their wide-brimmed hats.


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s so friendly today,¡± I mused aloud. It was much preferable to the sea of silent stares and hushed whispers I¡¯d waded through yesterday while out on the streets. Bart looked at me thoughtfully and I expected him to say something, but in the end he just smiled and nodded.


    We passed by the guard tower and I got a second look at the guards stationed in and around it, the three figures clad in a uniform of pale blue with gold accents. They were lightly armored, wearing only a breastplate painted with the image of a turtle, and matching sets of gauntlets and greaves. They all had swords resting on their hips, but I also saw one leaning on a tall polearm topped with a wide, axe-like blade.


    They all saw me staring at them as we passed, of course. I hurriedly tried to cover for it by waving to them, but only one returned the gesture, the other two just exchanged glances before returning to their quiet conversation.


    ¡°So, uh, where¡¯re we headed?¡± I asked Bart, eager to leave the tower behind.


    ¡°Well, first things first, we need to offload your catch,¡± Bart said, lifting the ice chest in his arms a little higher and once again taking a turn onto a side path, leading us away from the main streets and towards the docks. ¡°Typically, you¡¯d visit the market, and sell to one of the fishmongers, but Felda wanted to be the first one to buy from you directly.¡±


    ¡°Oh, really?¡± I said, my ears perking up, which was becoming a much more regular occurrence since the first time I noticed it happening. ¡°Wait, she¡¯s not just gona overpay me, is she?¡±


    ¡°Hah,¡± Bart barked, turning to smirk down at me. ¡°I¡¯m sure she wants to, but I made her promise not to, for both your sakes. You¡¯ll get a fair price from her, and she¡¯ll still be able to turn a profit on what you sell her.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± I said, nodding firmly. I didn¡¯t go to all this trouble of taking up fishing just so Felda could bankrupt herself paying me more than the fish were worth. Still, I was glad that we weren¡¯t going to the market today; I was definitely ready to sit down and take a break.


    As we entered the docks and began to travel down them in the direction of the Crooked Hook, I noticed the amount of fishermen and sailors milling around had decreased since the early morning. Most of the docks sat empty, and I could see the boats that had been moored in them out on the water now, slowly drifting across the bay. There were a handful of ships still docked and a fair number of workers about, either hauling things onto or unloading them from the ships. They not only spotted us coming and waved or nodded when they could, but one in particular even moved to stand on top of the railing of a ship as we passed, raising his hands to his mouth and calling out.


    ¡°Hoy! Cat girl!¡± he called, and it took me a second to realize he was not trying to literally catcall me, but was trying to talk to me and just didn¡¯t know my name.


    ¡°What!¡± I shouted back, figuring I had no real reason to ignore him.


    ¡°How¡¯d the fishin¡¯ go?¡± he asked. I could tell from the number of heads that turned in our direction that he was not the only one interested in the answer, but I couldn¡¯t imagine why.


    Hesitantly, I glanced up at Bart, to see if he had anything to offer, but all he had for me was a sidelong smirk and an unhelpful shrug. Bastard.


    ¡°I caught some perch!¡± I yelled back, if only to see where this was going. Then, since that wasn¡¯t really much of a metric, I added, ¡°Ten of ¡®em!¡±


    The man let out a whistle and inclined his head, one of the other men on the deck behind him saying something I couldn¡¯t hear. With a grin, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled again.


    ¡°All by yerself, or did Bart help ya pull ¡®em in?¡± he asked, and I actually scoffed.


    ¡°Nope, all me!¡± I shouted back with a grin.


    Laughing, the man tossed out a quick, ¡°Not bad!¡± before returning to his work, while around him reactions varied. Some sounded less impressed than he had been, some more, and some dock workers even exchanged small handfuls of coins between one another before resuming their work. Chuckling a little and unable to stop grinning, I caught up with Bart.


    Without any further interruptions, we soon arrived at the front doors of the Crooked Hook. Both my and Bart¡¯s hands were still full, and though I could have easily set the empty bucket down and opened the door by hand, I wanted to try something. Turning slightly sideways, I brought my tail up, looping out through the handle and around the latch, gritting my teeth and flexing until I felt the metal turn and give, using my hips to push the door the rest of the way open.


    ¡°Ha!¡± I laughed at my own minor accomplishment. Since starting to come to terms with the changes I¡¯d undergone, I found myself growing more and more curious about the capabilities of my new body, especially my tail, and took the opportunity to test its strength. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be lifting anything particularly heavy with it anytime soon, but this was definitely a start.


    Stepping into the tavern, I found Felda waiting for us. She had her moss-colored hair tied back, and was in the middle of wiping down one of the tables, but upon our entrance she smiled and stood up, running an arm across her brow.


    ¡°Welcome back,¡± she said, throwing the rag she was using over her shoulder and coming to relieve Bart of the ice chest, carrying it the rest of the way to the bar. ¡°How¡¯d it go out there?¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± I answered first, setting the tackle box and my rod case down beside the door and following Felda to the bar.


    ¡°Aye, she did very well for her first time,¡± Bart agreed, shrugging his coat off and hanging it up beside the door and resting his rod beside mine, before joining us at the bar where Felda had deposited the ice chest.


    ¡°Well, this certainly feels pretty full, let¡¯s have a look,¡± Felda said, running a hand across the polished black surface of the chest before lifting the lid. Inside, just where we¡¯d left them, was the small pile of ten yellow perch resting atop the slightly melted bed of ice. While I suspected Felda had been merely humoring me before, upon seeing my haul her eyebrows went up and her mouth opened slightly. Clearly, whether she knew it or not, she¡¯d been underestimating the amount of fish I¡¯d brought back, and it showed.


    I couldn¡¯t help but grin again.


    ¡°You caught all these?¡± Felda asked, reaching in and lifting one of the fish out of the ice, weighing it in her hand while turning to look at me.


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said, preening. I knew she¡¯d been patronizing me, but her surprise seemed so genuine, I was willing to let her overreact a little.


    ¡°Wow,¡± Felda said, reaching out with her free hand, placing it on top of my head between my ears and gently ruffling up my hair. ¡°Well done, Sam.¡±


    Between the surprisingly-pleasant feeling of her fingers on my scalp and the genuine compliment, I felt myself melt, a shiver traveling all the way down my spine and out to the tip of my tail, making it swish in the air behind me. I was purring again, and I had no clue if it was even possible to stop it, or whether I even wanted it to.


    All too quickly, Felda had to stop petting my head to go back to examining the fish, and when she did I realized I¡¯d closed my eyes at some point. Opening them again, I found Felda poking through the ice chest, while behind her Bart appeared to be having trouble meeting my eyes, for some reason.


    ¡°They all appear to be in excellent condition, too,¡± Felda said as dug deeper into the pile. ¡°I suppose I have Bart to thank for that?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s actually a great teacher,¡± I said, hopping up onto one of the bar stools.


    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®actually?¡¯¡± Bart asked, crossing his arms and giving me a look. I tried to return it with a smirk, but I was still feeling too giddy from having my hard work praised, so I couldn¡¯t hold it for more than a second or two before I burst out laughing and shaking my head.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry, I was kidding, you¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re a very good teacher, Bart,¡± I said, taking a deep breath to try and calm my sudden case of the giggles. ¡°One of the best I¡¯ve ever had, actually.¡±


    Bart¡¯s own face remained still as a statue for so long I almost started to wonder if I¡¯d gone too far joking with him, until the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly and he shrugged.


    ¡°Well, thank you Sam. You¡¯re a very diligent student, so far, but we¡¯ve got many more lessons ahead of us,¡± Bart said, which I took as his attempt to play along, and snickered again.


    Turning back from her inspection of the fish, Felda wiped her hands off and smiled at our antics, before speaking up.


    ¡°Well, this is a fair-sized catch. They all appear to be about two pounds, but I can go get my scales if you¡¯d prefer me to weigh each one like they do at the market,¡± she said, slipping into a more businesslike tone than I hadn¡¯t heard from her yet.


    ¡°Uuuh, no, that¡¯s fine, I don¡¯t mind, and I trust you,¡± I said, turning in my stool to face her. Honestly, I mostly didn¡¯t feel like waiting for each fish to get weighed individually at the moment.


    ¡°Then in that case, yellow perch go for about two shells a pound right now, but if you¡¯ll let me, I¡¯ll give you two and half for the eight biggest ones you have here,¡± Felda said, motioning to the chest.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I hummed, bringing a hand to my chin to make it look like I was actually thinking about it for a moment. I still knew basically nothing about the currency of this world, but I understood she was overshooting the market value just to make up for not bothering to check the exact weight of each fish. I had no reason to refuse, so I finished up my fake deliberation and nodded with a smile.


    ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± I said, looking at the pile of fish again. ¡°Though I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m gona do with the other two if you don¡¯t wana buy them.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m still taking those as well,¡± Felda said, walking around behind the bar and kneeling down, disappearing for a moment and returning with a rectangular lock box in her hands. ¡°The eight I¡¯m buying will be going on tonight¡¯s menu, but the other two are for you.¡±


    I felt my ears perking up again as I swiveled to face her, while she used a large key attached to a length of chain around her neck to open the lockbox.


    ¡°O-oh?¡± I said, already losing focus while Felda dug out several coins from the lockbox.


    ¡°Of course, you must be hungry again after all that hard work, so I¡¯ll cook one up now, and the other one later tonight, how¡¯s that sound?¡± she asked, looking up from her sorting.


    ¡°Great!¡± I said, practically lifting up off of the stool. I¡¯d actually been eager to taste this new type of fish since I¡¯d caught the first one, and thought I¡¯d be waiting much longer to get a chance. But, remembering that we interrupted Felda in the middle of doing something, I quickly added, ¡°I mean, it can wait, if you¡¯re busy right now! I mean, I¡¯m not that hungry.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Felda replied, shaking her head. ¡°I insist. I can finish the rest later, and you¡¯re going to need the energy for your day out.¡±


    Ah, right, I almost forgot, I still have a shopping trip planned later today, whenever Elle and Mel arrive. I probably ought to have something to eat before that, and maybe I could lie down for a little afterwards¡­


    The sound of metal clinking brought me out of my thoughts, and I looked up as Felda placed the coins she¡¯d collected from the lockbox out in front of me. I¡¯d been expecting a large amount of the smaller silver coins with seashells on them, based on what she¡¯d said, but instead she placed down four of the larger coins with a trio of clams on them.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry, I forgot¡ª¡± Felda said, noting my moment of confusion, but I held a hand up.


    ¡°No no, I think I get it,¡± I said, double checking the math in my head. ¡°Hubert told me ten clams is one crab, and this must mean that ten shells is one clam, right?¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, that¡¯s right,¡± Felda said, and I reached out, scooping up the four coins and dropping them into my pockets with the rest I was still carrying. ¡°Do you want me to explain the figures to you?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? No, it¡¯s easy,¡± I said, looking up and finding Felda looking at me with her brows slightly furrowed. ¡°Two and half shells per pound and two pounds per fish is five shells, five times eight is forty, so forty shells or four clams. Easy.¡±


    Felda continued to look at me blankly for several seconds before seeming to remember where she was, smiling again and closing the lid of the lockbox.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s right, Sam, very good,¡± she said, kneeling down to replace the box from wherever she got it, then standing back up and lifting the ice chest from the bar counter. ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to go get these into storage and then I¡¯ll be right back with your lunch.¡±


    ¡°Uh, okay,¡± I said, watching her go. She was acting like I¡¯d just pulled off a magic trick or something. I turned to ask Bart if he had any idea what that was about, and found him wearing the same look on his face. When he noticed me looking, he cleared his throat and quickly circled the bar.


    ¡°Pardon me, Sam, I¡¯m going to go¡­ help Felda get the fish put away,¡± he said stiffly, then disappeared through the still swinging door to the kitchen.


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± I said, to myself, then shrugged, leaning forward to rest my chin in my palms, my ears already swiveling forward even before the muffled voices began to drift out from the closed serving window.


    ¡°Well, what do you make of that?¡± I heard Felda ask, accompanied by the sound of heavy thudding as she set the ice chest down.


    ¡°She certainly knows her figures¡­¡± Bart said, and I couldn¡¯t help rolling my eyes. Was that really what all this was about, that I could do some simple math? Was it that surprising?


    ¡°Seems that way,¡± Felda said, voice growing fainter for a moment as she moved further away, and I heard the sound of another door opening. She continued once she returned. ¡°Every time I think I have that girl figured out, she has another surprise up her sleeves.¡±


    ¡°She knows how to read and write as well, or she said as much to Hubert when she got her license,¡± Bart replied. I thought he hadn¡¯t been paying attention by that point, with how absorbed he seemed in picking out fishing gear for me. I couldn¡¯t really be upset though, especially considering I was, once again, listening in on a conversation they clearly didn¡¯t think I could hear.


    ¡°Is that usual up there?¡± Felda asked, voice once more fading then returning as she made another trip to what I assumed was her cold storage. ¡°From the way you told it, they treat her kind like little more than pets, so who would bother to teach her those things?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Bart answered. ¡°It was already my thinking that she wasn¡¯t raised the same as others of her kin I¡¯ve met, and this all but confirms it. I just can¡¯t figure out to what end someone would do such a thing. She knows things she shouldn¡¯t, but seems confused by other things she ought to know. It is¡­ perplexing.¡±


    The conversation stalled there for a few moments, enough time for Felda to apparently finish putting away the rest of the fish and start prepping the one she was about to cook for me.


    ¡°Well, aside from that, how did the fishing go?¡± Felda asked, followed up by the rhythmic sound of metal scraping against metal. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s obvious it went well, but how did she do?¡±


    ¡°Excellently.¡± Bart replied immediately. ¡°She took to my lessons well, she asked for my advice when she needed it, heeded it well when I gave it. And once she got her hook in the water, she was a natural.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good! That¡¯s great, even,¡± Felda said, and the metal scraping stopped. For a moment I heard nothing, and then, the sudden and unmistakable thwack of a very large knife chopping through something. ¡°Do you think she may actually have a chance at winning the competition?¡±


    I found myself holding my breath, waiting for Bart¡¯s answer.


    ¡°It is¡­ too early to say for certain,¡± Bart said softly. ¡°But, if she continues to improve at the rate she showed me today, then she¡¯ll easily qualify for a full license. And if she proves as adept at fishing in the sea as she is on land, then I¡¯d say she¡­ might just end up good enough to take second or third place. I don¡¯t know if she¡¯ll become skilled enough to win outright, but as we¡¯ve both learned, she¡¯s capable of surprising us.¡±


    Aww¡­


    It really was amazing, the difference a single day could make, both in terms of Bart¡¯s attitude towards me, and mine towards him. It did not help me feel less guilty about my eavesdropping, and I still knew I was eventually going to have to tell Felda and Bart about it, but part of me insisted that it was vital I keep it a secret in case it helped me hear something absolutely critical that I wouldn¡¯t have otherwise.


    Shaking my head, I resolved to at least do my part to lessen my own participation, hopping off my stool and walking several paces away from the bar, trying to find something to distract myself with so I could block out the rest of the conversation resuming inside the kitchen. I paced the outer edge of the tavern once, then approached one of the wooden support beams and, for a worrying amount of time, actually considered sinking my claws into it.


    ¡°No! I told Bart I wouldn¡¯t,¡± I said, shaking my head and quickly walking away from the wooden pillar, coming to a stop and finding myself at the foot of the stairs that led up to the second floor, where the guest rooms were. I hadn¡¯t been up there yet, and as far as I knew, I wasn¡¯t forbidden from going up there either. I still found myself glancing towards the kitchen, but the faint rhythmic chopping sounds I could hear told me I probably had a few minutes at least. How long did it take to prepare a fish, actually? I could probably ask Felda later. Imagine if I could not only catch, but also cook my own fish¡­


    ¡°Nyach!¡± I shook my head again, and bounded halfway up the stairs, before slowing down and taking the rest more carefully. Not because I was worried about tripping, but because I didn¡¯t know if there were still people sleeping in the rooms upstairs, and I definitely didn¡¯t want to bother them.


    Emerging on the landing, I found myself in a version of the hallway that led to Felda¡¯s room, but a bit longer, and with more doors ¡ª six of them, to be exact ¡ª and a window placed at the far wall that was letting in plenty of sunlight. The middle of the hall was partially covered by a pair of long decorative rugs, and a few of the walls between the doors had paintings hung up on them. One was of a fantastical vista of a towering city built on a floating island, surrounded by clouds, one depicted a large ship being tossed about amidst a turbulent storm, and a much more pleasant one showed a sunset upon the ocean, the orange sky around it melting into pinks and purples before darkening to a deep blue dotted with stars.


    I spent longer than I realized staring at the paintings, before a rattling sound beside me made me jump, and I realized it was one of the bedroom doors opening. I briefly considered booking it for the stairs to avoid an awkward confrontation with whoever was emerging from their room, but figured that would only appear even more strange, and just took several steps back to give them space.


    The figure emerging from the room came out backwards, pulling the door shut behind them before locking it with a key, then turning around, and I realized far too late I should have just ran for it.


    The bird man from the bar the previous night spotted me as soon as he turned, and it was impossible to miss the way he jumped back upon seeing me.


    ¡°Oh!¡± he said, his wings flaring out behind him and all his feathers fluffing up. He spoke in a startled, but unmistakable British accent, putting a clawed hand to his chest. ¡°Soliel¡¯s grace, you scared the living daylights out of me¡­¡±


    ¡°Sorry!¡± I said quickly, putting my hands up, then pointing at the painting. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ I wasn¡¯t waiting for you, I promise, I was just¡­ looking at the paintings¡­¡±


    Blinking his large golden eyes and pushing his glasses up, the man turned and looked at the painting of the floating island in the clouds, his shoulders relaxing and his wings settling back into place behind his back.


    ¡°Oh¡­ I see!¡± he said, putting on a pleasant smile, turning back to me. ¡°You¡¯re the girl from last night, yes? You stood up to that pompous cad and his two cronies.¡±


    ¡°Uhh, yeah, that¡¯s me,¡± I said, taking a moment to actually parse what he¡¯d said. I was glad that was the thing he remembered me for, at least.


    ¡°Oh, of course, where are my manners,¡± he said, removing the hand from his chest and holding it out towards me, but not like he was expecting a handshake. Instead, he held his hand out low, palm up and with fingers slightly curled.


    ¡°I¡¯m Peter,¡± he said, and I looked from him to his hand, raising an eyebrow. It wasn¡¯t hard to tell that he was trying to greet me the way people introduced themselves to unfamiliar dogs. Or cats too, I supposed. I had no idea what he expected me to do with that, so I just brought my own hand up, offering a shake like normal.


    ¡°I¡¯m Samantha, but, uh, call me Sam,¡± I said, and Peter recovered quickly, turning his hand to accept mine and shaking it once.


    ¡°Oh, lovely to meet you, Sam,¡± he said, chuckling lightly. ¡°My apologies, did I do it wrong? I haven¡¯t been back to the skies in quite a while, so I¡¯m a bit rusty on greeting catkin.¡±


    ¡°Uh, no, I just prefer a¡­ normal handshake,¡± I said, completely at a loss for what he was talking about.


    ¡°Huh, fair enough,¡± Peter said, adjusting the strap of the large shoulder bag he had slung across his chest. ¡°To be honest, I didn¡¯t expect to find one of you all the way down here, and especially not without an accompanying Lord or Lady. How¡¯d you come to find yourself in this little corner of the world?¡±


    Oof, there it was. I¡¯d grown accustomed to Felda and Bart¡¯s insistence on waiting for me to open up on my own, but Bart had warned me that other people were going to be just as curious about me, and wouldn¡¯t hesitate to ask me that exact question directly. Luckily, I had the perfect response in my back pocket.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t really like to talk about it,¡± I said, bringing one arm up to rub awkwardly at the other. For good measure, I flexed my ears until they tilted downwards, as I was pretty sure that was a universal signal of displeasure, at least with normal cats.


    ¡°Oh, goodness, I¡¯m deeply sorry,¡± Peter said, and I got worried I¡¯d poured it on a little too thick, if his expression of concern was anything to go by. ¡°We¡¯ve only just met, and I¡¯ve been so terribly rude.¡±


    ¡°I-it¡¯s fine,¡± I said, popping my ears back up and shaking my head. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ kind of a long story¡­¡±


    ¡°Say no more, Sam,¡± Peter said, holding his scaled hand up and placing the other on his chest.


    Well, it needed a little tweaking, but I would have to keep that move in mind the next time a stranger started asking me questions.


    Before I could figure out how to move the conversation on from that little hiccup, an exit provided itself in the form of Felda¡¯s slightly-concerned voice, carrying itself up the stairs from the first floor.


    ¡°Sam? Where¡¯d you go?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, sorry, I¡¯ve gota¡­¡± I jumped, pointing over my shoulder with my thumb and taking a few steps backwards, towards the stairs.


    ¡°Oh, certainly, I was just on my way down as well,¡± Peter said, and began walking as well, following me as I bounded down the stairs, landing back to the tavern¡¯s main floor, and finding Felda and Bart having returned from the kitchen.


    ¡°There you are,¡± Felda said, smirking upon my hopping down from the last step, putting a hand on her hip. ¡°Where¡¯d you get off to?¡±


    ¡°Upstairs,¡± I said, trying to focus on her face, but my eyes couldn¡¯t help but be drawn to the slightly steaming basket she had placed in front of her on the bar. I very quickly made my way over, climbing up onto a stool. ¡°I was, uh, just looking at the paintings for a bit.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± Felda said, and then added with a slightly more serious tone, ¡°You didn¡¯t bother any of the guests, did you?¡±


    ¡°Not at all!¡± Peter said cheerfully as he also emerged from the stairway, greeting Felda with a quick tip of his little red woolen cap. ¡°Hail and good morning, Miss Stoutsinger, I was just getting to know your little houseguest here.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Peter,¡± Felda said, giving the bird man a tired smile. ¡°I¡¯ve told you, you can just call me Felda.¡±


    ¡°Ah, apologies, old habits, you know?¡± he said, also approaching the bar, taking a few sniffs at the air and pointing to the basket of lightly breaded fish portions that was currently holding a good eighty percent of my attention. ¡°My, that smells delightful, what is it?¡±


    ¡°Just a bit of fried perch for Sam here,¡± Felda said, reaching out and once again giving me a brief, blissful, scratch on the top of my head. ¡°She caught it herself, as well as several more. I¡¯ll be adding them to the dinner menu tonight.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right, you did say you were here to take up fishing, didn¡¯t you?¡± Peter asked, turning to me, and I had to fight through the fog of Felda¡¯s petting and the smell of fried fish that was threatening to cloud my brain entirely in order to answer him.


    ¡°Y-yeah, that¡¯s right,¡± I said, turning to look at him so I could focus again. ¡°Went out with Bart for my first lesson this morning.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d certainly love to order some later tonight,¡± Peter said, turning back to Felda. ¡°For now though, could I possibly trouble you for a bit more of that bread from the night before?¡±


    I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from snorting, and ended up bringing my hand up and biting down on one of my knuckles. I wasn¡¯t sure why, but there was just something extremely amusing about the bird man asking for bread in his charming little accent.


    Thankfully, he didn¡¯t seem to notice my reaction, nor did Felda, but I could clearly tell Bart was looking up at me from the book he¡¯d been reading.


    ¡°Oh, of course, I didn¡¯t manage to sell off all of it, let me go get you some,¡± Felda said, turning and disappearing back into the kitchen. Humming slightly, Peter climbed onto a stool to wait, and I was able to focus on something else, namely, getting a better look at him. Specifically, getting a look at his legs.


    No, not like that.


    I hadn¡¯t been able to see him from the waist down the night before, and I¡¯d been too flustered upon being discovered outside his door to notice earlier, but now that he was sitting I saw that he wore a very wide legged, dark blue pair of pants that only went down to his knees, and were cinched in place by a pair of buckles. What I could see of his legs and feet was drastically different from his upper half, being completely covered in downy, soot-gray feathers that grew darker the closer they got to his calves and feet, which were completely unlike a human¡¯s at all. Instead, they were entirely birdlike, being covered in black scales and ending in a four-toed claw-tipped foot with large, curved talons.


    I realized I¡¯d been staring and looked up, finding Peter giving me a strange sidelong smile while he leant against the bar.


    ¡°S-sorry,¡± I said, hastily averting my eyes, then, to hopefully make it seem like I hadn''t just been staring at him for no reason, added, ¡°Those look really sharp. Your claws, I mean.¡±


    Shit, was that supposed to be a compliment? Was it a compliment? I hadn''t been great at knowing how I was supposed to act back when I was just a human, so I was at a total loss trying to figure out social interactions across two entirely different species.


    Thankfully, my worries were assuaged a bit when Peter just cocked his head and stuck one of his legs out, flexing his clawed toes.


    "Oh, my talons?" he asked, and grinned when I nodded. "Why thank you, I do try to take good care of them, even when I''m traveling, but it''s hard work. You''re lucky your kind can still fit into sandals and the like, there isn''t a cobbler alive who''s figured out how to make shoes for birdkin, and I can''t fly everywhere, much as I''d like to."


    I laughed, nervously at first, but when he joined in with some light chuckles of his own, it turned more genuine. For some reason, I''d half convinced myself that so casually discussing either of our more obvious animal-like traits would be in some way rude or taboo or something, but that seemed not to be the case.


    "How, uh, how do you keep them in such good condition?" I asked, since that seemed like the most logical follow-up question.


    "Oh, I have a little kit I carry with me," Peter said brightly, patting one side of his little red vest. "It has everything I need; specially made clippers, a few high-grade files, and even a honing stone, though I rarely have cause to keep them that sharp."


    Peter laughed again, and I smiled, feeling more and more confident that I was nailing blending in as a completely ordinary cat person.


    "Huh, I wonder if I should see about getting one of those kits myself," I said, dropping my eyes to one of my hands, resting on the bar as I leaned on one elbow. I turned it over and curled my fingers, my claws resting against my palm. They looked as sharp as ever, but I had no way of knowing if they''d stay that way. Not for the first time, I found myself wishing I had another catkin to talk to for advice.


    ¡°Oh, I would have thought¡ª¡± Peter spoke up, before suddenly cutting himself off and starting again. ¡°Ahem, what I meant to say is, I don''t know if you''ll be able to find one in this village, but I''m heading back to the capital in a couple of days, I can pick you up one while I''m there and give it to you the next time my route brings me back here.¡±


    ¡°W-what?¡± I said, blinking, having to go over his words a couple times to fully digest them. ¡°Oh, no, I couldn''t ask you to do something like that, I barely know you.¡±


    ¡°Well, then it is a good thing you didn''t ask me,¡± Peter retorted, chuckling. ¡°Consider it my way of apologizing for my earlier rudeness.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± I opened my mouth to protest that it really hadn''t been that big of a deal, but shut it again with a sigh. It really was hard to get used to just how damn nice everyone was in this village, barring a few notable exceptions. It would probably be more rude to insist against it, so, with a shrug, I gave in.


    ¡°Alright, if you say so, thank you very much,¡± I said, then, tilting my head, I went back to the one part of his statement that I was still confused about. ¡°But, uh, what do you mean by your ¡®route?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Oh, I''m a courier!¡± he said cheerily, and I once again struggled to hold back an incredulous laugh. ¡°I make regular stops at just about every major town and city on Torgard, so it''s really no trouble at all.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I see!¡± I said, feigning excited interest to cover the fact that I''d been fighting back laughter. It wasn''t even that funny, but the idea that he was some kind of literal giant carrier pigeon refused to leave me. ¡°That must be nice, getting to travel all around.¡±


    ¡°It certainly is! I can''t recommend it enough, if you ever get the opportunity, though I imagine it won''t be as easy for you as it is for me,¡± he said, rustling his wings behind him to show what he meant.


    Oh, of course, he could fly. That would definitely make traveling easier.


    Dang, why couldn''t I have been turned into a bird girl, huh?


    I chuckled a little at the silly, not-actually-serious complaint in my head, before I realized I''d not wished, even jokingly, to be a bird man instead.


    Hmm¡­


    ¡°Sam?¡±


    Peter''s voice shook me out of my suddenly racing thoughts, and I blinked.


    ¡°Uh, sorry, what?¡± I said. Had I missed something?


    ¡°Ah, you suddenly looked very perturbed there, I was worried I''d said something to offend again,¡± Peter said, and I quickly shook my head to reassure him.


    ¡°Oh, no no, it''s nothing you said, I was just thinking about¡­ something,¡± I said, quickly sweeping the thought under a rug in my mind. That was something I would have to come back to sometime later. Or never, never was a possibility too.


    ¡°I would like to try that, actually. I have to stay here until I win the Midsummer Fishing Competition, after all. But after that, I wouldn''t mind seeing more of the island,¡± I said, putting on an air of confidence and grinning. Peter laughed along with me, then turned in his seat as Felda finally returned from the kitchen. She was carrying a small bundle wrapped in brown paper in one hand and a plate in the other, the latter of which had a thick slice of slightly-steaming bread, its surface liberally smeared in something pale yellow and dotted with flecks of herbs.


    ¡°Here you are, Peter,¡± Felda said, passing both items to the bird man, who gratefully accepted them. ¡°Sorry for the wait, but I wanted to have a portion toasted for you. I put a bit of that goat''s butter you like on it as well.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that''s certainly alright!¡± Peter replied, beaming, taking the buttered slice from the plate and taking a large bite from it, chewing languidly. ¡°Mmmh, exquisite! Thank you ever so much, Felda.¡±


    Seeing him enjoy the snack so much reminded me that I still had food of my own that was getting cold while I''d been caught up in conversation. Following Peter''s lead, I grabbed one of the chunks of fried perch from the basket in front of me and tossed it into my mouth.


    Immediately, the flavor hit my tongue, and it was mercifully mild compared to some of the other dishes I''d tried before. The breading was just barely there, a whisper of crunchy texture with a hint of spice, wrapped around pearly white flesh that was firm to chew, but flaked easily, the savory taste of fish accompanied by a subtle sweetness. It was a light, but irresistible flavor, and I knew the rest of the basket was not long for this world.


    After I finished scarfing down the small pile of perch portions, washing them down with hardy gulps of lemonade, I was finally able to focus on my surroundings again. I found Peter, standing now, having long since finished his toasted bread, and apparently waiting patiently for me to finish.


    ¡°Ah, uh, sorry¡­¡± I mumbled, a bit more embarrassed to have been seen eating the way I usually did, probably purring the whole time, by a total stranger, but he just tilted his head and tipped his little red cap at me.


    ¡°No worries at all, Sam!¡± he said cheerfully. ¡°I just wanted to bid you farewell for now. If you need to find me again before I set off, you may come visit me at the post office anytime, or wave me down if you see me about town.¡±


    With that, he tucked the bundle of bread into his shoulder bag, hustling across the tavern¡¯s floors with a light clicking sound as his talons tapped against the wood. He paused halfway out the door, turning back to offer a quick, ¡°Ta ta!¡± to the whole room before taking off. Literally, as soon as he¡¯d closed the door behind him, he spread his wings and disappeared into the sky with a single flap.


    Chuckling, I spun back around to finish the last of my lemonade, finding Felda leading back against the shelves behind her, smiling down at me.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, bringing the glass to my lips.


    ¡°I''m just pleased to see you making more friends,¡± Felda explained, and I paused mid-sip, quickly swallowing and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.


    I opened my mouth to protest that Peter and I couldn¡¯t really be called friends yet, as we¡¯d only just met, but thought better of it. I kept having to remind myself that I was in another world now. I knew it wouldn¡¯t be the same story everywhere I went, but the people in this little village were a lot nicer, a lot more friendly, than I was used to. In all likelihood, I would end up becoming friends with Peter, just like I would probably end up becoming friends with Elle and Mel, if the former didn¡¯t consider me one already. Whether I liked it or not, there were probably a lot of new friends in my future, and it was just another thing I was going to have to get used to.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ me too,¡± I finally said, before the silence could stretch on any longer. I felt the smile return to my face and for a moment felt that, maybe, my ending up here in this world wouldn¡¯t turn out to be such a bad thing after all.


    Then, my mouth parted and I let out a protracted yawn that had me tilting my head back and squeezing my eyes shut, almost tipping backwards out of my stool.


    ¡°Wow, that was a big one,¡± Felda said with a chuckle once I¡¯d managed to pry my eyes open again.


    ¡°So-sorry,¡± I stammered, leaning over the bar and rubbing at my cheeks, trying to push off the wave of lethargy that had suddenly settled over me like a particularly aggressive blanket. ¡°I don¡¯t know where that came from.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Felda said, crossing her arms and shooting Bart a quick look across the bar. ¡°You woke up before the crack of dawn and have been out fishing for hours, of course you¡¯re tired.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I said, bringing a hand up to my mouth and failing to stifle the next yawn that forced its way out. ¡°I¡¯ll just have another cup of coffee or something¡­¡±


    ¡°Not from me you won¡¯t,¡± Felda said, her tone a little firmer than I¡¯d expected. ¡°Coffee is nice, but it¡¯s not a potion, nor is it a replacement for rest.¡±


    ¡°And drinking too much of it can make you ill,¡± Bart added, helpfully.


    ¡°I know that,¡± I grumbled, heaving a sigh that turned into another yawn. ¡°I guess I should get up then, go splash some water on my face, maybe do a few laps.¡±


    Felda exchanged a glance with Bart before giving me a confused look, leaning forward and placing a hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°Sam, you don¡¯t have to force yourself to stay awake if you¡¯re tired,¡± she said, surprising me with how concerned she sounded. ¡°Just go have a little more sleep.¡±


    ¡°What? No, I can¡¯t,¡± I protested.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Felda countered.


    I opened my mouth and half a dozen answers leapt to the front of my mind; because it was only a few hours after dawn, because I was a grown adult and didn¡¯t actually need the extra sleep, because I didn¡¯t want to make Elle and Mel have to wait for me when they showed up later, and so on. But, the more I thought about it, the more hollow each one felt, more like excuses than explanations.


    I¡¯d already got in as much fishing practice as Bart was able to give me for the day, I had no other plans until later, and absolutely no one had any other obligations or expectations for me. It was freeing, actually, to realize that there really wasn¡¯t anything stopping me from taking a nap in the middle of the day if I felt like it.


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± I said, my eyes having slipped off Felda¡¯s face and into a corner of the ceiling as I thought. I blinked, refocusing, and turned back to Felda, letting out a surprised chuckle.


    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right,¡± I said, causing her to look even more confused. I reached up, patting the back of the hand that was still on my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll go take a quick cat nap, wake me up when Elle and Mel show up.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ okay, I will,¡± Felda said, seeming to take a moment to recover from my sudden turnaround and moving her hand from my shoulder to my head, just for a second. ¡°I¡¯ll see you in a few hours then.¡±


    Relishing the far-too-brief sensation of another pat on the head, I nodded and slid down off the stool.


    ¡°I¡¯ll seeya then,¡± I said, another yawn escaping my lips that I did nothing to stifle, making my way towards the stairs behind the bar. Then, pausing just before the corner, I turned back and met Felda¡¯s and Bart¡¯s gazes, both of them having watched me make my exit, and smiled at them.


    ¡°And, uh, thank you, both of you,¡± I said, not quite able to keep meeting their eyes directly as I spoke, looking down towards the floor instead. ¡°I know I¡¯ve said it a lot already but I¡¯m just¡­ really grateful for everything you¡¯ve done for me so far. I¡¯m gona do my best to make it up to you.¡±


    God, was I always such a sap, or had I just become one since coming to this place? I felt my cheeks heating up a little at my embarrassingly sincere declaration, but it was just something I needed to say, and I knew neither of them would mock me for it either.


    But, that didn¡¯t mean I was going to stick around to hear their responses, so I quickly spun on my heels and hurried to the stairs, taking them as quickly as I could while still fighting the ever-increasing urge to collapse onto the rug and take my nap right there in the hall.


    On my way to the door to Felda¡¯s room I noticed, perhaps for the first time, that the little hallway to her bedroom was decorated similarly to the one on the second floor. There was the rug, and a couple of paintings, but there was one object that stood out so much I couldn¡¯t believe I hadn¡¯t seen it before. It was a bookshelf, placed up against the wall on the same side as Felda¡¯s room, situated almost halfway between her door and the stairs, but ever so slightly off-center. That slightly uneven placement was what drew my eye as I passed, and I had enough time to spare a thought to how odd it seemed before another yawn made me pick up my feet again and continue towards the bedroom. With just enough energy left to kick off my sandals, I fell forward onto Felda¡¯s bed face first, dropping off to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.7

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 7


    ¡ö


    Unlike when I¡¯d been woken up by Felda early in the morning, and came out of it feeling like I was trying to swim my way out of quicksand, I woke up from my impromptu nap entirely on my own and felt not just well-rested, but fully refreshed and brimming with energy.


    ¡°Huh¡­.¡± I said aloud as I lay there on my back, my arms and legs sprawled out across the ridiculously wide bed.


    ¡°Is this another cat power?¡± I asked the ceiling of Felda¡¯s room. I got no answer. Not like I was expecting one. It seemed possible, to me anyway; cats were kind of known for sleeping on and off multiple times throughout the day, weren¡¯t they? I couldn''t remember the word for it, but I was sure Morgan would have.


    Well, I guess I''d just have to see. Grunting slightly, I hopped up out of Felda¡¯s bed, landing on my feet and poking around for my sandals. I hadn''t changed out of my clothes to sleep, so I didn''t need to get dressed, and soon I stepped back out into the little hallway that led to the main room. I once again took a moment to note the oddly placed bookshelf as I passed, then stepped down off the stairs, entering the tavern proper.


    I found Felda once again cleaning one of the tavern¡¯s tables as I approached her, which also struck me as odd. Hadn''t she been doing that when we arrived? How long did it usually take her to do them all? I also didn''t see Bart anywhere, but that wasn''t odd at all, he probably had other stuff to do. He was a fisherman too, right?


    ¡°Where¡¯d Bart go?¡± I asked, which Felda responded to with a startled yelp, spinning around to face me.


    ¡°Oh!¡± she gasped, putting a hand over her heart, letting out a laugh. ¡°It''s just you, Sam!¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, scratching the back of my head with a sheepish smile. I hadn''t even been trying to sneak up on her, but I guessed I was more light on my feet than I realized.


    ¡°I''m going to have to put a bell on you if you don''t stop startling me,¡± Felda joked, recovering quickly from her surprise. At least, I hoped she was joking. Then, remembering that I''d asked a question, she motioned to the doors. ¡°Bart''s headed out onto the bay, he''s got to bring in his own catch after all.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said, nodding, that made sense. Then, Felda followed up with a question of her own.


    ¡°What are you doing up again already?¡± Felda asked, looking me over. ¡°Were you not able to get to sleep? It was the coffee wasn''t it?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I questioned her back, tilting my head. ¡°No, no, I fell asleep right away. Why, how long has it been?¡±


    Felda continued to give me a curious look before reaching onto one of her pockets, pulling out a palm-sized circular object made of what looked like gold.


    ¡°It''s barely been an hour,¡± Felda answered, looking up and tucking what I realized was a ridiculously expensive-looking pocket watch back into her pocket.


    ¡°Huh, really?¡± I asked as I looked down at myself. ¡°I feel like I just got a full night''s sleep and then some.¡±


    Then, realizing there were probably few things more suspicious than being confused about my own sleeping patterns, I cleared my throat and put on a grin, shrugging.


    ¡°Ah, I mean, obviously I do!¡± I spoke airily, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°It''s just a catkin thing, y¡¯know? Honestly, I''m surprised I napped for a whole hour!¡±


    Okay maybe I was overdoing it a bit, but I had just woken up, after all.


    ¡°I¡­ see,¡± Felda said after a moment, nodding her head. ¡°Well, Elle and Mel aren''t going to be here for another hour themselves.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, furrowing my brow. I guess that meant I had some free time then. I probably could have just gone right back to Felda¡¯s room and laid back down, but I felt too energized to go back to sleep. Tilting my head, I looked up to Felda.


    ¡°D''you need any help?¡± I asked, and Felda''s familiar smile returned, but she shook her head.


    ¡°Mmh, perhaps next time. I appreciate the offer, but I''m nearly finished here,¡± Felda explained, waving at the one remaining table with its stools still stacked atop it. ¡°I''m sorry that I don''t have any¡­ anything for you to entertain yourself with, but if you give me a moment, I could maybe find something.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes slightly at Felda''s momentary hesitation. Had she been about to say ¡°toys?¡± I was reasonably sure she was, but the real question was whether it was because she thought I was a child, or because she thought I was a cat.


    It did make me stop and seriously think about the world I found myself in, and wonder what people actually did for fun. There were probably bards, right? And things like traveling acting troupes and street performers, but did this little village have any of those? Something else to look into later, at the moment I still had an hour to kill, and no clue how I was going to fill the time.


    ¡°Now I see why Bart''s always carrying around that book,¡± I said, bringing a hand to my chin. Then, realizing I¡¯d just answered my own question, I snapped my fingers. ¡°Oh, duh!¡±


    Turning to Felda, I pointed over my shoulder with a thumb.


    ¡°Do you mind if I poke through your bookshelf for a book to read while I wait?¡± I asked. I expected an answer right away, but Felda hesitated, only for a second, before her head lifted and she nodded.


    ¡°Oh, no, go right ahead,¡± she said, turning away to grab another chair from atop a table and turn it over, placing it down on the floor, speaking with her back turned to me. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll probably find most of them dreadfully boring, but I think there are a couple of stories in there as well.¡±


    ¡°Okay, thanks,¡± I said, leaving Felda to her work and making my way back to the hallway behind the bar.


    I stood before the bookshelf, getting my first actual look at its contents. As I traced my eyes over the titles pressed into the sides or covers of the books, I once again experienced a moment of confusion as the words failed to resolve into readable text, until they suddenly did.


    ¡°Probably just tired¡­¡± I said, failing to convince even myself. Just another thing to worry about later. Shaking my head, I started actually checking out what sorts of books Felda had.


    The first thing I noticed were the cookbooks, which accounted for about a third of the books on the shelves, and not just books on cooking seafood either. While I was interested in checking some of those out sometime, they didn¡¯t seem that interesting to read, and I didn¡¯t want to make myself hungry again, so I skipped the cookbooks and kept looking.


    The next couple books I pulled out turned out to be historical records about various nations or kingdoms, including a couple on ¡°the Kingdom of Torgard.¡± I was confused at first, because I was pretty sure Torgard was the name of the island too, but I eventually figured one was just named after the other. While those probably would have some useful information in them, they presented the same problem as the cookbooks, namely, they sounded pretty boring to read.


    ¡°Next,¡± I said, reshelving the large blue book with a golden turtle on the cover, kneeling down to get a look at the books lower down on the shelf. I passed over more histories, more cookbooks, and a couple of atlases and almanacs before I found something that actually piqued my interests. At first I thought they were just more history books, but realized they were actually collections of myths, legends, and folklore.


    ¡°Bingo,¡± I said, choosing one at random and pulling it from the shelf.


    Tucking the book under my arm, I returned to the main room, where Felda was just finishing getting the last table set up. I moved to the secluded booth in the far corner half hidden by the stairs, Bart¡¯s usual spot, and slid into it, lying sideways across the bench and propping my back up against the wall with the book in my lap.


    The book I¡¯d chosen turned out to be a series of stories about the various deities of this world, both major and minor, and the simple yet fanciful way it was written made it clear it was geared towards younger readers. I wondered why Felda would have something like this on her bookshelf, but I wasn¡¯t going to complain, especially if it helped me kill an hour and fill in some of the blank spots in my knowledge of the world.


    Skimming down the table of contents, several of the titles jumped out at me, but one in particular caught my gaze and held it there for much longer than the others.


    ¡°¡®The Eternal Lovers,¡¯ huh?¡± I mumbled, flipping to the indicated page. I intended to just take a quick peek to see what the gist of the story was, but quickly found myself getting engrossed in the tale. It told the story of two of the minor deities; Soliel, the Goddess of the day, and Sera, Goddess of the night, set during some vague period of time early on in the creation of the world before mortals existed. It was, very obviously, a love story, starting from when the two goddesses were bitter rivals who competed over which one¡¯s chosen affinity was superior and which one deserved to have the most time allotted to them throughout the day.


    This progressed into a grudging stalemate, and then, eventually, into a growing friendship, as each goddess had their eyes opened to facets of the other that they had previously overlooked. The story then finally blossomed into a full-on romance, complete with some overly flowery descriptions of the two expounding on the depths of each other¡¯s beauty in passages that I was a little surprised could end up in a book for kids.


    This wound up leading to the opposite problem from the start of the story, with the two goddesses now spending so much time together that the world was caught in a permanent twilight, causing some of the other gods to, unsuccessfully, attempt to split the pair up. It apparently got so bad that The Goddess of Love and War, one of the major deities, had to step in and show the two how neglecting their individual duties and focusing only on being with each other at all times was throwing the newly formed world out of order.


    The story came to an end with the two having learned their lesson and resolving to share the day evenly between them, with the amount of time each one remained active fluctuating throughout the year, so that days were longer in the summer and shorter in the winter. The final line of the story was a passage explaining how the two come together every day at sunrise and sunset, embracing each other and savoring every second they had until they eventually part ways again, and by the end of it I was having trouble seeing the words on the page through the sudden tears in my eyes, despite myself.


    ¡°Sammie?¡±


    A voice broke me out of the trance I¡¯d slipped into, sliding deeper and deeper into the booth as I became fully engrossed in the story. Sitting up and blinking my eyes in an attempt to clear them, I found Elle standing at the edge of the booth.


    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± she asked, concern written all over her face, and I hurriedly brushed at my eyes, rubbing away the tears that hadn¡¯t quite started to flow freely as I finished the story.


    ¡°Y-yeah, I¡¯m fine!¡± I quickly assured her, holding up the book in my other hand. ¡°I was just¡­ reading something and it¡­it was¡­¡±


    I stalled, too embarrassed to admit I¡¯d nearly cried while reading a children¡¯s fable, but Elle immediately grasped what I meant, cocking her head to look at the book I¡¯d been reading.


    ¡°Ooooh, I know that book, my mother used to read it to me back home,¡± she said, smiling, then giving me a knowing nod. ¡°I bet I know which story it was.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ it wasn¡¯t¡­¡± I tried in vain to work up some kind of defense, but Elle was relentless. At least she leaned forward and lowered her voice, if only slightly.


    ¡°It was Soliel and Sera, wasn¡¯t it?¡± she asked, and I had no choice but to bite my lip and nod. Elle made a sympathetic awwing noise and nodded, reaching a hand out to help me up out of the booth. ¡°Knew it. That one still makes me cry too.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I asked, taking the offered hand and sliding out of the booth and onto my feet, my eyes thankfully dry and no longer in danger of spilling over. I had been worried before that there was something off about my emotions since coming to this world, and took my heightened reaction to such a simple love story as just more evidence. ¡°I, uh, I just hadn¡¯t read it in a long time¡­¡±


    I definitely couldn¡¯t admit that it was my first time reading it, that would likely only raise questions I didn¡¯t want to answer. Glancing around, I found Mel across the room at the bar, chatting with Felda. The two of them must have entered while I was too focused on the story¡¯s conclusion to notice.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back,¡± I mumbled to Elle, grabbing the book and skipping around her, hurrying past the bar to return it to the bookshelf. Then, instead of returning to the main room, I went back to Felda¡¯s room, ending up standing in front of the tall mirror she had in the corner, staring at myself.


    I was suddenly nervous, but at least I knew why. While the outing I¡¯d agreed to was, on the surface, just to go shopping for some better-fitting clothes and maybe a few essential items I was missing, it was also going to mean I¡¯d be spending an extended amount of time with two people much closer to my own age than Bart or Felda. Even if they¡¯d both agreed ahead of time not to dig into the circumstances surrounding my past, there was still going to be an unavoidable amount of socializing involved, and as usual, the thought of that sent my mind racing.


    ¡°Different world, same problems, huh?¡± I asked my reflection bitterly, my hands tightly gripping the sides of the mirror. Could I just cancel? Tell them I wasn¡¯t feeling up to it today? No, that would likely only make me feel worse about wasting their time, and I needed to buy something to wear other than the ill-fitting hand-me-downs. I asked myself if I¡¯d prefer just wandering around the village trying different stores at random hoping they¡¯d have what I needed, which, obviously, I wouldn¡¯t.


    So, I decided I was going to have to bite the bullet and go hang out with the nice elf girls who wanted to show me around town, and just pray I didn¡¯t embarrass myself.


    ¡°Hey, it won¡¯t be so bad,¡± I assured myself, combing my fingers and claws through my hair in a futile attempt to restore some order to it. ¡°You¡¯re a girl now too, right? That¡¯s gota count for something, right?¡±


    While that didn¡¯t totally wipe away the rest of my nerves, it did make me feel a bit better, and by the time I finished fussing with my hair and took a step back, I felt much more composed and ready to tackle the task ahead of me.


    But, for good measure, I spent an extra ten seconds looking into the mirror making various faces while pumping myself up just a little more.


    Finally, I returned to the main room to join Elle and Mel.


    The pair stepped away from the bar to greet me; Elle moved forward to sweep her arms around me and give me a squeeze, similar to how she¡¯d done when she first saw me the night before, while Mel hung back, wearing a fractional smile on the half of her face that I could see, the other half-hidden by her long dark hair.


    ¡°There you aaaaare!¡± Elle giggled as she hugged me, and I was once again treated to the odd citrusy scent that seemed to exude from her. She stepped back, clapping her hands together and beaming down at me. ¡°Ready to go?¡±


    No, not at all! I screamed inside my head.


    ¡°Yeah, uh, almost,¡± I said, turning to Felda, who was half watching us from behind the bar, half poking through the bottles on her shelves, once again checking her stock. ¡°Felda, can I get the rest of the money from last night?¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course,¡± she said, half turning and reaching under the counter, retrieving the familiar brown cloth sack of coins the patrons of the tavern had ¡°donated¡± the previous night after my confrontation with Bentley. I still wasn¡¯t thrilled about having them or using them, but I saw little point in being stubborn about it. Felda would never take them off me, and it would be impossible to get them all back to the people they¡¯d come from, so, I snatched up the sack and stuffed it into my pockets, then nodded to Elle and Mel.


    ¡°Ready,¡± I proclaimed, and we set off from the tavern.


    We left the docks and took the same road behind the tavern that Bart had led me down the day before, the only difference being that Elle also kept getting distracted by looking into the windows of the various bakeries we passed. We took the same turn at the corner intersection and in no time I found myself on the wide main street of the village of Rower¡¯s Rest, once again marveling at the amount of people and carts passing by on the paved road.


    ¡°Okay!¡± Elle exclaimed, clapping her hands and turning to face me. ¡°First things first, we need to get you some clothes that suit you.¡±


    I looked down at my clothes, the rough tan-colored shirt with sleeves that threatened to slip down over my hands at any moment, and the dark brown pants that I had to keep rolled up to prevent the legs from dragging on the ground. The nicest looking thing I was wearing were my red leather sandals. By contrast, Elle and Mel¡¯s outfits, for they could actually be called outfits, were much nicer.


    Elle wore a light green dress that matched her darker green hair and complimented her lemon-yellow skin, with long detached sleeves that flowed down to her wrists, swishing about with every wild movement of her arms. There were patterns of leafy vines with yellow and pink flowers embroidered around the edges of the sleeves and the short hem of her dress, under which she wore a pair of thin white stockings and a pair of slippers made of some emerald-colored material that shined in the midday sun and which somehow seemed to resist becoming coated in dirt from the road as she walked.


    Mel¡¯s outfit was less flashy, but no less well-coordinated, consisting of a low-cut, dark-blue tunic with elbow-length sleeves, held in place by a tightly cinched, high-collared black leather vest which acted almost like a corset. The pants she wore were the same dark material as her vest and came to a stop just below her knees and just above her sturdy black boots.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± I said, looking up from my quick appraisal of their outfits. Then, I hastily put up a finger and added, ¡°But I''m not wearing any dresses!¡±


    ¡°Awww!¡± Elle all but whined, causing Mel to let out a chuckle and pat her on the back.


    ¡°I told you,¡± Mel said with the smug satisfaction of someone who had just won a bet. She turned her eyes on me and gave me a reassuring nod. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I agreed to come along.¡±


    ¡°Fiiiiiine,¡± Elle said, pouting at her friend before looking back my way, the blinding smile back on her face. ¡°That¡¯s fine, for today, but I will get you in one eventually, you¡¯re too cute not to!¡±


    Just like when she¡¯d said I would look adorable in their uniforms the night before, Elle¡¯s words immediately flustered me, and by the time I had my thoughts together enough to think about uttering anything, even a ¡°thank you,¡± we¡¯d already moved on, the pair leading the way with me trailing behind them. The two shared a quiet discussion between themselves about where we¡¯d be heading first, with Mel eventually taking the lead, and eventually bringing us to the front of one of the many tailor¡¯s shops I remembered passing by with Bart.


    Once inside the shop, with the door shutting out the din from the streets, I let out a breath I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d been holding, and looked around. The floor of the shop was very open, with most of what I saw on display being bolts of variously colored cloths in all sorts of materials I couldn¡¯t name, but there were also several wooden mannequins stood up by the windows and against one wall, all wearing different outfits of wildly varying levels of ostentatiousness.


    ¡°This place feels too¡­ expensive for me,¡± I muttered quietly as I finished glancing around. ¡°This stuff all looks custom too¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t even worry about that,¡± Elle said, shaking her head and putting a hand on my back, guiding me towards the counter. ¡°We¡¯ll visit one of the other shops after for some less expensive everyday clothes, but you need a few nicer things that were made just for you, trust me.¡±


    Well, I had no real argument against that, so I just nodded and stepped up to the counter. It was currently empty, but as we approached, a voice called out from behind the hanging curtain that blocked the open doorway to the back room.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be with you in just a moment!¡± the voice, crisp and clear and slightly bassy, called out, and Elle giggled.


    ¡°Take your time, Dani, it¡¯s just us!¡± Elle shouted back, cupping a hand around her mouth. Her words seemed to have the opposite effect, as the voice behind the curtain made a startled noise, and after a series of hurried clattering noises followed by a rhythmic jangling, a large woman burst out from the back room, beaming at the three of us.


    The first thing I noticed was that she was another elf, having long pointed ears and pale pink skin that gradually darkened to a rich magenta from her elbows to her fingertips, dappled here and there with black freckles. As expected from a seamstress, even her work clothes looked nice: a breezy-looking loosely tied white silk shirt that was tucked into a high-waisted black skirt that went down to her ankles, under a pink apron with pockets stuffed full of bits of cloth and sewing supplies. Her hair was an impressive mass of pink curls that was long on top, but cut short at the sides, piled high and pulled into a huge braided ponytail that tumbled down her back, and her eyes were a deep amethyst that twinkled as she swept them over our group.


    ¡°Elle, my darling, you¡¯re early!¡± the woman exclaimed, bustling over with her arms thrown wide, causing the collection of large silver bangles on her wrists to jangle again. Elle, mirroring the woman¡¯s enthusiasm, shared a quick embrace that culminated in Elle bowing her head while the other elf placed a quick peck on her forehead. ¡°How long has it been?¡±


    ¡°A week,¡± Mel said dryly.


    ¡°A whole week?¡± the woman said, aghast, moving over and taking one of Mel¡¯s hands in both of hers. The other elf rolled her eyes, but still ducked her head down as the taller woman kissed her forehead as well. ¡°You really must visit more often, you especially Melly dear, I don¡¯t see nearly enough of you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because I don¡¯t buy as many clothes as Elle,¡± Mel said, extracting herself from the woman and stepping back, leaving me in her direct path. The woman''s eyes practically lit up as they settled fully onto me, and I felt myself shrinking back, but thankfully she only stepped up and held a hand to the center of her chest before extending it out towards me like she was handing me something.


    ¡°And you must be the little cat girl I¡¯ve heard so much about,¡± she said, smiling sweetly. ¡°My name is Danella Dewglass, but please, call me Dani.¡±


    Brushing off the reminder that I was still the talk of the town, I contemplated how to respond to her greeting. She wasn¡¯t holding her hand like she expected a shake, as it was her left hand that was extended, palm up and fingers together, similar to but not quite the same as what Peter had done earlier. At a loss for what else to do, I just copied the same gesture she had done, touching my chest then holding my hand out.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m, uh, I¡¯m Samantha Fisher, but just call me Sam,¡± I said. Behind Dani, I thought I saw Elle jerk suddenly, but my eyes were drawn back to the pink elf as she tittered, nodding towards my awkwardly outstretched hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I forgot, Elle told me you have little experience with elves, here,¡± she said, reaching out with her other hand and turning my hand over, then placing it over top of hers, very gently grasping it with her fingers. Then, slowly so I could follow along, she turned her arm over so that the positions were reversed, and my hand was under hers, then nodded her head. ¡°And there, just like that. Easy, hmm?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± I said, finally taking my hand back.


    ¡°Good, and now that the formalities are out of the way,¡± Dani said, her smile growing as she stepped forward, crushing me into a hug. ¡°It is a joy to meet you Sam, what can I do for you today?¡±


    Thankfully, she released me quickly, and didn¡¯t kiss me on the forehead, but that hardly mattered, as I was already plenty flustered again just from how intense she was. She was like Elle, only cranked up to eleven, so much so that I found myself wondering if they were related in some way. Stepping back to give myself a little extra space, I glanced around Dani¡¯s shop again.


    ¡°Uh, I need some clothes?¡± I said, unsure.


    ¡°Yes, yes, but what sorts of clothes, what styles are you partial to, what fabrics do you prefer, what are your favorite colors?¡± Dani bombarded me with questions, and I brought a hand to my chin, pondering them all. I knew what kind of clothes I liked to wear back on Earth, but I doubted I¡¯d get anywhere asking for ¡°loose t-shirts and baggy jeans¡± from this professional seamstress.


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ really know that much about clothes, but¡­¡± I muttered, stalling while I continued to think.


    Did I really want to go right back to dressing the same way I always had, anyway? While I knew I wasn¡¯t ready to try wearing anything as bold as some of the complicated-looking dresses I saw on display around the shop, that didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t try something else out, something outside of my usual preferences.


    And so, while idly poking around the shop at the various mannequins and their outfits, I found one that was wearing an ensemble consisting of a long sleeved purple coat on top of a black sleeveless shirt that had a wide neckline, almost like a tank top, except with a V-shaped cut in the center, loosely held shut with leather laces. I turned to Dani, who¡¯d been following me in silence from a distance.


    ¡°Something like this,¡± I said, and Dani came closer to the mannequin in question. Then, to clarify, I added, ¡°Not the jacket, just the shirt, and without any of the fancy embroidery, if that¡¯s alright.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, I see,¡± Dani said, humming as she pulled the jacket down the mannequin¡¯s arms slightly, looking from the shirt to me. ¡°Yes, I can definitely have a few of these made up for you in a more simple style. How many were you thinking of ordering?¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know how many I¡¯ll be able to afford, but I¡¯d like to at least have one for every day of the week, so, seven?¡± I said, though I knew from experience I wasn¡¯t likely to change my clothes nearly that often unless they got very dirty.


    ¡°Er¡­¡±


    Dani made a noise and cleared her throat, causing me to turn from the mannequin to her, and I found her giving me an oddly strained smile.


    ¡°Did¡­ you mean to say ¡®five¡¯, dear?¡± she asked patiently, and I nearly slapped myself in the face at my carelessness. Instead, I quickly played it off with a laugh.


    ¡°Oh, ah-ha, yes, that¡¯s what I meant,¡± I said, bringing a hand to my forehead and sighing. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I had a busy morning and I only just woke back up from a nap, yes, I meant to say five, of course.¡±


    Dani laughed along and nodded understandingly, and I heaved a heavy mental sigh of relief. Honestly, how was I supposed to know this crazy fantasy world didn¡¯t have the same number of days per week as back on Earth? That wasn¡¯t something you just asked about! At the very least, it seemed like I¡¯d dodged another bullet, as Dani quickly went back to sorting out what I wanted.


    ¡°Is cotton alright, or would you prefer wool for a bit of extra warmth?¡± she asked, and I glanced out the window at the brightly lit streets outside.


    ¡°Uh, cotton is fine for now, I can just buy a coat once it gets cold,¡± I said, glossing over the fact that there was no telling if I¡¯d still be living in this village by the time the weather started to change.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Dani said, having produced a small slate and a piece of chalk at some point, scratching something down on it before waving to one of the shelves against the nearby wall which held several bolts of dyed cloth. ¡°Here are a few samples of the cotton I have available, are there any colors you¡¯re particularly fond of?¡±


    I ran my fingers lightly over a roll of the soft cloth, careful of my claws, and looked over the various shades.


    ¡°Mmmh, I like these dark colors,¡± I said, pointing to a row of rolls near the bottom which contained a series of colors ranging from a pale gray to coal black, picking one in the middle of the row that was slightly lighter. ¡°This one, maybe?¡±


    ¡°Ah, the sable, very well,¡± Dani said, adding something to the slate she held. ¡°Any others?¡±


    I opened my mouth to refuse, but reminded myself that I was supposed to be trying to push out of my normal boundaries. To that end, I reached a little higher, snagging the edge of a bolt of sky blue cloth.


    ¡°Maybe one or two of them in this color?¡± I ventured, taking Dani¡¯s widening smile as a good sign.


    ¡°Oh, royal blue, always popular!¡± Dani said, enthusiastically adding the detail to her slate. ¡°Is there anything else you¡¯d like, any embellishments or patterns?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no, not this time,¡± I said, wary of ordering unnecessary additions, especially since I still wasn¡¯t sure how much I was going to wind up spending in this store alone. ¡°I guess that just leaves pants.¡±


    I spent a few moments looking over the outfits on display for anything that might catch my eye, but none of the pants on display looked like something I''d want to wear, either because they were too overcomplicated and flashy, or simply looked too tight to be comfortable.


    ¡°What I wouldn''t give for just a pair of baggy shorts¡­¡± I mumbled to myself.


    ¡°What was that, dear?¡± Dani asked, moving a little closer.


    ¡°Ah, nothing, just talking to myself,¡± I said, then, before she could step back again I held up a hand. ¡°Actually, wait. If I described a type of clothing to you, could you make it?¡±


    ¡°Why, of course,¡± Dani said, holding her head high and beaming. ¡°That''s what I do.¡±


    Bolstered by her confidence, I began excitedly describing exactly what I wanted.


    ¡°Okay, well, I want two, or, no, three pairs of pants, but I want them to be cut short, like¡­¡± I bent slightly, holding my hand just above my knee. ¡°This long, and I want them loose, so they''re easy to move in.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see,¡± Dani said as she scratched rapidly at her slate with the chalk. ¡°I did figure you for the more active type, so I take it you''ll want them to be somewhat durable as well?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yes, but nothing too heavy or rough,¡± I said, and Dani hummed, tapping her chin before turning, motioning for me to follow.


    ¡°I have just the thing, here.¡± She led me to another rack of cloth samples, placing her hand on a folded stack of a beige, thickly knit fabric.


    ¡°This is hemp, blended with cotton,¡± Dani explained, and I raised an eyebrow, reaching out to feel the fabric with my fingers. It did indeed feel thicker than the pure cotton by itself, and a bit rougher, but not nearly as bad as I expected. ¡°It will require some breaking in at first, but it¡¯s incredibly durable for its weight while still being remarkably breathable. Anything made with it should last you a long time, no matter how active you are.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­ well, I¡¯m sold,¡± I said, smiling, looking at the available colors. There were many darker shades, and my eyes were drawn to those first, but I also saw another bolt of a very rich, very dark blue color that I thought would pair well with the lighter blue I¡¯d picked out for my shirts.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take two in this black color here, and one in this dark blue,¡± I said, indicating the samples on the shelf to Dani.


    ¡°Oooh, the midnight blue, very good,¡± Dani said cheerfully as she noted my choices down. ¡°Are there any other features you''d like?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, breaking into a grin. ¡°Pockets!¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, I was going to include pockets¡ª¡± Dani started to say, but I shook my head.


    ¡°No no, not just the normal pockets, extra pockets,¡± I explained, reaching down and patting the sides of my legs, just about mid-thigh. ¡°Right down here, the kind that are sewn to the outside, like a big pouch, you know?¡±


    Dani seemed at a loss for words at first, but her mouth opened and her eyebrows raised in realization.


    ¡°Ah, like component pouches on an alchemist''s coat?¡± she asked, directing me towards one of the mannequins I¡¯d passed over before. It was wearing a very sturdy looking long coat made of brown leather that almost touched the floor, and as Dani walked over and pulled one of the sides open, I saw that the inside was dotted with half a dozen pockets large enough to fit a fist inside.


    ¡°Yes, exactly like that,¡± I said, snapping my fingers. ¡°Except just two of them, and a little bigger than these.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, this is certainly a novel idea for a pair of pants, I¡¯m quite interested to see the results,¡± Dani said, once again scratching away at her slate. ¡°Will that be all?¡±


    ¡°Yup, I think so,¡± I said, nodding.


    ¡°Good, then if you¡¯ll just step this way, I can get your measurements,¡± Dani said, reaching into her apron and producing a rolled-up measuring tape.


    Nodding, I turned to follow her, catching sight of Elle and Mel across the shop. They looked like they¡¯d been examining a few of the bolts of fabric, but when I looked over at them, I found them both glancing my way as I passed. When they noticed me watching them, they both averted their gazes with such speed that I was left confused, and more than a little suspicious.


    Catching up to Dani, I followed her as she led me around the counter, lifting the curtain out of the way and ushering me into the back room.


    The back of the seamstress¡¯ shop was much less neatly arranged than the front had been. Not that it was a mess, but that it was an area that obviously wasn¡¯t meant to present the same face as the front of the store. It was a workshop, and one that very clearly saw a lot of use, with multiple tables lined up against the walls, their surfaces covered with either paper patterns or articles of clothing in various stages of construction. The center of the room was occupied by a trio of mannequins also dressed in in-progress outfits held together by metal pins, as well as a raised circular platform, which Dani motioned for me to step up onto.


    I did so, and she unraveled the tape measure, stretching it out between her fingers and stepping around behind me.


    ¡°Okay dear, now hold your back straight and let me¡­¡± She trailed off and I felt her laying the tape measure across my shoulders.


    ¡°Very good, and now, arms up.¡± She knelt, and her arms reached around my torso from behind, pulling the tape measure against my midsection. I heard her hum, and she released it again just as quickly. Moving with a speed and efficiency that left me a little dizzy, she circled me several times, taking measurements of every possible angle of every section of my body, noting down each one in turn. Then, before I knew it, she was finished.


    Or so I thought, but when I started to step down from the platform, Dani stopped me, still holding the tape measure in one hand.


    ¡°Ah, we¡¯re not quite done yet,¡± she said, looking at me expectantly, but I had no clue what she could be talking about, and she eventually noticed my confusion, letting out a light chuckle. ¡°I mean I need you to remove your shirt, dear, I need to measure your chest.¡±


    I blinked, feeling like I had suddenly missed a beat, and tilted my head, staring up into Dani''s bright purple eyes.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I asked, certain that I must have misheard her.


    Smiling sympathetically, Dani simply lowered her voice and repeated the request.


    ¡°I need to measure you without your shirt in the way. It will only take a moment, I promise.¡±


    ¡°Is that really necessary?¡± I asked, and Dani pursed her lips at my question.


    ¡°Well, yes, if you¡¯re going to be fitted for proper undergarments,¡± Dani replied matter-of-factly, and I instantly felt the first hints of heat rising to my cheeks. I tried to say something, but found myself at a loss for words, so I was left just standing there with my mouth slightly open, and Dani once again picked up on my distress.


    ¡°Is something the matter, Sam?¡± she asked, her brows arched in concern.


    That was enough to snap me out of my stupor and shake my head vigorously.


    ¡°No no, I¡¯m fine! I just¡­ uh¡­¡±


    I was being stupid, this was obviously going to come up at some point. Whether I was fully ready to address it or not, my body was radically different from the one I was used to, and not just because it had cat ears and a tail. While I didn¡¯t exactly know what women wore under their clothes in actual historical times, I could probably hazard a guess, and with how bizarrely advanced in some aspects this world seemed to be, a bra would be the least surprising thing to discover existed here.


    And, whether I liked it or not, I had enough sense to know that if I actually was going to take up running anytime soon, I was going to need one.


    ¡°Right, let¡¯s just¡­ get this over with quickly,¡± I said, sighing and turning my back to Dani. My cheeks were already on fire, and I knew it was likely only about to get worse. As much as I really wanted to believe otherwise, I knew it was unlikely that I could have totally avoided being seen naked by anyone else ever for as long as I lived in this world, especially considering I already knew baths in this village were apparently communal, not to mention the fact that I shared a room with Felda.


    I guess it''s better to get it out of the way now, at least.


    Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the bottom of my borrowed shirt and pulled it up over my head, having to tug my arms out of the long sleeves, before dropping it in a loose pile on the pedestal in front of me. Standing with my back straight, I lifted my arms and tried not to shiver at the sudden chill.


    ¡°Alright, go ahead,¡± I said, closing my eyes and bracing myself for the sensation of Dani pressing the measuring tape against my body, but it never came. Hesitantly, I lowered my arms again.


    ¡°Umm¡­¡± I began to speak, and heard Dani start behind me.


    ¡°Ah, my apologies!¡± She sounded more off-balance than I felt, like she''d been completely thrown off her rhythm, but I resisted the urge to turn around and look at her as she continued.


    ¡°I hope you do not take offense to my asking, but¡­ how old are you, dear?¡±


    I furrowed my brow, wondering what that had to do with anything, and turned my head halfway to answer.


    ¡°Uh, nineteen, why?¡±


    I could only see her out of the corner of one eye, but that was enough to see the way her head tilted and her expression shifted at my answer. She seemed even more surprised and incredulous than Bart had been.


    ¡°Oh,¡± was the first thing she managed to say once she composed herself, followed up by a giggle as she tried to get back on track. ¡°Funny, that¡¯s nowhere close to what either of the girls guessed.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, though I immediately realized what she meant, and narrowed my eyes, asking the obvious follow up question before I could stop myself, ¡°How old did they think I was?¡±


    ¡°Ah, well, Mel had assumed you to be as old as¡­ sixteen, at most?¡± Dani¡¯s voice was strained, and I could already tell she didn¡¯t think she should be the one telling me this. I felt my brow furrowing and, when she didn¡¯t continue on her own, I sighed.


    ¡°And Elle?¡±


    It was the only question left to ask, and Dani stalled as long as she could before, finally, leaning forward and lowering her voice, giving me the answer.


    ¡°Her estimation was¡­ fourteen.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± I shouted, my voice going so high it cracked and became an outraged squeak. Embarrassment be damned, I¡¯d spun around to face Dani, scrutinizing her face for any signs that she¡¯d been pulling some kind of terrible, obtuse joke, but as far as I could tell she looked completely serious.


    ¡°Ah, is everything okay back there?¡± Elle¡¯s concerned voice drifted in from just outside the curtain that blocked off the front room from the back.


    Dani must have known what I was about to do even before I did, because she tried to reach out to put a hand on my shoulder, but I was already hopping down off the platform and stomping towards the curtain before she could stop me. Grabbing the edge of the fabric, I shoved it aside and earned a yelp of surprise from Elle, who¡¯d been hovering just outside the doorway.


    ¡°You thought I was fourteen?¡± I asked, or rather, demanded from the stunned and wide-eyed elf girl.


    ¡°A-ah, uh, w-well¡­¡± Elle stammered, taking a step back and throwing her hands up. She held my glare for several seconds before her eyes rolled up, very pointedly staring at the ceiling as she worked to force out an answer, her cheeks taking on a green tinge for some reason. ¡°Well, I¡­ certainly don¡¯t anymore¡­¡±


    Behind her, further into the main room of the shop, Mel, who had always been the more taciturn of the two, began cackling so hard she doubled over, having to put a hand on the figure next to her to steady herself. With a chill running up my spine that had nothing to do with the fact that I was, to my horror, still topless, I realized another person must have entered the store after I¡¯d left. They were one of the ubiquitous druids, clad head to toe in a uniform of brown and green robes, though their hood was down, and their face was covered by a wooden mask with vine-shaped inlays carved into it, and large, round, glass lenses for eyes that gave the whole thing an appropriately surprised-looking expression. Their head was, thankfully, turned fully away from the spectacle I was making of myself, but they were very clearly fidgeting uncomfortably, while Mel just continued to heave with laughter.


    Feeling like I was blushing from the ends of my ears to the tips of my toes, I yanked the curtain back into place and stumbled back from it, pressing my hands against my eyes and letting out a very growl-like groan of frustration.


    Eventually, I sighed, using my hands to push back any hair that had fallen into my face and spinning on my heels, facing the very apologetic-looking Dani and forcing a smile onto my face.


    ¡°So, about those measurements?¡±


    ¡ö


    ¡°I¡¯m soooooooorry,¡± Elle said, for the fifth, or maybe sixth, time, really dragging it out in hopes that it would be more effective.


    ¡°Mmmgph¡­¡± I grunted, my arms tightly crossed, my back pressed against the wooden back of the bench we were currently ¡°resting¡± on. As soon as I¡¯d finished getting my measurements taken, I¡¯d tugged my shirt back on, thanked Dani profusely, and given her the first third of the payment for my order, which now included five pairs of ¡°proper supportive undergarments¡±. I didn¡¯t have enough on me to pay for the whole thing at once, but it was common in her line of work to take only a portion of the payment at first, giving me plenty of time to pay for the rest once I¡¯d actually earned it. Then, I rejoined Elle and Mel in the front room, the druid I¡¯d seen before having vacated the store entirely. We left the shop and, with Mel wordlessly leading the way, eventually ended up in a circular park area, with a number of benches arranged around a small fountain, shaded by several trees. I dropped into the bench opposite the pair, and since then, several minutes had passed in silence, with nobody saying anything except¡ª


    ¡°I mean it Sammie, I¡¯m really reeeeally sorry!¡± Elle said, for the sixth, or maybe seventh, time. She sounded so very genuinely distraught and apologetic that it was making it hard for me to keep up my grumpy brooding at the opposite end of the bench from the pair. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean anything by it, you¡¯re just so¡­ tiny.¡±


    ¡°Mmmrghph¡­¡± Well, I couldn¡¯t really argue with that, especially the way I was sitting. I was slightly curled up in my seat, my small frame allowing me to hold my knees in front of me and plant my feet on the bench, blocking out the street from my view. My ears were pinned back against my head, and I was aware of my tail thrashing behind me, but felt completely unable or unwilling to stop it.


    ¡°And, you gota admit, you didn¡¯t really give us a lot to work with.¡±


    That was Mel, who, in contrast to her friend, didn¡¯t seem the least bit flustered or upset by the situation. If anything, she seemed to be more unguarded and emotive than her usual cool demeanor, sitting with her arms spread across the back of the bench and a smile on her half covered face.


    I kept my reply to barely a grunt that time, as I also couldn¡¯t dispute that. By their own admission, none of them had ever spoken to a catkin before, and barely interacted with the few they had seen, so all they had to go off of was my physical features and the way I¡¯d interacted with and around them. And, I begrudgingly admitted, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d exactly acted as a bastion of maturity since meeting them. My sincere offer to help Elle with the dishes could easily be mistaken for a childish request made in an attempt to be helpful, as could my stubborn refusal to accept the money donated by the tavern patrons. Hell, just before we set out Elle caught me almost weeping because of a children¡¯s fable.


    With all that, I came to the conclusion I¡¯d already half formed while still brooding in the back room with Dani, getting my measurements. I couldn¡¯t blame them, at all. So, I finally turned my head, still wearing the last of what I hoped was an angry scowl but, with how I knew my new face looked, was probably more of a grumpy pout, and met Elle¡¯s gaze.


    The elf girl¡¯s eyes were huge, and glistened even in the shade as she struggled not to outright start crying at my stoney silence. She was sitting on her knees on the bench, and when she saw me looking, she bit her lip and clasped her hands together in front of her, boring into me with the full force of her sheer, undiluted sorrow and remorse for what was, in all honesty, just a silly misunderstanding at most.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Yeah, there¡¯s no way I can stand up to that.


    With a sigh, I lowered my legs and came out of my scrunched position, sitting up on the bench, taking a moment to stretch out the soreness from the awkward position, before fixing my eyes on a suddenly expectant-looking Elle. If I didn¡¯t know better (which, I realized I didn¡¯t), I¡¯d say her own pointed ears were twitching as she waited for me to speak.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m not actually that mad. Anymore.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Elle squeaked, scooting halfway across the bench on her knees, hands still clasped but eyes somehow going even wider.


    ¡°Yeeeeees,¡± I sighed again, bracing myself. ¡°I forgive you, and I¡¯m sorry for¡ªoomph!¡±


    I didn¡¯t get to finish my own apology for blowing up at them or making a scene before I was almost tackled right off the bench by Elle, who threw her arms around me and crushed me against herself.


    ¡°Thaaaank yoooou!¡± she all but sobbed into my hair, her relief that she hadn¡¯t seriously offended me palpable as she squeezed me. I wanted to further assure her that it really was all fine, but unfortunately, I currently couldn¡¯t breathe. When I tried patting her on the back to signal her to release me, she mistook it as me simply returning the embrace, and started patting my back as well.


    Well¡­ I guess this is how I die¡­ again.


    ¡°Elle, I think she gets it, let her up before she passes out,¡± Mel said, coming to my rescue. The pressure was released and I quickly pulled my head out of Elle¡¯s midsection, gasping for air.


    ¡°Ah, eheheh, s-sorry¡­¡± Elle said while I caught my breath, her cheeks once again adopting that hint of green I¡¯d seen back at the shop. I realized, eventually, that she was blushing, as she tried to explain herself.


    ¡°I just¡­ I really didn¡¯t want you to think we¡¯d been insulting you or talking about you behind your back,¡± Elle said, one of her hands reaching up and starting to fiddle with a bit of her slightly disheveled green hair.


    ¡°Well, we were,¡± Mel said, and Elle¡¯s mouth popped open in shock before Mel laughed and waved her hand. ¡°Talking about you, I mean. Nothing bad, like Elle says, but just trying to figure you out, like everyone else. In case you haven¡¯t noticed, you¡¯re the hottest gossip to hit this town in a while.¡±


    I huffed back at Mel, very briefly wondering if I liked this more open, chatty version of her than the usual, but shook off the petty thought and sighed.


    ¡°Yeeeeah, fuck, you¡¯re right,¡± I grumbled, glancing sidelong at the street before us. Sure enough, even in the relatively secluded little park, it wasn¡¯t hard to catch people staring at us as they passed, no doubt scrutinizing everything they¡¯d just seen. ¡°I¡¯m sorry too, for overreacting back there. That was probably not a good first impression to make on a friend of yours.¡±


    ¡°Who, Dani?¡± Mel asked, smirking. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine, you¡¯re not the first person who¡¯s caused a scene in her shop, though usually it¡¯s about the price of silk, or whether or not someone¡¯s expensive new cloak is ¡®cerulean¡¯ like they asked for, or merely ¡®cobalt,¡¯ not a furious cat girl flashing her customers.¡±


    ¡°Uuuugh, don¡¯t remind me,¡± I groaned, dropping my face into my hands. ¡°I really don¡¯t know what I was thinking, barging out there like that, but I was just so angry all of a sudden. Still kind of am, not at you, but just¡­ myself, the whole situation, blegh.¡±


    Before I could fully start sinking into my brooding, Elle¡¯s voice, timid and quiet, reached one of my ears.


    ¡°Would¡­ would you like one of us to pet you?¡±


    It was such an odd and out of nowhere question that it fully pulled me out of my slump, and I blinked up at Elle, my brow furrowed.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, and Elle, still freshly recovered from thinking she¡¯d gravely offended me by vastly underestimating my age, flinched back slightly.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry! Is it rude for me to ask? It is, isn¡¯t it?¡± Elle hastily backpedaled, scooting even further away across the bench than she had after she finished hugging out her apology. ¡°I don¡¯t exactly know how it works, but I''ve heard that it''s supposed to help calm you down when you¡¯re stressed, right?¡±


    Is it?!


    I kept myself from expressing the question out loud, thinking back on the few times I¡¯d had my head affectionately pet by Felda. It definitely did make me feel calm, and comfortable, and perfectly at ease with the world and everything in it, for however long the contact lasted, in a way that was almost as good as eating a nice big piece of fish.


    Hmm¡­


    Well, Bart did say I didn¡¯t need to try so hard to put up appearances with them.


    ¡°W-wait,¡± I said, holding a hand up but not quite reaching out after Elle, causing her to pause. Behind her, Mel tilted her head, also looking at me, and I was certain I could also still feel the eyes of the other park goers at my back, but I did my best to shut those out. ¡°I think¡­ that would help, yes. If you want to, I mean.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t physically capable of meeting their gazes as I offered to let myself be pet like an actual cat, but I could see them out of the corner of my eye, exchanging glances. Mel shrugged, nudging Elle with her shoulder, but the green-haired elf shook her head. After an exchange that seemed to be carried out entirely in knowing looks and little gestures, Elle stood up from the bench, leaving the space next to Mel empty.


    Confused, but catching on to what they wanted, I slid across the bench to take the spot Elle had just vacated, and once I had, she settled back down on my opposite side, placing me between the pair. I expected Elle to literally jump at the chance I¡¯d offered her, but as she sat beside me, she kept her hands firmly in her lap, just kicking her legs out in front of her and looking up at the shade trees overhead. Following her gaze, I realized I could see small birds flitting about between the branches. A light breeze blew in from the distant shore, gently rustling the leaves overhead and bringing with it the subtle scent of the sea, mixed with the various other smells of the village.


    Finally, while I was distracted, Mel¡¯s hand moved from its spot, resting on the back of the bench behind me, to settle down on the top of my head, right between my ears.


    I started purring immediately, resting my back against the bench and letting the warm, inexplicably relaxing feeling of Mel¡¯s fingers gently scratching against my scalp spread, slowly seeping down from my head to fill my entire body. I closed my eyes, and, for a moment, thought about nothing. Worries about whether or not I¡¯d ever return to my homeworld were gone, confusion and concerns about my unfamiliar body were immaterial, and I wanted for nothing at all, except for Mel to keep scratching that particular spot next to my left ear, yes, that one, right there¡­


    Slowly, the motion of Mel¡¯s fingers ceased, but before I could think to complain, she removed her hand, and it was replaced by another. Elle¡¯s, I realized, belatedly. Her fingers were more slender, but she was more enthusiastic, roaming around my scalp in search of the perfect spot, which I was all too happy to guide her to by simply tilting my head this way and that until she found it, my purring revving up to unprecedented levels as she dug in.


    At some point, while I was deep in the throes of my relaxation, Elle and Mel began speaking quietly to each other.


    ¡°See, I told you you didn¡¯t need to worry so much.¡±


    That was Mel. I clearly recognized her voice, but it had taken on an odd quality. I couldn¡¯t find the words to describe how I knew that it was different, I simply knew that it was, and it reminded me of when the same thing had happened the day before while I was out with Bart. Claire had talked Bart into underpaying for my sandals and paying her the rest later when I wasn¡¯t around, and had done so right in front of my face, but had acted like there was no way I could have heard her.


    ¡°I knoooow, I just didn¡¯t want to make her uncomfortable by asking too early.¡±


    Elle¡¯s answer came with the very same strange distortion, whispered from somewhere just above my head.


    ¡°Well, she looks plenty comfortable now,¡± Mel said, and I could hear the smile in her voice, and felt her move beside me. One of her fingers reappeared, briefly scratching at the back of my head just above my neck before stopping again. ¡°Still, can you believe it? That she¡¯s really only a year younger than me?¡±


    Ah, right, that had come up. During the short period after I¡¯d returned to the back room with Dani, I asked her how old Elle and Mel were. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what I hoped to gain from finding out, but I very nearly ran right back out to yell at them a second time when I learned that Mel was only twenty, while Elle was twenty one.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Elle said, and I flicked one of my ears at her in annoyance, not that she noticed. ¡°If she¡¯s lying, it¡¯s such a high number to lie about, I can¡¯t see why she¡¯d try. But if she¡¯s not¡­¡±


    ¡°If she¡¯s not, that means she¡¯s not just ¡®some cute kid that Felda took in,¡¯ she¡¯s someone our own age, someone you can actually become friends with.¡± Mel provided the answer Elle seemed to have trouble voicing. ¡°Honestly, I thought you¡¯d be thrilled.¡±


    ¡°I am, I am, it¡¯s just¡­ well¡­ doesn¡¯t her being our age make this a little¡­¡± Elle cleared her throat, and I could feel her moving, doing something beside me, but I couldn¡¯t tell what. When she spoke again, her voice was even quieter. ¡°I mean, for starters, I would¡¯ve thought you¡¯d be jealous, seeing me treat anyone but you like this.¡±


    Ah, she¡¯d been motioning at me, practically falling into her lap while she scratched and pet my head like I was an actual housecat. That made sense, we were probably making quite a scene on that park bench, but what else had she just said? She thought Mel would be jealous? Why would Mel be jealous of this, unless¡ª


    Oh.


    Opposite me, Mel was moving in her seat. There was a stifled hissing, snorting noise, that I identified as Mel straining to contain a laugh, probably to avoid disturbing me. Eventually, she got herself under control again, and scooted a little out of her corner of the bench, closing the distance between her and Elle and narrowing the space I had to fit between them.


    ¡°Oh, shut up, you evil witch,¡± Mel hissed through her teeth at Elle, her tone light, almost playful even. ¡°Anyway, I don¡¯t think so. You said it¡¯s different for them, the way they express their emotions? They¡¯re a lot more physical, especially with people they trust, so this is basically just a hug, right?¡±


    Even I thought that was maybe pushing it a little, but I wasn¡¯t about to tell Mel that. Not just because I was now completely certain this was a conversation I both wasn¡¯t supposed to be hearing, and also one they thought I was totally incapable of hearing, but because I had no clue how to broach that subject.


    And I had a feeling I was about to have other things to worry about.


    ¡°I know, I know, but I¡¯m still worried about making her uncomfortable¡­¡± Elle¡¯s voice, full of worry, trailed off. Her hand had stilled over time, and was no longer scratching vigorously, but was still planted firmly on top of my head, lightly and gently petting through my hair with the tips of her fingers.


    ¡°Tsh¡­ you¡¯re so cute when you¡¯re overthinking¡­¡± Mel¡¯s voice, much lower and much nearer than it had been before, dripped with something I dared not identify, and made me certain that I absolutely needed to get up off of that bench as soon as possible. Unfortunately, my bones still felt like they¡¯d been turned to jelly, so the best I could do was stir between the suddenly much-closer pair of elves and open my mouth to protest.


    ¡°Mmmrow¡­¡±


    Okay that was¡­ definitely much more of some kind of grumbly meow than it was any actual words, but it got the job done, and I felt Mel jerk back slightly, giving me a bit of breathing room back. When she spoke again, her voice was now the one tinged with worry.


    ¡°Uh¡­ are you sure she can¡¯t speak Elven?¡±


    Speak what?


    ¡°I mean, she said she¡¯d never met an elf before you or me, why would she?¡± Elle answered in a rush, then gently cleared her throat, and when she spoke down at me, the bizarre, inexplicable anomaly was gone and her voice was back to what I considered to be normal. ¡°Uh, Sammie?¡±


    I opened my eyes, then winced and shut them again, slightly unused to the glaring brightness of the sunny summer day after lounging so long with my eyes closed. Carefully, I opened them again, holding a hand up to block the light as I glanced from Elle to Mel, and back again.


    ¡°Mmm¡­ what?¡± I croaked, my throat feeling a bit sore and dry. Idly, I wondered if that was because of how hard I¡¯d been purring the whole time, or just because it was hot out and I was getting thirsty.


    ¡°Are you¡­ feeling better?¡± Elle asked, only barely skipping a beat as she helped me sit up straight.


    Now, that was an interesting question. I tried to actually take stock of how I was feeling. The prolonged session of head scratching and gentle petting had definitely helped drive out the last vestiges of negative emotions I¡¯d been harboring, and I felt absolutely no lingering resentment towards the pair for the misunderstanding. On the contrary, I was just as glad that we happened to be peers; I¡¯d had my own private worries that since the two of them were elves they might be, like, hundreds of years old, with little need or want to become friends with someone who almost literally fell into their lives.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, putting on a small smile and hoping I sounded genuine. ¡°I feel much better.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t technically a lie, I was feeling better than I had been before our little break, and the worries I¡¯d discarded stayed gone even after we got up from the bench and started walking again.


    On the other hand, I now had two new things to worry about instead. If I interpreted what I¡¯d been hearing right, Elle and Mel appeared to be in some sort of relationship, and I had no idea how huge of a secret that might be. I had no reason to believe the people of this village, or even the people of this nation, would have anything against two girls kissing on a park bench, especially after what I¡¯d read in that children¡¯s fable book, but you could never be too careful. I certainly wasn¡¯t about to go asking them, or blabbing about it, until I had more information.


    Then, there was the other problem. The fact that I¡¯d, once again, heard quite a lot of stuff I wasn¡¯t supposed to, and this time it was even through what was supposed to be a language barrier. Elle and Mel had apparently been speaking in ¡°Elven¡± during the entire conversation, which expressed itself to me in their voices sounding subtly off, but still otherwise entirely comprehensible. Putting aside the fact that, try as I might, I seemed to have a natural knack for eavesdropping; how in the hell was I able to do that, and what would happen if anyone else found out?


    Ah well, I couldn¡¯t do anything about either problem at the moment, so I just hopped off the bench and stretched the stiffness out of my muscles, while Elle and Mel did the same, and then we began to walk again. Now that I wasn''t keeping my head down due to a mix of anger and embarrassment, I was able to actually appreciate the beauty of the area as I followed the pair out of it.


    The park consisted of two circular rings of bare earth that had been left unpaved, one inner and one outer, with four paths that cut through them at even intervals like cardinal directions on a compass, with the small fountain in the center. With no small amount of delight, I noticed that the benches that were placed around the edges of the rings, including the one we¡¯d been sitting on, were not simply crafted furniture assembled from cut wood, but actually seemed to have been grown straight out of the ground itself and sculpted into the shape of a bench. The trees that grew from the earth behind them gave each one just the right amount of shade, and I could now see not just the little birds flitting between their branches, but also the occasional squirrel darting up or down the trunks of the trees. There was even a small cluster of rabbits gathered in a loose pile around the base of one tree, that didn¡¯t so much as twitch an ear as we passed.


    Just as we were about to exit the park, we encountered a row of bushes practically overflowing with eye-catching pink and blue flowers that I couldn''t help but pause to take a quick whiff of. As I did, one of the flowers moved, and what I realized was a butterfly of the same color scheme flitted into the air.


    I stood, watching it flutter away for several seconds, before a sentiment practically forced its way out of my mouth.


    ¡°Sometimes I still can''t believe this place is real,¡± I said, causing Elle and Mel to glance back at me, shared expressions of confusion on their faces. I hunched my shoulders up a little, embarrassed, as I hadn''t really meant to say that out loud, but after how relaxed I¡¯d been on the bench I forgot to keep my guard up and let the sentiment slip out.


    Oh well, I''d already said it, might as well finish the thought.


    ¡°Not just this park, I mean,¡± I said, closing the distance between us and starting to walk again. ¡°This village too, and the area around it. The fields, the forest, the mountains, the sea, they''re all so¡­ nice.¡±


    Elle and Mel were walking beside me, and Elle was still giving me a look as she spoke.


    ¡°Is this your first time seeing what it''s like down here?¡± she asked, and almost immediately followed it up with a squeak, her eyes going wide and her hands covering her mouth.


    ¡°I''m sorry, I forgot, I didn''t¡ª¡± The apologies came spilling from her mouth like a waterfall, and I quickly put my hands up to stem the tide.


    ¡°It''s alright, it''s fine!¡± I assured her, with just as much urgency, then sighed. I''d been getting a little ahead of myself, and that was a convenient reminder that my true origins and reason for being in this world were a huge secret, one that would likely stand in the way of making any real friends until I figured out how to broach the subject. Not that I even knew the reason I was here in the first place.


    ¡°Damnit¡­¡± I cursed under my breath, taking a deep breath to clear my mind. I didn''t want to leave Elle and Mel hanging on that sour note, so I turned back to them, speaking plainly.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, trying to not let my face shift as I answered. ¡°It is my first time, seeing all this.¡±


    Maybe wording it that way was slightly misleading, but it was the truth. I just left out the fact that I was seeing everything in this world for the first time, barring all the stuff that was suspiciously similar to what I was used to on Earth.


    Leading the way again, Elle cautiously accepted my implied offer to continue the line of conversation.


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s easy to take all that stuff for granted when you see it every day, but you¡¯re right, there¡¯s a lot of beauty to be found down here,¡± Elle said, glancing at the park we¡¯d left behind, then turning and gazing into the distance, where a bit of the mountains were visible above the rooftops of the village. She smiled, and looked back down at me. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re getting to see it now.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I agreed, tilting my head back and staring into the picturesque blue sky above us, a matching smile spreading across my face as it was warmed by the sun. ¡°I am too.¡±


    We walked in silence for another few moments, before Mel chimed in from Elle¡¯s other side.


    ¡°So¡­ is your family name really ¡®Fisher?¡¯¡± Mel asked, causing Elle to scoff and lightly swat her shoulder. ¡°What? You were thinking it too, I saw it!¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh, as I distinctly recalled Elle having some sort of reaction when I introduced myself to Dani, but I hadn¡¯t thought anything of it at the time.


    ¡°Yes, that really is my name,¡± I said, once I¡¯d composed myself enough to stop snickering.


    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous,¡± Mel said, shaking her head with a smirk. Only Elle didn¡¯t seem to find the humor in it, and her face remained serious as she looked down at me with concern.


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s safe to go around telling everyone that?¡± Elle asked, and the gravity of her tone was enough to give me pause. I remembered Bart mentioning something similar earlier; that my name might lead people to assume things about me or my past, but I couldn¡¯t see how that might be dangerous.


    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah? Why wouldn¡¯t it be?¡± I asked, and Elle only appeared to grow more nervous, biting her lip and furrowing her brows.


    ¡°Because, won¡¯t that make it easy for the¡­ for anyone looking for you to find you?¡± Elle lowered her voice to an almost conspiratorial whisper as she spoke, and I was once again taken aback by her seriousness. I really wished I could just come out and ask Elle and Mel, or Felda and Bart, what exactly they thought my background was, just because it sounded a lot more interesting than the truth. I¡¯d been forming my own idea based on the bits and pieces I¡¯d been able to pick up so far, and Elle¡¯s question finally helped me tie it together into a coherent image. They thought I was a member, or maybe a pet, of some big important family named Fisher, living in whatever vague region they were always referring to as ¡®¡¯up there,¡¯¡¯ who had escaped or run away or something like that, and was now hiding out from some unknown pursuers.


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh again, which did not seem to ease Elle¡¯s concerns at all. Shaking my head, I composed myself and reached up to put a hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± I said, smiling in an attempt to put both of them at ease. ¡°Trust me. Nobody¡¯s looking for me.¡±


    ¡°O-oh¡­¡± Elle said, not at all as appeased by my words as I thought she¡¯d be. ¡°I see, well, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s good, excuse me a moment.¡±


    With that, she dropped back several paces, leaving me and Mel to walk ahead while she lagged behind, her face clouding over with an unreadable mix of emotions. I looked up at Mel, who glanced from Elle down to me.


    ¡°Did I say something wrong?¡± I asked, and Mel¡¯s eyebrow arched up, before she quickly shook her head, stepping sideways to close the gap that Elle had left and placing a hand on top of my head.


    ¡°No, no, you¡¯re fine,¡± Mel said, shaking her head and giving me a few quick pats. ¡°I think she just took that the wrong way, it¡¯s not your fault. I¡¯ll talk to her when we get to the tailor¡¯s, it¡¯s just up ahead.¡±


    Mel nodded forward, and I peered across the street to the building she was indicating: a small shop just before the corner, with a sign hung above its door bearing the image of a pair of sewing needles crossed in front of a spool.


    We entered the small shop together, followed by Elle a few moments after. It was similar, in some ways, to Dani¡¯s shop, except there was much less variety in both the colors and styles of the clothes on display. All that were available were very simple items: short and long sleeved shirts and tunics, aprons, simple dresses without much decoration, and pants so plain as to almost be uniform, and everything seemed to come only in shades of white, beige, or brown.


    Behind the short counter was a plain looking man with light-brown hair and a well-trimmed beard, as well as a much older woman sat upon a wooden chair tucked into one corner, both of whom had looked up at our entrance, and kept on looking as we approached.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned¡­¡± the man said, before seeming to remember where he was and clearing his throat, smiling at us. ¡°Ah, pardon me, welcome, come in, anythin¡¯ I can do for you folk?¡±


    Mel looked down at me, and I nodded, motioning for her to step away and check in on Elle, the two of them edging to one corner of the shop and beginning a hushed conversation while I turned back to the man behind the counter.


    ¡°Yeah, uh, I just need a few sets of clothes that¡¯ll fit me,¡± I said, and the man leaned a little further over the counter, giving me a more thorough look up and down.


    ¡°Mmh, aye, I can see that. C¡¯mere, let¡¯s have a look at¡¯cha,¡± the man said as he circled the counter, removing the measuring tape that had been draped over his shoulders and taking only a few cursory measurements before nodding. ¡°Aye, we have a few sets that¡¯ll fit ye, but you¡¯re cuttin¡¯ it close, small as ya are.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know how to respond to that, so I simply didn¡¯t, following the man as he moved to one wall, pulling a crate down from a shelf and rifling through a stack of folded garments. He produced a plain off-white tunic with short sleeves and held it out in front of me. It would be a bit on the long side, but it was clearly a better fit than the oversized shirt I was currently wearing. Nodding, he laid the first over his arm and then pulled down another crate, once again rummaging inside until he pulled out a small pair of plain beige pants. These, as opposed to the shirt, looked like they¡¯d be a bit of a tight squeeze, but that would no doubt be preferable to the extremely loose fit of the borrowed pants I was already wearing.


    ¡°Seems yer in luck, lass,¡± the man said, after poking through both crates. ¡°I¡¯ve got a half dozen of each left over from a batch deal that fell through, willin¡¯ to let ¡®em go for six shells a piece, or I¡¯ll cut you a deal if you buy the whole lot, only ten clams.¡±


    I hummed, going over the price in my head, and immediately realized he¡¯d just tried to pull the most obvious scam on me, since buying all twelve of them at six shells each would only come out to seven clams and two shells. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, not wanting to let slip that I¡¯d caught on so quickly. When Felda and Bart had been surprised by my ability to do simple math I didn¡¯t think much of it, but if this guy thought he could rob me just because¡­ because I was a catkin? Well, whatever the reason, he had another thing coming. I put on as wide a smile as I could and tilted my head to the side, flicking one of my ears.


    ¡°Uuuhm, I duno, that¡¯s pretty high¡­¡± I hummed, making a show of tapping a finger against my chin and looking up at the ceiling and pouting. ¡°How about¡­ eight clams?¡±


    There, that was closer to the actual cost at six shells each, plus eight extra to round it up, surely that was enough to¡ª


    ¡°No chance, lass,¡± the man said, shaking his head, and I felt my eyes narrowing. He held up the shirt he had draped over his arm, pinching it between his fingers. ¡°This here is high quality cotton, soft as clouds, from the backs of Torgard¡¯s finest sheep. In fact, I¡¯d be mad to let ¡®em go for anything¡¯ less than twelve clams.¡±


    I tried to keep my face impassive, but I felt my tail beginning to flick behind me as my annoyance mounted. It was one thing to try and fool me by being tricky with the numbers, but this guy must have taken me for an idiot if he thought I didn¡¯t know where cotton came from.


    I hadn¡¯t really wanted to get into a haggling match, especially over something so simple as some plain clothes, but now I was feeling stubborn, and didn¡¯t want to let this guy feel like he¡¯d gotten one over on me.


    So, I crossed my arms, straightened my back, and bared my teeth a little as I spoke.


    ¡°Five clams,¡± I stated flatly, my tail all but thrashing behind me. Then, I recalled something that had come up when I was discussing payment for my tailored clothes with Dani, and I held up a finger. ¡°Plus an extra if you can have them delivered.¡±


    That would bring the total up to what he¡¯d get if he¡¯d taken five clams each instead of six, without any of the extra I¡¯d been willing to part with before. Probably a little less than they were worth, but he¡¯d really gotten on my nerves.


    The man¡¯s face was starting to go a little red, and he opened his mouth far too quickly to have actually thought my counter offer over, but before he could speak the old woman in the corner shouted over him, her voice cutting the air like a whipcrack.


    ¡°Oh, let the lass have ¡®em, Tim! It¡¯ll be years before any of the village tots are big enough to need ¡®em and you¡¯ve been tryin¡¯ to get rid of those old things for months.¡± The old woman admonished the man, Tim, without even getting up from her chair. When I turned to look at her, the fierce glare she was leveling at the man I assumed to be her son melted into a sweet smile as she met my eyes, inclining her head.


    ¡°Hush, ma!¡± the man, Tim, shot back petulantly, springing to his feet and motioning an arm at me. ¡°She¡¯s one¡¯a them catfolk, a noble¡¯s brat! She can afford it!¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± I protested at the notion that I was either a noble or a brat.


    ¡°You don¡¯t pay that fool boy ¡®a mine any mind, little miss,¡± the woman said, and I turned back to face her. ¡°I heard about you from ol¡¯ Alfy, at the apothecary, and we¡¯d be happy to help out a lass down on her luck, wouldn¡¯t we, Tim?¡±


    ¡°Uuuh¡­ oh!¡± I realized she meant Alfred, the old man who Bart had bought some medicine from the day before, who had given me a few pieces of butterscotch candy before I left. I still had the other one in my pockets, come to think of it. I smiled back at the old woman and nodded. ¡°Thank you, uh, tell him I said ¡®hi¡¯ next time you see him.¡±


    Feeling much more reassured about undershooting the price of the clothes after he¡¯d tried to scam me twice, I faced forward again, finding Tim looking much more subdued than he had been moments before when he was arguing with his mother. With a sigh, he nodded and knelt down, beginning to collect the garments from the crates.


    ¡°Aye, aye, six clams it is then, and I¡¯ll have one of me boys bring ¡®em ¡®round to your place,¡± he said, standing up and carrying the small bundle to the counter. ¡°Where might that be, then?¡±


    ¡°Uh, do you know where the Crooked Hook is?¡± I asked, reaching into my pocket for my pouch of coins.


    ¡°Mmh, aye, the tavern on the docks owned by that troll woman,¡± Tim said, and I paused in the middle of counting out the silver coins to blink up at him.


    ¡°Miss Felda is not a troll,¡± a voice behind me snapped, and I almost jumped, before Mel put a hand on my shoulder. Elle also reappeared, standing at my other side, looking much less distressed, but equally as angry at Tim as Mel sounded.


    Tim, already having gotten an earful from his mother, just nodded and mumbled an apology, accepting the small handful of coins from me.


    Once we were back out on the streets, Elle and Mel¡¯s serious looks gave way to little snorts and giggles, then the pair broke into full on laughter, taking a few steps away from the shop, with me in tow.


    ¡°By the bough, that man can not keep his foot out of his mouth for ten seconds,¡± Mel said, shaking her head. Then, focusing on me, she grinned and added, ¡°Nice work back there, by the way. I was worried we¡¯d have to step in for a second, but you really showed him.¡±


    Elle snorted, shaking her head and putting her hands on her hips. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe he¡¯d try to take advantage of you like that. Did he think he could get away with it just because you¡¯re new in town?¡±


    I chuckled along with them, shrugging.


    ¡°Well, actually, it was probably because I¡¯m, y¡¯know¡­¡± I trailed off, pointing up to my large pointed cat ears, flicking one of them for good measure.


    ¡°That little¡­¡± Elle¡¯s eyes opened wider and she glanced back up the street, before huffing and shaking her head. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad we won¡¯t have to go back there for a while. I hope this time he learns his lesson.¡±


    After a few more moments of slow strolling while we put distance between us and the tailor¡¯s shop, I looked up to Elle, who was now walking to my left, with Mel at my right.


    ¡°Are you, uh, alright, Elle?¡± I asked, and she immediately beamed, nodding.


    ¡°Oh, yes, I¡¯m as ripe as a peach!¡± she said, putting an arm out to give me a quick sideways hug. ¡°Sorry for worrying you, sometimes I get trapped in my own head and I need Mel to pull me out.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, nodding while doing my best to return the gesture despite the height difference. ¡°I can definitely understand that.¡±


    I felt my ears start to sag a little as I remembered the fact that I didn¡¯t have Morgan here to pull me out of any funk I should happen to fall into, nor did she have me. It was a sobering reminder, but, obviously cluing in to the way my ears were drooping, Elle once again laid a hand on my head and ruffled up my hair a bit. I smiled, and while it wasn¡¯t enough to push the pain away entirely, it did help.


    ¡°So, where¡¯re we going next?¡± I asked, after we¡¯d walked in silence for an entire minute.


    ¡°That¡¯s kind of up to you,¡± Mel said, glancing up at the sky. ¡°We¡¯ve still got a bit of time, what else did you want to buy today?¡±


    I hummed, also tilting my head back while I thought. I hadn¡¯t put together anything like a shopping list, but I knew the few key items I wanted to grab while I still had the extra funds to pay for them, and began to list them off.


    ¡°Well, I want some kind of bag, or satchel, something to carry my stuff in,¡± I said, holding up a finger then using it to tap my chin. ¡°Then, I need a canteen, especially if I¡¯m going to be going out fishing with Bart everyday. Beyond those two, well, I don¡¯t really need them, but I¡¯d like to pick up some gloves if I can, and is there any place in the village where I can get a blank notebook and something to write with?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, that shouldn¡¯t be too hard,¡± Mel said after thinking for a moment. ¡°We can visit one of the leatherworker¡¯s shops for the satchel and the gloves, the general store has plenty of canteens, not sure about the notebook though.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re right by the post office, there¡¯s a stationer¡¯s store attached to it, they¡¯ll have one,¡± Elle added, and at her urging, we picked up our pace again and moved further up the road. I really hadn¡¯t noticed it before when we first began our shopping trip, but now it was hard to miss the fact that the area of the village that we were entering was visibly more well-kept than the homes and buildings closer to the shoreline. While all of the buildings near the docks were made almost exclusively of wood, the shops we¡¯d been passing by had begun to incorporate more brick and stone into their construction, as well as being larger and more decorated.


    By the time we arrived at the post office, almost every building we passed featured a brightly painted facade, and often a small flower garden in front of them, overflowing with flowers and even the occasional tree. Mirroring the buildings, the people I saw out on the streets were fewer in number and more finely dressed, to the point that I began to feel a little self-conscious about the shabby clothes I was wearing.


    However, all I had to do was remind myself that this was likely the part of town that Bentley and his toadies hung around, and I didn¡¯t give a shit about what they thought, so I had even less to worry about from the well-dressed villagers who were unabashedly staring in our direction. I still let out a little sigh of relief as we stepped into the post office, though.


    Taking a look around the interior, I was at first surprised by how small the front lobby of the post office was, since it appeared to be quite a large building from the outside, but I realized all that extra space was probably used for more storage, with the front room only as spacious as it needed to be for the short time customers would be visiting to either drop off or pick up mail.


    I was still kind of in awe that this village, or this world in general, had something like a post office, especially since none of the buildings seemed to have addresses, but I figured that was because most mail was expected to be picked up at the office, with direct delivery to a specific person being reserved only for the important people, or for those willing to pay extra for it.


    After taking a moment just to adjust to the much less bright interior of the post office, Elle gave a short wave to the young man behind the counter, then led us through an open doorway adjacent to the front desk, and into a tiny stationery shop, the shelves and counters mostly taken up by bottles of ink, pens of various shapes and styles, and lots and lots of paper. I quickly found the things I was looking for: a blank notebook and, surprisingly, a pencil, or the closest thing I could find to one. It was a hollow wooden container meant to hold a stick of some thin, charcoal-like material, more like an oversized mechanical pencil, but still perfectly suitable for my needs.


    I approached the desk to pay for my items and noticed, with a bit of a start, that the clerk dozing on her stool was another birdkin, with large snowy white wings folded up behind her. She let out a startled hoot when I woke her up, but quickly forgave me once she recognized me, as apparently Peter had already been back here and spoke at length about his meeting with me before heading back out to make more deliveries.


    Notebook and pencils in hand (or, actually, in Mel¡¯s satchel, because I didn¡¯t want to risk dropping them or losing them), we set out again, this time stopping at the aforementioned leatherworker¡¯s shop. The man inside, Leroy, also recognized me, and wasn¡¯t shy about exclaiming so, and very loudly. He was a friend and business partner of Claire, the woman who I¡¯d bought my sandals from, with the same odd accent as her as well, and he was all too glad to offer me a spacious shoulder bag made of sturdy black leather, and a matching pair of gloves at a price I was pretty sure was much lower than it should have been. I still insistent on paying a little extra to have the gloves ¡°tailored¡± for me, which in this case meant having the tips of the fingers quickly removed and re-sewn, so that I¡¯d actually be able to wear them with my claws, which for some reason seemed to amuse Elle and Mel to no end.


    Even though we were making good time, by the time we arrived at the general store, I was definitely feeling my energy begin to flag again.


    ¡°Ugh, am I going to have to take another nap when we get back?¡± I grumbled to myself.


    ¡°What?¡± Elle asked, looking back.


    ¡°N-nothing,¡± I said, shaking my head and slipping into the general store ahead of her. Damn, I really was talking to myself too much lately.


    Inside the general store, the shelves and counters were stocked with the widest selection of items I¡¯d seen yet, which I supposed was what made it a ¡°general¡± store. There were large sacks of fragrant beans, both coffee and otherwise, as well as rice and other grains. I found things like candles, lengths of rope and chain, a selection of glass bottles and stoppers as well as empty metal tins, various tools and farming implements, even a few empty barrels. All in all, a predictable spread of goods, with the only surprising thing being that the store appeared to be owned, or at least operated, by one of the druids, instead of another one of the ordinary villagers.


    I was a little wary of being in such close proximity to one of the robed and masked individuals so soon after the scene I¡¯d made in Dani¡¯s shop, but there was no way that was the same druid, was there?


    Either way, I wandered the rows of shelves until I found what I was looking for, picking up the large circular canteen and preparing to bring it to the counter, but something caught my eye and made me pause mid turn. Sitting on the opposite shelf was a collection of hair brushes, and I found myself picking one up and turning it over in my hands without even realizing it.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Mel asked, suddenly leaning over my shoulder and making me jump.


    ¡°Nothing!¡± I said, a little too quickly and much too nervously, considering it was just a brush.


    ¡°You sure?¡± Mel asked dryly, a smug smile spreading across her half-covered face. ¡°Because you¡¯ve been staring at that brush for like five minutes.¡±


    ¡°R-really?¡± I sputtered, reaching up and replacing it on the shelf. ¡°It¡¯s nothing, forget it, I don¡¯t need it¡ª¡±


    ¡°But you want it, right?¡± Mel asked again, stopping me when I tried to brush past her.


    My eyes flicked back to the brush, sitting askew on the shelf where I¡¯d left it, and I bit my lip. I wanted to answer, but my mouth suddenly felt like it was full of sand, so I just nodded.


    ¡°Well, what¡¯s stopping you?¡±


    I opened my mouth to answer but my throat was too tight to force any words out of. Lowering my eyes, I swallowed and tried again.


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted, which wasn¡¯t entirely accurate. It was more like I didn¡¯t want to know, didn¡¯t want to fully dredge the memory up out of the depths there and then in the middle of the general store.


    Mel appeared to mull over my non-answer for a few seconds before replying, lowering her voice and speaking softly.


    ¡°Do you want me to buy it for you?¡± Mel asked, and I felt two different responses struggling to be the first out of my mouth.


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk to me like that,¡± I spat sourly, the more volatile side winning out due to her condescending tone. ¡°You know I¡¯m not a child anymore, I¡¯m a year younger than you.¡±


    ¡°And Elle¡¯s a year older than me, but she still asks me to cover her ears when it thunders,¡± Mel said, not reacting at all to my sudden lashing out, just standing up straight and shrugging her shoulders. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m being pushy, I¡¯ll drop it if you want¡ª¡±


    ¡°W-wait¡­¡± I reached up and caught the edge of Mel¡¯s sleeve as she started to turn, pulling her back. My throat was still tight and my voice was little more than a squeak, but I managed to whisper, ¡°Yes¡­ please¡­¡±


    Nodding, Mel offered no response, but scooped up the brush I¡¯d been looking at and stepped away, putting distance between us and approaching the counter ahead of me, while I stayed behind to compose myself. I wondered, briefly, where Elle had disappeared to, only to catch a glimpse of green hair just before it disappeared around the edge of one of the shelves. I let out a surprised bark of laughter and shook my head.


    ¡°She really wants to be my friend,¡± I muttered, looking at the canteen I still had clutched in my hands. I glanced toward the counter, where Mel had just finished purchasing the brush for me because I was too much of a¡ªbecause I couldn¡¯t buy it myself.


    ¡°Both of them,¡± I said, smiling privately. Though Mel wasn¡¯t as¡­ enthusiastic to show it as Elle was, she¡¯d been no less accommodating of me for the afternoon. Maybe it was a mistake, getting my and probably their hopes up when there was a possibility I could be expelled from the village in a little over a month, but, if I was being honest, I really wanted to be their friend too.


    ¡°Guess I¡¯ll just have to make sure I win that contest,¡± I said, taking a deep breath. I deflated slightly when I realized I¡¯d been having that whole internal monologue very externally, and brought a hand to my forehead. ¡°Okay I have to stop doing that¡­¡±


    ¡­damnit.


    I finally approached the counter, placing the canteen on top of it and meeting the impassive lenses of the druid¡¯s mask.


    ¡°Just this,¡± I said, completely dismissing from my mind the possibility that this was the same druid from before.


    ¡°T-that¡¯ll be¡­ five shells¡­¡± the druid said, their masked face turning away slightly, their muffled voice very soft.


    Oh¡­ oh no¡­


    I was counting out the coins as fast as I possibly could, when Elle finally re-emerged from the shelves, appearing behind me, letting out a gasp and leaning forward over my shoulder.


    ¡°Oh, hi again, David!¡± she exclaimed excitedly, and I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins. I met the druid¡¯s eyes, or rather, his lenses, and felt an unseen, unspoken bond of suffering form between us for just a moment before he broke eye contact again, and I hastily slammed the coins down onto the counter.


    Somewhere off to the side, Mel let out a groan and slapped a hand against her forehead.


    ¡ö


    ¡°Oh, welcome back!¡± Felda greeted us with a smile upon returning to the tavern. ¡°How was your day out?¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± I said as me, Elle, and Mel shuffled in through the door. After exiting the general store, we¡¯d all agreed we¡¯d had enough for the day, and it was getting close to the time that Elle and Mel would have to head home and prepare for their shifts for that night, but they still insisted on accompanying me back.


    ¡°Good, good, come have some lunch and tell me about it,¡± Felda said, ushering us over to the bar where she already had a few plates waiting.


    Lunch consisted of, to my immense surprise and delight, sandwiches.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Elle asked as I failed to stifle the giggling that had started the moment I climbed into the stool and saw what awaited me on my plate.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s nothing!¡± I said through my fingers, clapping them over my mouth until I could stop snickering. I didn¡¯t even know why I found the sight of the simple assembly of bread, meat, cheese, and lettuce so amusing, other than it was one of the last things I expected to see, and at the same time completely unsurprising. For as many ways as this world was alien to my own, there were just as many uncanny similarities, and it was finally starting to sink in.


    So, when I lifted one of the triangularly sliced halves of the sandwich and bit into it, finding that it contained both mayonnaise and mustard, I wasn¡¯t even mildly shocked. I just let out a blissful groan and closed my eyes, settling in to enjoy my lunch.


    Afterwards, Elle was only a few moments into her recounting of our shopping trip before I found my mouth opening wide in a surprisingly drawn-out yawn.


    ¡°Wow,¡± Mel said, leaning forward in the stool beside Elle, smirking at me.


    ¡°Aww¡­¡± Elle cooed, biting down on her lip, apparently fighting a losing battle against the urge to fawn over me. She reached over from her stool and I was too slow trying to swat her hand away before her fingers once again settled against my scalp, scratching gently.


    Felda just looked on in amusement, a comfortable smile on her face.


    ¡°S-sorry,¡± I stammered out after Elle had had her fill of scritching behind my ears. ¡°I¡¯m fine, keep going, I¡¯m just gona¡­ rest my head for a little bit.¡±


    I could tell none of them believed me, especially when another yawn cut me off in the middle of assuring them, but Elle continued regardless. With a huff, I crossed my arms and laid them on the bar in front of me, leaning forward and resting my head on them, reminiscent of how I would sit the exact same way in class on days when I¡¯d not gotten enough sleep the night before. And, similarly to how I¡¯d tell myself then that I wouldn¡¯t actually fall asleep, that I was only resting my head, I soon found myself nodding off anyway, listening to Elle and Mel and Felda¡¯s voices as they chatted on amicably, until I fell into a deep, deep sleep.


    I was only able to recognize that I had fallen asleep in hindsight, when I was woken from it by Felda¡¯s soft voice and gentle prodding.


    ¡°Come now, Sam, let''s get you to bed¡­¡± Felda spoke quietly, and I blinked in confusion, glancing around to where Elle and Mel had been moments before.


    ¡°Wha¡­ where¡­¡± I mumbled sleepily, slipping out of the stool at Felda''s light urging, landing on boneless legs that almost refused to hold me up.


    ¡°They went home, but they''ll be back soon, you''ll see them when you wake up,¡± Felda assured me, steering me around the bar to the small set of stairs that led to the single bedroom on the first floor.


    I had to lean on her for support as we crossed the short hallway towards her bedroom door, as I was feeling extremely lethargic. That wasn''t helped by one of Felda''s hands finding its way to the top of my head, and it was only my tight grip on her waist that kept me from turning into a puddle on the floor.


    With my head tilted sideways and resting against Felda¡¯s hip, my eyes once again landed on the large bookshelf, so subtly off center in the hallway, and I sleepily mumbled my disagreement with its placement.


    ¡°That shelf is¡­ so weird,¡± I complained, sniffing and waving a dismissive hand in its direction. ¡°You should scoot it over a few feet.¡±


    For some reason, my comment made Felda stop in her tracks, and caused her whole body to stiffen, which I only noticed because of how tightly I was holding onto it. When I raised one sleepy, bleary eye up to look at her, she just smiled down at me and started walking again.


    ¡°Come, let''s get you to bed,¡± Felda said, and I just hummed in agreement, closing my eyes.


    Whether or not I actually made it to the bed, I couldn''t say, but the bed was certainly where I found myself when my eyes fluttered open an unknown amount of time later.


    ¡°What the¡­¡± I mumbled, glancing around Felda¡¯s room, and taking note of the fading sunlight out the window.


    Hadn¡¯t I just been at the bar? No, wait, I had a fuzzy recollection of Felda escorting me to her bedroom. Sitting up, I found that I¡¯d been laid on top of the covers, but with a second lighter blanket draped over me, which slipped off as I moved. Waiting for me at the foot of the bed, which for me was several feet away because of just how long the bed itself was, were two neatly folded articles of clothing, one shirt and one pair of pants, which I recognized as one of the sets I¡¯d bought from the surly tailor that afternoon.


    Scooting forward until I could sit at the edge of the bed, I quickly stripped off the ill-fitting two-day old clothes, glad to be rid of them, and tugged on the light cotton shirt before hopping to my feet to draw the pants up my legs. I paused, and smiled, when I noticed that they¡¯d already had the simple but effective modification made to them to accommodate my tail, with fresh stitching around the new hole to keep it from ripping open further than intended.


    As I¡¯d expected, these pants were a far cry from the pair Felda had borrowed from some acquaintance of hers. They were snug, but not to the point of being uncomfortably tight, and stopped just above my ankles, like what would be called capri pants back on Earth. Stepping away from the bed, I paced a few experimental laps around the edges of Felda¡¯s room, finding them perfectly acceptable, and began looking for wherever my sandals had gotten to.


    I found my sandals beside the bed, in front of one of the small side tables that sat on either side of the bed, but froze when I saw what else was placed on top of said table, waiting for me like a snake coiled to strike. The hair brush, the one I¡¯d been too afraid to purchase for myself. I¡¯d forgotten to take it from Mel following our hasty departure from the general store, but she must have given it to Felda before they left.


    With one trembling hand, I reached out and picked up the brush, once again sitting on the edge of the bed as I stared at it. All that trouble, over something so small, so simple. I had wanted it more than I could have said, yet now was almost too afraid to even hold it. Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to toss some of my fluffy mane of orange hair over my shoulder and, achingly slowly, began lifting the brush up towards it.


    Seconds later, I set the brush back down on the side table. I flung my hair, untouched, back over my shoulders, and bent down to finish strapping my sandals back on. I hurried out of Felda¡¯s bedroom, shutting the door behind me without looking back.


    I lingered in the hallway, the short transitional space between the bedroom and the tavern, with my back against the wall, taking deep breaths. That was¡­ I didn¡¯t know what that was, but I couldn¡¯t go out to the main room like I was. My distress was evident, and though I could force my ears to stand up straight if I concentrated on them, my tail refused to stop lashing around like an out of control firehose. Were my new features always projecting my emotions like this, and I was only just now realizing it since becoming more in tune with my extra extremities? I had no way of knowing, but it made sense. Everyone always seemed so quick to offer me sympathy and a gentle word whenever my mood took a downward turn, and it was no wonder, if my ears and tail were constantly waving my feelings in everyone¡¯s faces like a flag.


    I grumbled, realizing that berating myself wasn¡¯t helping my sour mood. Taking a few more deep breaths, I tried to push the dark clouds up and out of my mind, and told myself I could deal with the brush later. I could hear the clatter and chatter of the tavern drifting around the corner, not quite in full swing yet, and, in the midst of it, hints of the people I was beginning to think of as my first and only friends in this world.


    If I focused, I could single out Elle and Mel¡¯s voices from the din. I could smell the food that was being served, a bouquet of fishy fragrances that filled the air as Felda toiled away in the kitchen. I realized I could even tell that Bart was present in the bar, as I picked his scent out from the mix. Almost everyone in this part of the village smelled like fish, but Bart had a few distinct identifiers: his boots had a unique odor, some kind of oil or polish that he probably applied regularly, and his breath carried hints of some pungent floral scent. And then there were the other, fainter hints; the smell of the dried meats and trail mix he kept on his person, or the aged paper of the book he carried. All of it came together to form a signature smell, as unique as a fingerprint, that left no doubt in my mind that the old fisherman was tucked away in his dark corner of the bar, reading quietly.


    It was¡­ actually kind of scary, how certain of that I was. I could probably have constructed a similar profile of Elle, Mel, and Felda¡¯s scents too, if I thought about it. It¡¯d make them easy to track down, if I ever lost them in a crowd, or if they ever went missing.


    ¡°Tssh¡­¡± I scoffed, rising to my feet. I guess when it came to catkin superpowers, I was just going to have to take the good with the bad. Everyone might know at a glance whenever I was sad, but I would never ever lose a game of hide and seek.


    Feeling better, (well, relatively,) I rounded the corner to the main room, taking in the state of the tavern. As I¡¯d thought, only three of the tables were occupied, one of them by the group of dwarves that contained Nils, the other two by small groups of dockworkers. Peter was once again seated at the bar, and if I craned my neck, I could indeed make out the silhouette of Bart in the dark corner booth behind the stairs.


    What I didn¡¯t expect was my presence to be noticed so quickly, and for the dockworkers that spotted me to exclaim cheerfully, raising their wooden mugs in my direction.


    ¡°Oy oy, cat girl!¡± they cried, a chant that was picked up and repeated by the other table, and suddenly all eyes were on me. I blinked in surprise and fought back the urge to flee back around the corner, giving the small crowd a little wave.


    Wow, is this what it feels like to be popular?


    Well, good attention or bad attention, it was a lot of attention, so I quickly excused myself by slipping behind the bar. Elle, who had also been amongst the group to exclaim her excitement at my arrival, appeared in front of the bar a moment later, beaming down at me.


    ¡°Welcome back, Sammie,¡± she chirped, and shuffled a little in embarrassment.


    ¡°H-hey Elle,¡± I said, scratching at the back of my head. ¡°Sorry I kinda just¡­ dozed off on you two, I didn¡¯t mean to, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh it¡¯s fine, we don¡¯t mind. It was actually kind of adorable,¡± Elle said, which only caused the faint heat in my cheeks to increase. ¡°I was just a little surprised you could be that tired again, especially since you said you had another nap before you went out with us.¡±


    ¡°Er, yeah, well, it¡¯s kind of different for me,¡± I stammered, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about. ¡°I was exhausted after coming back from my fishing training, but after a quick nap I was wide awake again, at least long enough for our shopping trip. Same with the nap I just took, it was probably only an hour but I feel like I could run a marathon.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Elle said, furrowing her brow. ¡°Is that normal?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s perfectly normal,¡± a politely accented voice cut in, and Elle and I turned, finding Peter smiling in our direction. He tilted his head, very fractionally tipping the little red cap on his head in greeting before continuing. ¡°Ah, apologies for eavesdropping, Miss Oakwood, Miss Fisher, but I couldn¡¯t help but overhear.¡±


    ¡°Peter, I keep telling you, you can just call me Elle!¡± Elle¡¯s tone was exasperated, but her smile was good natured, and the bird man just bobbed his head in response. ¡°Anyway, what were you saying?¡±


    ¡°Well, as Miss¡ª er, as Sam was saying, catkin have the ability to emulate their feline counterparts and space their sleep periods out into many smaller chunks throughout the day, rather than one long rest all at once, correct?¡±


    Peter looked to me, and I just stared back blankly before realizing he was asking for confirmation. With a start, I hastily nodded.


    ¡°Uh, yup, that¡¯s right!¡± I said, pointing a finger at him and grinning to cover the sudden spike in nerves I was feeling. Peter had implied as much before, but that was pretty solid confirmation that Bart wasn¡¯t the only person with prior experience with catkin I had to be wary of. At least I¡¯d been on the right track, but the way he said it made it sound like I could choose to sleep in shifts, when, in my experience, if my body said it was time to get some sleep, I had very little say in the matter.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Elle said as she finished absorbing the new fact, looking down at me appraisingly. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I¡¯ve got to get back to work, we¡¯ll talk more later, Sam. Nice talking to you too, Peter.¡±


    Peter moved one of his wings in a wave as Elle departed, just in time to receive a newly arrived group of fishermen.


    ¡°Thanks for the save,¡± I said after Elle had gone, and Peter appeared to ponder what I¡¯d said for a few moments before nodding his head.


    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re quite welcome, Sam, I know it can sometimes be¡­ difficult, or tiresome, to explain aspects of being a demihuman to the other races, especially if you don¡¯t fully understand them yourself.¡±


    I cocked my head slightly at his words, and Peter laughed before lowering his voice, mindful of the large bartender, Viktor, who had so far only given me a quick nod but had otherwise ignored our end of the bar.


    ¡°Forgive me, I could tell you were having a bit of trouble, explaining it to Miss Oakwood. It¡¯s really nothing to be embarrassed about, we can¡¯t help the eccentricities that come bundled with our unique existences,¡± Peter explained, reaching inside his red woolen vest and withdrawing a small twig, twirling it between his clawed fingers. ¡°Though I¡¯ve long since outgrown the nest building phase from when I was a young chick, I still find myself occasionally drawn to pick up particularly sturdy looking specimens like this, though I always end up throwing them out eventually. Just as this stick doesn¡¯t make me a bird, a couple of midday naps don¡¯t make you a cat. It¡¯s just a part of who we are.¡±


    I blinked, looking from Peter¡¯s face to the twig as he regarded it fondly, before tucking it back into his vest. That was awfully profound for a spur of the moment conversation, and I was kind of at a loss for what I could even say in response. Instead of trying to match his gravitas, or dispute that I¡¯d been feeling embarrassed about my nature as a catkin or whatever, I instead just asked the first question that popped into my head.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just keep one or two of them instead of throwing them all out?¡±


    Peter''s mouth opened slightly in surprise, before he regarded me with a smile, letting out a sensible chuckle and shrugging his shoulders.


    ¡°You know, I''ve never really asked myself. Perhaps I''ll think on it. Thank you for the conversation, Miss Fisher.¡±


    With that, Peter turned back to his meal. I recognized it as the same basket of battered and fried perch portions Felda had made for me following my return from the fishing lesson, plus a side of crisp-looking potato wedges. The sight of it made my mouth water, and I remembered that Felda had promised me another meal from the perch she''d set aside out of my catch.


    ¡°Uh, you''re welcome, I''ll see you around, Peter.¡± I belatedly remembered to offer my own parting to the bird man before I scurried away towards the kitchen door.


    Viktor once again regarded me as I passed, but this time he didn''t stop me, his thick brown mustache twitching as nodded in wordless greeting. He didn''t seem like much of a talker, so I just gave him a nod in return, flicking one of my ears. I slipped past him and pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, finding Fedla resting against the far counter.


    She looked up at my entrance, the golden pocketwatch in her hand, and beamed brightly.


    ¡°Almost exactly an hour on the dot,¡± she said, tucking her watch away and straightening up. ¡°I could probably set my watch by your naps.¡±


    I chuckled and rolled my eyes playfully, crossing the kitchen towards her in a few quick strides, before coming up short and catching myself. I wasn''t actually sure why I''d been closing in on Felda with such speed, and she seemed to share my confusion, tilting her head.


    ¡°Is something wrong, Sam?¡± The concerned tone of her voice reminded me of what had happened the last time I''d come to meet her in her kitchen immediately after waking up, and the memory of how hard I''d broken down was still quite raw, but I was determined not to put on a repeat performance.


    ¡°No, sorry, I¡­ my brain isn''t fully awake yet,¡± I said, closing the last steps between us at a more subdued pace. Felda laughed and smiled wider, and one of her large hands landed on the top of my head before I could think to react. As I purred and began tilting my head into her gentle petting, the answer came to me like a flash going off.


    ¡°Oooohh¡­¡± I sighed in realization, snapping my fingers. A bit of Elle and Mel¡¯s not-so-private conversation from before came back to me.


    They''re a lot more physical, especially with people they trust¡­


    It really wasn''t a difficult puzzle to solve at all. Though it had only been two days, I trusted Felda quite a lot, and my instincts wanted me to express that trust physically. Like my new taste for seafood, that was possibly a little disconcerting. Especially since, prior to my transformation, the very idea of being touched by anyone but my single closest friend was enough to make me nervous and uncomfortable. And yet, I¡¯d also always felt pangs of jealous envy whenever I witnessed how easily my classmates could pull off casual physical contact.


    Wait, no, that¡¯s not quite right. Not all my classmates, just¡­


    ¡°What¡¯s got you so deep in thought, Sam?¡±


    Felda¡¯s words were a handhold that I used to drag myself out of my own thoughts before I drowned in them, and I looked up at her, smiling ruefully.


    ¡°Cat stuff,¡± I said, and Felda chuckled at my non-answer, but didn¡¯t press the issue. ¡°Speaking of, you said you were going to make me something with that other perch, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t forget, don¡¯t worry,¡± Felda chuckled, removing her hand from my scalp and walking over towards the large oven that was currently filling the kitchen with heat and a particularly distracting smell. ¡°I was pretty sure you¡¯d be up by now, so I put it in a short while ago, it should just be finishing up now. Grab me a plate from the stack, if you please.¡±


    I was almost bouncing with excitement as Felda opened the oven a crack to peek inside, flooding the kitchen with even more of that mouth watering aroma. I spun around before I could get distracted and found the stack of clean dishware piled up on one of the nearby counters, grabbing a large plate and bringing it back to Felda.


    Slipping on a large padded glove, Felda reached into the oven and withdrew a small pan with a metal rack, in the center of which, glistening like a treasure, rested two side by side portions of the perch I''d caught, their pearly white skin baked to an enticing golden brown.


    While I was completely entranced, literally drooling over the sight of the delectable cut of fish, Felda reached into the oven a second time, withdrawing a second square-shaped, high-walled pan that sizzled softly as she placed it upon the counter. Taking a peek inside, I found it filled end to end with a layer of miniature potatoes that had been halved and coated in herbs and oil. Using a spatula, Felda deftly placed the portions of baked perch on the empty plate, then piled up a generous helping of roasted potatoes against it. There was still a third of the plate that sat glaringly empty, and Felda once again reached out, this time removing a pot that had been quietly simmering away on the stove, removing the lid and releasing a cloud of fragrant steam. Using a set of tongs, Felda filled the empty space on the plate with several of the long, thin shoots of asparagus that had been steaming in a basket above the water.


    Stepping back, Felda presented the assembled dinner to me, and for several seconds I just looked back and forth from it to her with my mouth hanging open.


    ¡°Oh my god, Felda,¡± I said, once I''d once I¡¯d picked my jaw up off the floor. I took a step closer, inhaling deeply and feeling my knees wobble a bit. ¡°That looks amazing!¡±


    ¡°Aww, thank you dear.¡± Felda beamed, once again petting the top of my head. Before I could start to reach for the plate, Felda let out a hum, running her fingers through my hair slowly, appraising it. ¡°It''s a good thing you remembered to pick up a brush, you really need it.¡±


    I felt my back stiffen at Felda¡¯s comment. That¡¯s right, she would have been the one to deliver the brush to the bedside table. Was that her way of saying I should have brushed my hair before I came down?


    No, no, I just as quickly shook away those thoughts. Felda didn''t talk in double meanings like that, if she wanted something from me she would just say so, I was certain of that.


    Before my momentary lapse could be noticed, I chuckled and nodded, flicking one of my ears at Felda¡¯s probing fingers.


    ¡°Heh, yeah, you can say that again,¡± I said, and not-so-subtly changed the subject.


    ¡°Uh, so, this still looks delicious, but it also looks like a whole lot of work, you didn''t need to go to so much trouble just for me,¡± I said, nodding down at the faintly steaming plate resting on the counter before me. ¡°N-not that I''m not grateful, I mean, it''s just¡ª¡±


    Felda cut me off with a laugh, slowly shaking her head as she leaned over me.


    ¡°Oh Sam, honestly,¡± she sighed as she stopped laughing, just giving me that same wide, patient smile. ¡°Cooking food for the people I care about is no trouble at all, in fact it¡¯s one of my greatest joys. This is hardly the most extravagant meal I could have made, and, if it makes you feel better, it¡¯s not only for you, see?¡±


    She motioned to the pot and pan, which still held multiple servings each of the vegetables, and I had seen more fish baking away in the ovens as well. That was right, Felda did own a restaurant in the end, so sparing a little extra to treat me to a fine meal wouldn¡¯t put her out at all.


    ¡°So please, Sam, you take this and you go enjoy yourself,¡± Felda insisted, patting me on the back nodding at the waiting plate. ¡°It¡¯s a special occasion, and you deserve to celebrate it!¡±


    Just like that, Felda''s words blew away the anxiety and guilt that had been building in the back of my mind over the fact that this meal consisted of much more than just the fish I''d caught, and I knew without even asking that Felda wouldn''t accept any payment for it.


    ¡°Okay, th¡­ thank you, Felda.¡± I conceded and, for good measure, leaned into the instincts I¡¯d felt welling up since I arrived and threw my arms around her waist, giving her a quick squeeze before pulling away and picking up the plate. I had just enough presence of mind to grab a knife and fork before I fled the kitchen with my face burning, keeping my head down as I scurried out from behind the bar, and finally weaving my way towards the far corner booth where Bart still sat.


    Depositing myself into the opposite bench, I met Bart¡¯s eyes as he looked up from his book. He offered me a small smile and nodded at my plate.


    ¡°I see Felda couldn¡¯t resist spoiling you for a single day,¡± he commented, and I snorted.


    ¡°I tried to tell her the same thing!¡± I protested with a laugh, pouring generously from the pitcher of lemonade that already sat in the center of the table, into the extra glass that was already waiting for me. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re one to talk, trying to treat me to two whole danishes in one day.¡±


    I grinned, getting a certain amount of smug satisfaction out of the look on Bart¡¯s face at the reminder. He tried to hide the wider smile I knew was forming behind his clenched fist, and settled on a gruff, raspy chuckle while shaking his head.


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s fair,¡± he said, leaning back in the booth and clearing his throat. ¡°Either way, I hope as much as Felda does that you enjoy it, you earned it.¡±


    I smiled, and only for a second did I doubt whether or not that was true. Lapsing back into comfortable silence, Bart returned to his book while I picked up my utensils, slicing off a large chunk of the perch and eagerly shoving it into my mouth.


    ¡°Mmmmmmhhhhhmmm¡­¡±


    I let out a groan as the subtle flavor overtook me. Just like before, the perch¡¯s flesh was firm but flakey, with a sweet undertone that was emphasized and complemented by the blend of spices that had been baked into a thin crust on top of the fillet. Already reeling from the taste of the fish, I jabbed a few of the crisp potato halves and popped them in next, shuddering at the way the crisp outer shell crunched before giving way to tender, fluffy interior. The potatoes were a bit spicier than the fish, their outsides dotted with large flecks I soon realized were probably crushed pepper seeds. Lastly, after taking a long gulp of lemonade to wash down the first two mouthfuls, I speared a couple of the asparagus stalks and, with slightly less gusto, raised them to my mouth to take a bite. My initial hesitation was immediately blown away by the buttery, tender, delicious taste of the shoots, and I wolfed down the first two stalks and went back for two more before I remembered I had a whole plate to clear.


    By the time I¡¯d finished eating, I was so full and satisfied I thought I could easily fall back to sleep right there in the booth.


    ¡°Ooouuhh¡­ Baaaart¡­¡± I grunted, rising from where I¡¯d sprawled out lengthwise across my half of the booth, meeting the man¡¯s eyes again as he looked up. ¡°Where did Felda learn to cook like that?¡±


    ¡°Hah, you¡¯d have to ask her for the full story,¡± Bart said, chuckling again. ¡°All I can say is that she¡¯s had many years to hone her skills.¡±


    ¡°I can tell,¡± I said, idly dragging a finger across the surface of my now empty plate, licking a bit of the flavorful greasy residue from my fingertip. ¡°I¡¯m surprised she isn¡¯t working in some fancy high class restaurant or something, with how good she is.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well, that¡¯s¡­¡± Bart trailed off, looking uncharacteristically troubled.


    Before Bart could manage to find the words he was searching for, I turned my head, my attention drawn by a sudden commotion. It was the sound of heavy footfalls and several raucous overlapping voices out on the docks, and though I was the first one to notice it, everyone in the tavern was looking up well before the dark mass of people appeared outside the front windows. The double doors were practically blown open as a small crowd of people washed into the tavern like a wave crashing onto the beach, and I felt my eyes going wide as I took in their appearances.


    There were at least fifteen of them, men and women both, mostly mixed between humans and elves, but also several people who I couldn¡¯t identify. They were larger and bulkier than their comrades, with waxy skin that ranged from dark, mottled greens and reds, to pale milky white, and every one seemed to have some the same sort of odd growths sprouting from their shoulders and heads; thick stalks with wide, round caps that I realized were mushrooms.


    Even more striking than this new race of people I¡¯d yet to meet, were the ways in which this crowd of people were dressed. Their outfits were rugged and piecemeal, many bearing the signs of constant and frequent repairs, and as they started to break off into groups and find seats around the tavern, I noticed that every single one of them was visibly armed in some way. Some had swords hanging at their hips, some had the handles of knives protruding from their shirts, and one of the large mushroom people even walked with a thick wooden pole that was as tall as she was.


    I was already suspicious of this crowd, but the appearance of the last two people to enter was what really sealed the deal. The first was a large man with tanned skin and sandy blonde hair, which was broken up by a pair of large, slightly rounded ears. His eyes were similarly golden in color, and swept around the room in a quick circuit. He wore a loose-fitting orange shirt that hung half open, leaving his muscular physique on full display, as well as tattered red pants that ended several inches above his bare, clawed feet. When he turned to make way for the last member of the crowd to enter, I saw a large, bushy tail covered in the same shaggy blonde fur, snaking out from the back of his pants and lightly waving in the air as he spoke to the man entering after him.


    The final person to enter was an elf, his skin a similar shade of purplish blue to Mel¡¯s, while his hair was a much lighter sky blue, going almost white at the tips. He wore a floppy, wide brimmed hat that sat slightly askew on his head, and had a huge overcoat that almost touched the floor draped over his shoulders. His clothes were nicer than the rest, consisting of some kind of short sleeved robe embroidered with wave patterns that ended at his thighs and loose, flowing pants with a similar design. At his hips he wore not a sword, but a pair of short lengths of intricately carved wood that I would have had to have been an idiot not to realize were wands. He let out a light, tinkling laugh at whatever the dog man had said, and followed him to one of the booths, which several of his crew members had reserved space for him in.


    Yes, they were his crew members, I was sure of that. Just as I was absolutely sure that the elf in blue robes was the captain of this crew, and the dog man his second-in-command, and that they and every single person that had just entered the tavern were pirates.


    Behind me, Bart just let out a tired sigh, which I felt was a little too calm of a reaction to having the tavern suddenly overrun with pirates.


    ¡°Bart¡­¡± I said, whispering even though none of the burly crew members had sat near us.


    ¡°Mmmh?¡± Bart hummed, and I turned, meeting his eyes, crouched so low I was almost sliding out of the bench and under the table. Damnit, why was he so calm?


    ¡°I think those are pirates!¡± I hissed through my teeth.


    Bart stared back at me, his face a flat, indecipherable mask. Slowly, deliberately, he brought a hand up and clenched it into a fist, then pressed that fist into his mouth, his calm demeanor finally breaking as his face scrunched up and he let out a choked, muffled snort. I gaped, aghast, as Bart struggled not to laugh at me while we were surrounded by pirates.


    ¡°Bart, this is no laughing matter!¡± I spluttered at him, which only seemed to make him double over harder, opening his clenched fist and pressing his whole hand against his mouth. He held up his other hand, palm out towards me, telling me to wait, or perhaps stop, while he regained his composure. By the time he had, I was fully scowling, sitting with my arms crossed as he caught his breath and met my concerned glare.


    ¡°I¡­ apologize, Sam, that was very¡­ ahem¡­¡± Bart didn¡¯t seem to know what to say for himself, clearing his throat and dragging a hand across his stubbled chin. Finally, he just settled on nodding, saying, ¡°Yes, those are pirates, Sam.¡±


    ¡°I know that,¡± I shot back, glancing over my shoulder. To my consternation, it wasn¡¯t just Bart who was showing a starting lack of concern for the current situation, but everyone in the tavern. The regular patrons, momentarily shocked into silence by the appearance of the pirate crew, had returned to their usual business of eating and chatting. I could even see Elle and Mel making their way around the tavern, taking the crew¡¯s orders. It was utterly baffling.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be worried?¡± I asked, snapping my eyes back to Bart, who was giving me a strange, bemused look as he relaxed back into the booth. At my words, some of his casual air evaporated, and his brows furrowed.


    ¡°What? No, of course not, this is Torgard. Why would we have need to fear pirates here?¡± Bart asked, and though I understood every word he said, the casual, offhanded way he dismissed my worries made me feel like I must have been hearing him wrong.


    ¡°Because,¡± I said, leaning closer, my own brows knitting together as confusion overtook my concern. ¡°Aren¡¯t pirates dangerous criminals?¡±


    Oh, I did not like the way Bart¡¯s eyes widened as soon as those words left my lips. But I barely had time to worry about that, as a loud, booming voice cut across the entire tavern, overpowering all other sounds.


    ¡°Oy, who the fuck said that?!¡±


    Feeling the blood in my veins turn to ice, I turned, slowly, in the direction the shout had come from, locking eyes with the fierce golden irises of the dog man seated beside the pirate captain. His nostrils flared, and one of his pointed ears twitched as his gaze bore into my soul, and I got the distinct impression he already knew exactly who had said that.


    I opened my mouth, trying to force out some kind of apology, but my throat closed up like a vice, and all that escaped was a strangled squeak. Before my rationality could completely fail me, I wracked my brain for options, and when a brilliant, foolproof plan to escape the situation presented itself, I acted without a second thought.


    I ducked down into the booth, slid off the bench, and hid under the table.

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.8 (Morgan)

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 8


    ¡ö ¡ö


    It took Morgan longer than she thought it would to catch up to the pirate ship, even taking into account her new, nearly superhuman swimming speed. For almost an hour, she was worried her hesitation would lead to the ship totally outpacing her and disappearing into the open ocean, but eventually the distance between her and it began to shrink. She kept her pace up until she could just start to make out the figures moving about on the deck, at which point she began to hang back, trailing in the ship¡¯s wake and using the next half hour or so to really think about how she planned to approach Red Molly. Before she could really come to any solid decisions, the ship slowed and Morgan could see it approaching the coast of a small nearby island, eventually coming to a full stop, a loud splash indicating that the anchor had been dropped.


    Swimming just close enough that she could keep watching the crew moving across the deck, Morgan felt herself hesitating; the hyperactive energy from her bold declaration to Captain Silas plus the inflated confidence she¡¯d felt ever since discovering that she was now over six feet tall were going to war with her caution and reason. She diverted her path, swimming towards a trio of narrow formations of white rock that protruded out of the water, hiding behind one of the pillars so she could discreetly observe the ship at a distance.


    ¡°Okay, you¡¯ve caught up to them,¡± she whispered to herself, only slightly winded from her exertion, her heavy breaths visibly fogging in the cold ocean air. ¡°Now what?¡±


    She¡¯d been agonizing over that exact question for most of the trip, and still hadn¡¯t reached a solid decision. Sure, she¡¯d decided she wanted to join the pirates, but that didn¡¯t automatically mean they¡¯d accept her in return so easily. She had basically nothing to offer except a head full of dubiously useful facts and tidbits from a world that wasn¡¯t this one and two years of after-school judo classes. For ¡°self-defense,¡± she¡¯d convinced her parents. She supposed her being some kind of fantastical hybrid of human and shark had to count for something, especially since she was just so big now, but until she learned how to crew a sailing ship or actually fight, she would just be another mouth to feed, and there was no telling if pirates would be willing to put up with that for very little gain.


    Still unable to come to a conclusion on exactly how she wanted to approach the ship, or how she was going to go about convincing the odd, yet intimidating woman who was its captain to take her on, Morgan let herself get distracted trying to figure out why the pirates had stopped at this particular island.


    The island itself was a tiny thing, relatively speaking, roughly oval shaped and not much bigger than a parking lot from one end to the other. A sandy outer edge quickly gave way to flat grassy earth, broken up here and there by a smattering of bushes and towering palm trees. The small island had just enough room at its center for a single modest structure and a square of neatly arranged vegetation which Morgan could tell was a field or garden of some kind, and Morgan could make out a pair of figures waiting on the beach while a rowboat steadily made its way towards them.


    ¡°What are they up to?¡± Morgan asked aloud again, instinctively narrowing her eyes to try and get a better look at the island, despite no longer possessing, or needing, her glasses.


    ¡°They are acquiring some extra vegetables for tonight¡¯s dinner,¡± a cool voice behind her spoke unexpectedly, and Morgan let out shrill yelp that she was sure carried across the ocean. She spun around, finding Poppy¡¯s head emerging from the water, her curtains of dark hair plastered to her face and making her look a bit like a lake monster, emerging from the depths to consume her.


    ¡°W-w-what are you doing here?¡± Morgan sputtered as she pressed herself against the rocky column, at least as much as the fin on her back would allow. Poppy''s eyes, wide and wet and pitch black except for the red rings of her pupils, narrowed ever so slightly at her question.


    ¡°You followed us,¡± Poppy said, and Morgan had to stop herself from biting her lip so hard, not just because it was a bad habit, but also because her teeth were a lot sharper now.


    ¡°O-oh, right, I guess I did¡­¡± Morgan said, chuckling nervously. It had been kind of a stupid question, in hindsight, like she¡¯d just called someone up on the phone only to then demand they tell her why they¡¯d called.


    ¡°Many of the crew did not believe you would,¡± Poppy said, and Morgan winced a little. She wasn¡¯t sure which was more concerning, the fact that her fascination with the pirates had been so nakedly obvious to everyone but her, or that her cowardly and hesitant nature was equally as apparent.


    ¡°However,¡± Poppy continued, before Morgan could become completely crestfallen and lose her nerve entirely. ¡°Captain Molly was certain that you would.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Morgan said, a little too enthusiastically. It wasn¡¯t that much different than some of the crew doubting her, but the fact that Red Molly actually, in a roundabout sort of way, believed in her, was enough to buoy her spirits and convince her that she hadn¡¯t made a huge mistake.


    ¡°And, uh¡­¡± Morgan began to ask, spurred on by her newly reinflated confidence. ¡°What did you think I would do?¡±


    Poppy stared back at her for a few moments until, for the first time, breaking her unwavering gaze and turning her head away from Morgan before answering.


    ¡°I trusted in Captain Molly''s judgment, as always.¡±


    Morgan couldn¡¯t help but chuckle a little at that. It was kind of cute, the way Poppy¡¯s frightening appearance contrasted with how easy it seemed to fluster her. The irony of how poorly her own meek personality matched with her new no doubt fearsome shark-like body was not lost on her.


    ¡°So, uh-¡± Morgan cleared her throat, stopping that train of thought before it could go any further off the rails. ¡°I guess it¡¯s obvious why I¡¯m here, right?¡±


    ¡°You wish to join Captain Molly¡¯s crew,¡± Poppy said. It was a statement, not a question, but Morgan nodded anyway.


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± Morgan confirmed, looking over her shoulder, past the rocks at the looming shape of the ship in the distance. ¡°Though now that I¡¯m here, I wonder if it¡¯ll really be that easy.¡±


    ¡°It will not,¡± Poppy said, drawing Morgan¡¯s eyes back. ¡°Captain Molly may be an eccentric woman, even by pirate standards, but she has standards of her own, and if you are found not to meet them, you will be rejected outright.¡±


    Morgan blinked. That was no less than she expected, but to hear Poppy state it so plainly was another thing.


    ¡°You¡¯re very blunt, you know,¡± Morgan said, chuckling a little to show she wasn¡¯t actually that bothered by it.


    Unfortunately, Poppy did not seem to get the message, and her head sank back a little into water, her pink eyes dipping. One of her hands came up, grasping for the edge of a hood that wasn¡¯t there before settling on tracing a lock of her long black hair.


    ¡°My apologies¡­¡± Poppy said, and Morgan¡¯s heart jumped into her throat.


    ¡°No no, it¡¯s okay!¡± she hastily tried to reassure Poppy. If they hadn¡¯t both been bobbing in the ocean she¡¯d have reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but that just meant she tried extra hard to push as much sincerity into her voice as possible. ¡°I mean, I like it much better when people are straightforward, instead of trying to hide what they really think behind words they don¡¯t actually mean!¡±


    Poppy¡¯s eyes raised, studying Morgan with the searching, analytical gaze she was begging to grow used to. Thankfully, she didn¡¯t seem at all phased by Morgan¡¯s sudden intensity, and she was sure she saw the corners of her mouth turn upwards, just by a fraction.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Poppy said quietly, then took a deep breath through her nose, straightening her back and resetting her face into a flat mask. ¡°Come, we should get you aboard the ship before the crew finish their errand. Captain Molly will not want to be kept waiting much longer.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay,¡± Morgan said, starting to circle around the rock she¡¯d been using as cover, but pausing, an impulsive thought occurring to her.


    ¡°Hey,¡± she called out before Poppy could glide too far ahead of her. When she looked back, Morgan put on a grin that she hoped looked friendly and didn¡¯t show too many teeth. ¡°Want to race there?¡±


    Poppy looked back at her, her expression still unreadable, but after a moment she dipped her head in a nod.


    ¡°If you wish,¡± Poppy said, and moved back towards the rock at Morgan''s insistence.


    ¡°Ready? I''ll count,¡± Morgan offered. Once Poppy nodded her assent, Morgan took a deep breath and began her countdown.


    ¡°Three¡­¡±


    Morgan shifted her body, planting her feet on the rock behind her. Beside her, Poppy just sank lower into the water, leaving only her eyes and the top of her head visible.


    ¡°Two¡­¡±


    Morgan felt her heart rate speeding up as the anticipation built inside her, fueling her spirit of competition. She knew it would only be a short race, and afterwards she''d have to go back to her usual unsure self, but for now she was going to relish these feelings and focus only on one thing.


    Winning.


    ¡°One!¡±


    With a shout, she pushed off the rock, one arm outstretched, legs kicking behind her as she slipped into a familiar and reliable freestyle stroke, which was only improved by her not needing to come up for air as she swam. She was focused on her technique first and foremost, but she couldn¡¯t help sneaking a sideways glance to see how Poppy was doing, and was hit with a shocking revelation. Not only was Poppy only slightly behind her, and even gaining slightly, but she was also, like Morgan, completely naked. It took her only a fraction of a second to rationalize that fact away, that the collection of cloth wrappings she¡¯d seen Poppy wearing before could only barely be called clothing, and she¡¯d likely removed them before entering the water. Morgan also got a look at the way Poppy was swimming; she was slicing through the water like a snake, her arms pinned to her sides and her legs kicking as one, her whole body undulating like a wave. Even more surprising was the look of fierce determination on her face, her eyes narrowed to slits and her forehead and cheeks scrunched with the effort of her exertion.


    Wow¡­


    Morgan felt that one thought rise to the surface before she tore her eyes away from the other woman, refocusing her effort on her own wheeling arms and pumping legs. Try as she might to pull ahead of Poppy, Morgan could only manage to delay being overtaken for a few more moments before she lost the lead and, a second later, the race, as she and Poppy slapped a hand each against the wooden hull of the ship.


    ¡°That was¡­ a close one¡­¡± Morgan panted slightly, catching her breath while Poppy guided her towards a dangling rope ladder that hung from the railing overhead. Poppy turned back towards her, one hand on the first rung of the ladder, and her expression gave Morgan pause. She looked¡­ upset? Maybe even mildly angry, her brows knitted together, her thin mouth turned downward in a disappointed frown.


    ¡°I suppose it was,¡± Poppy said, hauling herself out of the water, and Morgan quickly averted her eyes. ¡°Though I am not sure why you would challenge me to a race, only to let me win.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Morgan asked, almost glancing up at the leech girl as she climbed after her, but catching herself at the last second. What was she talking about? She''d been swimming her ass off back there!


    ¡°I¡­ I didn''t let you win!¡± Morgan insisted, her eyes still downcast, so she couldn''t tell if Poppy was looking back at her either. She felt herself reach the top of the ladder, and one of Poppy¡¯s cold hands on her own, helping her over the wooden railing, onto the ship.


    ¡°Then, tell me,¡± Poppy said, her red eyes seeking out Morgan¡¯s before she could turn them away again. ¡°Why were you swimming like a land-dweller?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ what?¡± Morgan asked, confused.


    ¡°Why were you swimming so close to the surface? Why were you not using your tail?¡± Poppy clarified, and Morgan felt her eyes widen.


    Turning her body and craning her neck, Morgan looked back over her shoulder at the appendage in question. She''d noticed it was there before, the first time she leapt from the water upon first waking in the middle of the ocean, but she hadn''t had much time to spare to really consider it. Her tail was about as thick around as one of her thighs, and sloped smoothly out from the base of her spine. It featured one backwards facing hook shaped dorsal fin near the base, then tapered for a bit before flaring out into a tall, vertical, crescent shaped caudal fin at the end. It shared the same coloration as the rest of her body; dark, steel-colored gray on top, pale silver on the underside, streaked with dark jagged shapes reminiscent of a tiger''s stripes. And it was long, over half as long as her entire body, so much so that it would have been dragging on the ground if it didn''t curve upwards slightly at the end. It was so large and took up so much space that nobody would be able to stand behind her without bumping into it, and any way you looked at it, it would be impossible to ignore that it was there.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Morgan said, distantly. With a thought, she flicked her tail from side to side once, then met Poppy''s gaze and chuckled nervously.


    ¡°I forgot?¡±


    Poppy¡¯s face softened at that, and she once again narrowed her eyes at Morgan.


    ¡°Are you certain you did not hit your head?¡±


    Morgan felt her cheeks heating up as Poppy leaned in towards her, eyeing her intently. She cursed internally at her carelessness. How could someone just forget an entire limb? Not only was Poppy unlikely to believe her, but even if she did, would that give away that Morgan was not truly what she seemed?


    ¡°A-ah, uhm, no¡­ I mean¡­¡±


    ¡°Ah-hem.¡±


    A deep, gravely voice cut into Morgan¡¯s flustered rambling, and she jolted, realizing for the first time that the two of them were not alone on the deck of the ship. Aside from the few crew members she could see busying themselves with some task or another, there was also an odd-looking man leaning against the nearest mast, grinning directly at Morgan and Poppy.


    He was large, about as tall as Morgan was in her new body, and wider too, with broad muscular shoulders that were left bare by his sleeveless shirt. His skin was dark and ruddy, with occasional pale splotches, his hair was entirely white and braided, pulled back into a short ponytail, and, most shockingly, he seemed to have little red and white mushrooms sprouting up randomly across his shoulders and scalp.


    He looked on as Morgan gaped at him, his grin widening, showing off a mouth full of broad, brick-shaped teeth.


    ¡°Am I interruptin¡¯ somethin'', ladies?¡± he asked.


    Morgan''s only reply was to let out a shocked squeak before scrambling to hide herself behind Poppy, despite the leech girl being more than a full head shorter than her. It must have made for a comical sight, because the man burst out laughing, slapping one of his hands against his thigh.


    In front of Morgan, Poppy¡¯s shoulders rose and fell as she took in a deep breath through her nose and let it out in a sigh.


    ¡°This guppy is who th''cap''n was waitin¡¯ for?¡± the man asked once he''d regained his composure, and Morgan shrank back even further. ¡°I thought you said she was s¡¯pposed to be big!¡±


    ¡°Chef Balthazar, you are being very obnoxious,¡± Poppy stated plainly, which only made the man, Balthazar, chuckle again.


    ¡°Chef?¡± Morgan asked, lifting her head and peering out from behind Poppy.


    ¡°Aye, ship¡¯s cook, that''s me,¡± Balthazar said, thumping his chest. Morgan took a closer look at him, past the red skin and mushroom growths, and noticed a large belt resting across his hips that was laden with knives of all shapes and sizes.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Morgan said, nodding her head. ¡°I, uh, I imagine it must be a difficult job, keeping a ship of this size properly fed.¡±


    ¡°Hah, y¡¯can say that again!¡± Balthazar laughed again, putting a hand over the side of his mouth as though he were about to share a secret, but he continued speaking at full volume. ¡°Don¡¯ tell Hollis, but I¡¯m the real reason this ship runs even half as well as it does.¡±


    ¡°Uh, who?¡± Morgan asked, furrowing her brow.


    ¡°He is speaking of Quartermaster Hollis,¡± Poppy explained. ¡°Chef Balthazar derives some manner of joy from pestering and belittling him, despite ostensibly being his subordinate, due to the relative difficulty replacing him would entail.¡±


    ¡°S¡¯called ¡®job security,¡¯ lass, and yer one ta talk,¡± Balthazar said, smirking and pushing himself off the mast. ¡°Well, I have ta get back ta preppin¡¯ for tonight¡¯s feast, jus¡¯ wanted ta get a look at¡¯cha while I had the chance.¡±


    Morgan frowned as the man walked away, disappearing down a set of stairs into the bowels of the ship.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, he is kind of grating,¡± Morgan said.


    ¡°Do not mind what he said, I believe he was only attempting to get a rise out of you for his own amusement,¡± Poppy replied, then turned her head to peer back at Morgan. ¡°Could you please remove your hands from my shoulders now?¡±


    ¡°Oh! Sorry!¡± Morgan squeaked, yanking her hands back and clutching them in front of herself. She hadn¡¯t even realized she¡¯d been clinging to the smaller woman while trying to hide herself from the rest of the crew.


    Poppy nodded, ducking around Morgan and bending down, retrieving a pile of cloth from the deck.


    ¡°You may wear this to cover yourself for the time being, if you wish,¡± Poppy said, holding out a cloak that Morgan recognized as the one she¡¯d been wearing earlier. She took it, and stared for a moment as Poppy began wrapping herself in the long strips of white cloth. Her curiosity momentarily overpowered her decency, and she couldn¡¯t help but note that Poppy¡¯s torso appeared to be completely featureless, lacking either nipples or a belly button, but thankfully she managed to stop herself from looking any lower, and quickly spun on her heels, throwing the cloak over her shoulders and pulling down the hood to hide her suddenly burning face. It didn¡¯t exactly fit perfectly, with her fin in the way, and it only came down to just above her knees, but she was able to pull it tight enough to cover herself.


    ¡°May I ask you a question?¡± Poppy asked from behind her, and Morgan nodded before realizing she probably couldn¡¯t see that.


    ¡°Y-yeah?¡±


    ¡°Were you raised primarily among land-dwellers?¡±


    It was such a strange, surprising question that it took Morgan a few extra seconds just to make sure she¡¯d actually heard it right.


    ¡°Huh?¡± she asked, half turning to peek around the edge of the hood.


    ¡°It is simply an observation, but I have noticed you seem to exhibit many of their traits, including the same extreme aversion that some of them have to nudity, which is not often shared by our kind,¡± Poppy explained, and Morgan might have been imagining it, but she thought she could hear a hint of humor creep into Poppy¡¯s voice at that.


    ¡°Oh, uh, y-yes, I was¡­ raised among humans,¡± Morgan hesitantly answered, seeing out of the corner of her eye that Poppy was finished wrapping her midsection at least. She turned back around to face her, finding that a miniscule smile had crept onto the taciturn woman¡¯s face. ¡°That¡¯s why I act¡­ differently than you might expect.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Poppy said, kneeling down to tie the last of the cloth wrappings around her lower legs. ¡°Were they kind to you?¡±


    Morgan thought of the other kids at school. She thought of Mandy. She thought of him.


    She thought of her parents.


    ¡°They were¡­ not unkind,¡± she said, hesitating a moment as though she thought anything she might say here would ever make it back to anyone from her home world. ¡°Some of them were nice and some of them weren¡¯t. I was different, and that bothered some people.¡±


    She figured it wasn¡¯t technically in the way Poppy probably thought she meant, but it was the truth, and it felt nice to say. Poppy stood up, her outfit, such as it was, once more in place, and Morgan saw the smile she wasn¡¯t even sure had been there was gone. She spent several long seconds just staring at Morgan, so much so that she began to grow nervous, pulling the cloak even tighter.


    ¡°W-what?¡± Morgan asked, averting her eyes, unable to meet that intense gaze any longer.


    ¡°Oh¡­ my apologies, I was¡­ distracted,¡± Poppy said, her voice somewhat distant and her brow furrowed. She shook her head once and visibly composed herself, standing straighter and once again stilling her face. ¡°Come, we have wasted enough time.¡±


    With that, she turned and motioned for Morgan to follow. Confused, and more than a little apprehensive, she did so, trailing behind Poppy as she headed for the stern of the ship. There, situated between the two staircases that led up to the helm, were a set of closed double doors, which Morgan knew would lead into the captain¡¯s cabin. As they approached, she began to wish she¡¯d spent more time thinking about what she was going to say when she was presented to Red Molly.


    The doors opened without a sound and Poppy led her into a large room that sent Morgan¡¯s heart racing, because it looked almost exactly like she expected it to. As far as furniture went, there was a rectangular table situated in the center of the room surrounded by chairs, and a pair of well-worn couches on either end of the room, and several disparately sized shelves arranged against the walls with no apparent thought put into their placement. That alone wasn¡¯t that exciting, no, it was the fact that the room was an absolute mess that Morgan found so enthralling. There were books piled onto and spilling out of shelves or left randomly shoved into one corner of a couch, there were scrolls, scraps of paper, and even clothes scattered everywhere from the table to chairs to the floor, and there were so many unidentifiable trinkets, bobbles, and knick-knacks everywhere it made Morgan¡¯s head spin to try and identify them all. There were half-melted candles stuck to the tops of shelves and what looked like a half-eaten wheel of cheese resting on the table with a large knife stuck into it. Beyond the table, past the far wall, Morgan could see through another half-open door into the bedroom beyond, and she could swear it looked even more cluttered and disorganized than this first room.


    It was, in Morgan¡¯s opinion, exactly what a pirate captain¡¯s cabin should look like.


    Beside her, Poppy¡¯s shoulders rose and fell and she let out an extended sigh, lowering her head.


    ¡°I apologize for the state of things in here, Captain Molly is¡­ not a very organized woman,¡± Poppy said, and Morgan couldn¡¯t help but laugh.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s perfect!¡± Morgan said, giggling as Poppy turned to give her a dubious look. ¡°It¡¯s like something out of a mov-er, a story! If you asked me to picture the captain¡¯s quarters on a pirate ship, this is exactly what I¡¯d imagine.¡±


    ¡°Please do not let Captain Molly hear you say that,¡± Poppy said, and Morgan had to bite her tongue to not laugh even harder at that, but she couldn¡¯t quite wipe the grin off her face.


    Thinking of the captain, she turned, noting the open door and the bedroom beyond. She realized, after a moment of listening, that she could in fact hear voices wafting out into the cabin, one that clearly belonged to Red Molly, and a second, much quieter voice that Morgan couldn¡¯t place.


    ¡°Who is she talking to?¡± Morgan asked, quietly, since she was a little wary that her previous outburst had disturbed some important meeting.


    ¡°She is most likely conferring with Mavis,¡± Poppy answered simply. Too simply, Morgan noted, as she¡¯d noticed Poppy tended to refer to her fellow pirates by their titles as well as their names, but whoever this ¡°Mavis¡± was did not warrant one. She obviously noticed Morgan¡¯s confusion, as after a moment she elaborated. ¡°It is difficult to explain the exact details of her¡­ relationship to Captain Molly. You will see, in time. Perhaps.¡±


    Poppy seemed to have added that last bit as an afterthought, since she herself had said Morgan¡¯s acceptance onto the crew was by no means a sure thing. Eventually, the conversation in the bedroom concluded, and the half-ajar door was kicked ¡ª yes, actually kicked ¡ª the rest of the way open, and Red Molly swaggered out into the cabin with an enormous grin on her face. She had removed her hat and her large red coat, and Morgan now saw that the high-necked black shirt she wore had no sleeves, leaving her thin but toned arms bare.


    Morgan kept watching the doorway for a few moments, expecting someone else to follow, but when no one did, she simply shook her head and met the pink eyes of the pirate captain.


    ¡°Well!¡± Red Molly began, rounding the table and strolling right up to Morgan so fast and forcefully that she felt herself pressing back against the closed doors behind her. ¡°Look at you! I didn¡¯t get a good look atcha before, all curled up like a dying spider, but you¡¯re quite the specimen!¡±


    Morgan nodded sheepishly, then jolted slightly when Red Molly reached out for the cloak she was shielding herself with, clearly intent on getting a closer look at the rest of her body. Thankfully, Poppy¡¯s hand flashed out and she deftly smacked the back of Red Molly¡¯s own outstretched hand, causing her to yelp and yank it back.


    ¡°Oh, fine, I suppose I saw enough earlier to know you¡¯re built like a gunboat,¡± Red Molly said after momentarily nursing the back of her hand. Taking a step back, she put her hands on her hips, stuck out her chest, and grinned up at Morgan. ¡°So! I take it your presence here means that my rousing tale of me and my crew¡¯s seafaring exploits has inflamed your passion for adventure, and you wish to pledge yourself to service aboard my ship?¡±


    Morgan stared back, blinking as the full-on, almost tangible force of the captain¡¯s personality hit her square in the face.


    ¡°Ah, well, I wouldn¡¯t exactly put it that way, but¡­ yes?¡± Morgan replied.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Red Molly barked in response, putting a hand on one of the swords hanging off her belt, one that featured a red jewel in the pommel, and began to speak down at it. ¡°You see, Mav, I told you! I saw that look in her eyes, and I knew she¡¯d be washing up on my deck before sunrise!¡±


    Morgan waited for¡­ something, anything, to happen, but the interior of the cabin remained silent in the wake of Red Molly¡¯s exclamation. She turned, looking to Poppy for some signal of what she should do, or what was going on, but Poppy¡¯s eyes were fixed firmly on the captain, and her blank and impassive face had no help for her.


    Is Mavis¡­ her sword? Is she talking to her sword? Was she talking to her sword in there?


    Morgan began to feel, perhaps a little belatedly, that it was possible she was making a mistake coming here, if the captain of this ship talked to her sword like it was a person. She had been certain that she¡¯d heard a second voice from the bedroom though.


    ¡°Ah, she¡¯s pouting because I was right, again,¡± Red Molly said, shrugging and removing her hand from the weapon. Morgan decided to reserve judgement as best she could for the moment. ¡°Well, I suppose we ought to hear you out then. Come, tell me a bit about yourself, you know, impress me. Poppy, do we have any more of that cherry wine?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Captain,¡± Poppy answered, already moving from her spot beside Morgan.


    ¡°Great, pour us some, would you, dear?¡± Red Molly asked, dropping sideways into one of the couches, knocking over a stack of books that had been resting on one of the arms.


    Morgan hesitated for a moment, before moving to pull out one of the chairs from the table and take a seat in it, facing the couch. She had to maneuver her tail a bit before she could sit properly, but thankfully the chairs seemed to have been built with extra space between the seat and backrest, specifically for people with tails like hers to sit in.


    ¡°Uh, I¡¯m fine, thank you,¡± she said, watching as Poppy moved to one of the many chests around the room, producing a bottle that audibly sloshed and a pair of metal cups. She knew that she was supposed to be using this new life to experiment with new things she¡¯d never experienced, but she wasn¡¯t quite ready for something as outrageous as underage drinking yet.


    ¡°Your loss,¡± Red Molly said, shrugging, accepting the cup after Poppy poured out a generous portion of the dark red liquid into it, and taking a sip that seemed just a little too long to be reasonable.


    ¡°Uh, yes, well, I¡¯m not really sure where to start¡­¡± Morgan began to speak, but quickly lost steam again, tapping a finger against her chin.


    ¡°How ¡®bout your name?¡± Red Molly asked, her broad grin dyed slightly red.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Morgan jerked in her seat, unable to believe she¡¯d forgotten the most basic of common courtesies. ¡°Right, sorry, my name is Morgan, Morgan Hunter.¡±


    ¡°Huh, really?¡± Red Molly said, cocking her head to one side and raising an eyebrow. ¡°Morgan, Morgan¡­ that sounds like a human name.¡±


    ¡°O-oh?¡± Morgan stammered. She didn¡¯t know what else to say, since until a few hours ago, she was a human. Her brief conversation with Poppy earlier sprang back into her mind, and she leaned forward to hastily add, ¡°Well, yes, that¡¯s because I was raised around humans, you see.¡±


    ¡°Aaaah,¡± Red Molly said, tilting her head back and taking another sip from her cup. ¡°That¡¯d explain it¡­ And your family name is ¡®Hunter,¡¯ huh?¡±


    Morgan nodded, sighing internally, and leaned back into her chair, racking her brain for anything else she could say. It wasn¡¯t like she hadn¡¯t spent months writing and rewriting her college application until it met her, and her parents¡¯, exacting standards, but how much of that could be applied in an interview to become a pirate?


    ¡°Right, so, let¡¯s see¡­ I¡¯m eighteen, and I just recently graduated with high honors from Dakota High School. I was a member of the student council, the swim team, and the chess club. I have never received an academic suspension and I won the perfect attendance award three years running. I like to think that I am studious, observant, self reliant and p-punctual, and¡­ I¡­¡±


    Morgan trailed off as she saw the look of confusion on Red Molly¡¯s face only grow as she went on, feeling with certainty that she was bombing this interview. It didn¡¯t help that she knew for a fact how many of those statements were misleading half-truths. She had been a member of the student council, until the incident with Mandy, and she absolutely hated chess. The only reason she hadn¡¯t been suspended after that same incident was due to her parents pulling strings at the school, and similarly, perfect attendance was hardly an achievement when it was her parents making certain she never missed a single day of school no matter what. The only completely true statement was that she was, in fact, on the swim team.


    ¡°Poppy,¡± Red Molly said after a few moments of tense silence, broken only by the faint creaking of the ship around them. ¡°How much of that did you get?¡±


    ¡°That miss Morgan is eighteen, Captain,¡± Poppy answered, also regarding Morgan with a curious stare. ¡°And possibly a student of some academy, a very strange one at that.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, sorry, forget I said any of that,¡± Morgan said, shaking her head and waving her hands in front of her. With a sigh, she rubbed her forehead and glanced at Poppy, still holding the uncorked bottle in her hands. ¡°Actually, I¡¯ll take some of that wine now, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Wordlessly, Poppy retrieved the second metal cup, pouring out a markedly smaller amount and passing it to Morgan, who accepted it with a nod and a thanks. She stared into the cup, at the dark red, fragrant liquid inside, and steeled herself. As much as she wanted to try and drain the whole cup in one go, she knew that would only result in disaster, so she settled on taking a single timid sip.


    The wine was tart, very tart, and Morgan felt her lips wanting to pucker at the taste. Scrunching her face up, she swallowed hard, feeling the dry, fruity taste quickly give way to a burning aftertaste as the alcohol ran down her throat. It stung, but it also helped her clear her head, and she slammed the cup down onto the table beside her.


    ¡°Okay!¡± she began again, locking eyes with Red Molly. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you, but I know I don¡¯t have much to offer, the only thing I¡¯ve ever been good at is taking tests and swimming. I have never sailed on a ship before, I don¡¯t know the first thing about ropes or knots or sails or cannons. I have never stolen anything in my life and I¡¯ve never been in a physical fight, and honestly the thought of doing either of those things is kind of terrifying!¡±


    Morgan knew the volume of her voice was steadily creeping higher as she went on, but for once she was beyond caring. She grabbed the cup beside her and took another, longer sip, before springing to her feet.


    ¡°But that¡¯s exactly why I¡¯m here! I want to learn how to tie knots and fire a cannon! I want to learn how to fight, actually fight, so I can stand up for myself when someone tries to push me around, and maybe I want to take things that don¡¯t belong to me! I want to curse! I¡¯ve spent my whole life reading books and following rules and preparing for a future that doesn¡¯t even exist anymore, so now, if I say I want to be a pirate, then I¡¯m going to be a pirate, g-goddamnit!¡±


    Morgan cringed a little as she failed to stick the landing, and realized at some point that she¡¯d started to pace around the room as she ranted and raved. She turned back to her audience of two and drained the last of her wine, raising the cup as though to toss it in some random direction, but getting ahold of herself at the last moment and just placing it down on the table with a little extra force.


    Red Molly and Poppy shared looks of wide-eyed bemusement and mild shock, respectively. After draining her own cup, Red Molly rose to her feet, her black lips pulling apart into the widest grin Morgan had seen on her yet.


    ¡°Morgan Hunter, present yourself,¡± Red Molly said, standing with a hand on her hip.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡±


    Was she asking her to¡­


    Red Molly rolled her eyes. ¡°It means c¡¯mere,¡± she said, waving Morgan closer with her free hand.


    Oh, thank goodness¡­


    Morgan nodded, hurrying to stand in front of the captain at as close to attention as she could while clutching a cloak around her body.


    ¡°Well, I have to say, that was quite a presentation,¡± Red Molly began, extending her cup towards Poppy, who filled it while the captain continued. ¡°First, some of the most fluent gibberish I¡¯ve ever heard, the likes of which I haven¡¯t encountered since the last time I crossed swords with Admiral Massimo, and then, a passionate confession of utter uselessness. You are, by your own admission, one of the least qualified persons to ever board my ship, and I¡¯ve taken actual children on board.¡±


    Morgan furrowed her brow as Red Molly paused to take another unnecessarily long sip of wine. Her words were harsh, and entirely at odds with the way she said them; with a broad, enthusiastic smile and a hint of laughter in her tone. After she swallowed, Red Molly¡¯s head turned, looking somewhere over Morgan¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Oh, hold on, Mav, I¡¯m getting to it! Tides take you, woman, it¡¯s called buildup!¡± she shouted into the empty air before fixing her eyes back on Morgan¡¯s own. ¡°Anyway, what I mean to say is, even a lump of mithril is useless without the fires of the forge and the skilled hands of the blacksmith.¡±


    ¡°Technically, even unrefined mithril has many uses,¡± Poppy offered from behind. Red Molly shot her a withering glare, but it was gone in a flash and she once again beamed at Morgan.


    ¡°Anyway, what I¡¯m sayin¡¯ is, it¡¯ll take a lot of work, hard work, backbreaking work that¡¯ll leave you sore and bruised and wishin¡¯ you¡¯d never crawled out of the ocean in the first place, but if you¡¯re willin¡¯ to swear the oath and put in that work, then I think we just might have room for you aboard our ship.¡±


    Red Molly finished with a flourish, knocking back her cup and draining it. Unlike Morgan, she did toss the empty cup into a far corner of the room, where it clattered noisily. Behind her, Poppy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, but Red Molly just grinned her sharp-toothed grin and stuck a hand out towards Morgan.


    ¡°What¡¯d¡¯ya say?¡±


    ¡ö ¡ö


    Contrary to what Morgan expected, just simply shaking Red Molly¡¯s offered hand did not instantly make her a full-fledged pirate. She would still have to ¡°swear the oath¡± before she was officially accepted, which was apparently something of a small ceremony that would have to be carried out in front of the whole crew. Since the entire crew was already gathered in the mess hall, awaiting a late supper from Balthazar, Red Molly decided it would make for perfect timing to carry out the ceremony then and there, and sent Morgan off with Poppy to find her some clothes while the captain gathered the items she would need.


    ¡°And these are my quarters,¡± Poppy explained, opening the door ahead and leading Morgan in. The room was located on the mid-deck, situated right under the captain¡¯s cabin in fact, and almost as large. But Morgan saw that the extra space was not devoted to luxury, as with Red Molly¡¯s cabin, but to turning the room into a combination sick bay and laboratory of sorts. There were four sturdy cots recessed into one wall, a long table that held an impressive array of what appeared to be chemistry equipment, as well as a tall cabinet with shelves stocked full of glass vials and jars containing innumerable liquids, powders, and, in some cases, entire body parts from what Morgan hoped were animals. There were even a pair of window boxes situated under a row of portholes, the moonlight from overhead shining down and causing a few of the plants they held to give off a faint blue glow.


    ¡°Woooow¡­¡± Morgan breathed, taking in not just the sights, but the smells of the room. It reminded her of walking through the garden section of a home improvement store, the air heavy with moisture and a faint chemical tinge, similar to the one Poppy gave off. ¡°This is really nice.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Poppy said, and to Morgan¡¯s delight, she said it with a pleased smile clear on her face. This was, Morgan figured, possibly the place Poppy felt most comfortable, allowing her to relax from her usual buttoned-up state.


    ¡°Is that where you concoct your poisons?¡± Morgan asked, pointing towards the array of glass beakers, vials, and tubes on the table.


    ¡°I do not only make poisons,¡± Poppy said with a bit of a frown. ¡°But, yes, this is my alchemy equipment. Captain Molly has gone to great lengths to procure all of this for me, and I am quite grateful to her for that.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Morgan said, taking a moment to move past the word ¡°alchemy.¡± Although alchemy, in her world, was currently thought of as nonsense and fiction, it had been treated like an actual science for much of history, but given all she¡¯d seen so far, she was fully ready to believe that potions and magic were real, tangible parts of this world.


    ¡°I can see how having an alchemist on board would be really useful, yeah,¡± Morgan said after a moment, pretending like she had any idea what she was talking about. ¡°So, uh, about those clothes?¡±


    ¡°Ah, of course, my apologies,¡± Poppy said, momentarily slipping back into her usual stiff self as she pivoted and knelt before a large trunk containing several neatly folded piles of cloth. She quickly selected a few items and stood, holding them out to Morgan. ¡°These are tailored for shark-kin, they should fit you.¡±


    Shark-kin? Is that what I am now?


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Morgan said, accepting the stack with a smile. She was about to throw off the cloak and begin dressing, but paused, as Poppy was still just standing there, looking expectantly at her. ¡°Uhh¡­¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Poppy said, turning her back to Morgan to give her a hint of privacy.


    Sighing with relief, Morgan unslung the cloak from her shoulders and held up the clothes she¡¯d been given. It was a simple shirt and a pair of pants, both in shades of green, and both oddly crafted in ways she initially couldn¡¯t understand. The shirt had a high collar, almost no sleeves, a huge hole in the back and long slits up both sides. Morgan realized why as soon as she pulled it over her shoulders; it was made to accommodate her back fin, with the side slits allowing her to actually get the shirt on over it, with two rows of cloth strips so she could tie them closed once she did. Similarly, the pants had a large segment cut out from the seat to accommodate her tail, with two longer strips of cloth Morgan initially couldn¡¯t puzzle out the use for. Eventually, she figured out they were meant to be wrapped around, under, and then over the tail before being tied in place, which then left one last set of laces in the front to pull the whole thing tight against her hips.


    ¡°Interesting¡­¡± Morgan muttered to herself as she finished tying the last knot in place. Like the chairs in Red Molly¡¯s cabin having extra room for her tail, these clothes were clearly made for someone with a fin and tail just like hers, further solidifying the fact that she was not a member of some mythical undersea race of sea creatures, but just another type of person who happened to be part shark.


    ¡°Did you say something?¡± Poppy asked, and Morgan jumped, clearing her throat.


    ¡°Ah, no, no, it was nothing¡­ Actually, I was kind of curious, why do you have so many clothes in your room?¡± Morgan asked. She also wanted to ask why the leech girl herself didn¡¯t wear any of them, but that seemed kind of rude.


    ¡°It is wise to have spare clothing on hand, especially when injuries are common and surgery is frequently required. The integrity of a crew member¡¯s clothing is not considered when I am attempting to save their life, so I¡¯ve taken to having replacements on hand,¡± Poppy explained, and Morgan couldn¡¯t help but stare in awe at her back while she talked so cooly and casually about saving people from life threatening injuries.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Morgan said, a little dumbstruck, then remembered where she was and what she was doing, and cleared her throat, making a few last minute adjustments to her new clothes. ¡°Uh, well, I¡¯m finished now, you can turn back around.¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Poppy turned and Morgan, a little belatedly, tried to adopt a pose that she felt would suit her new attire well. She put her hands on her hips, threw her shoulders back, and held her head up high, hoping she looked half as impressive and pirate-y as she felt.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Poppy¡¯s only response was a quiet hum as she stepped closer and tilted her head this way and that, clearly checking how the clothes fit on Morgan but hardly acknowledging Morgan herself. Which, Morgan mused, was fine, she didn¡¯t need it to be anything other than that, but it would have been nice if the other girl had shown some kind of reaction.


    ¡°So, uh, if you¡¯re the doctor, I guess you¡¯ve examined a lot of bodies then?¡± Morgan asked, her mouth getting ahead of her brain for once.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Came Poppy¡¯s simple reply.


    ¡°How does mine compare then?¡± Morgan asked, and when Poppy¡¯s eyes met hers she tried to smile casually, unsure of how good a job she could do when her mouth was full of so many razor sharp teeth.


    Poppy stared back at her for a long time, her red eyes traveling up and down as she, for the first time Morgan suspected, took in Morgan¡¯s appearance itself, not just her new attire. Slowly, her brow became furrowed. She opened her mouth, then closed it again a second later, then opened it once more before bringing a hand to it and clamping down tightly.


    ¡°Uh¡­ Poppy?¡± Morgan asked hesitantly, unsure if Poppy was just having a hard time thinking of what to say, or if something was actually wrong. She had wanted to impress the other girl but now she was worried she¡¯d done something wrong, asking so forward a question.


    Without a word, Poppy turned on her heels, facing entirely away from Morgan to stare at the back wall of her room.


    ¡°You look¡­ the clothes fit you quite well¡­ they are¡­ very striking,¡± Poppy explained haltingly, crossing her arms behind her back and clasping her hands together. Her voice had gone flat again, and Morgan began to feel disheartened.


    Oh, geez, I¡¯m making her uncomfortable in her own room¡­


    ¡°Well then, we should be going now, the others are waiting,¡± Poppy said.


    ¡°R-right,¡± Morgan said, her shoulders drooping. She waited, but Poppy made no move to turn around. ¡°Uuuh¡­¡±


    ¡°I have¡­ something I must see to,¡± Poppy said, and Morgan saw her clutching her own hands even tighter behind her back. Her tail, Morgan noted, was curled tightly around one of her legs. ¡°If you would¡­ please¡­ wait for me outside, I will be but a few moments.¡±


    ¡°Uh, okay¡­¡± Morgan said, feeling faintly lightheaded. She wasn¡¯t sure if the single small cup of wine she¡¯d had was enough to seriously effect her, but she was definitely beginning to feel overly warm despite the suddenly chill atmosphere in the room, so she quickly turned and strode for the door. Behind her, Poppy continued to stand, statue-like, staring at the opposite wall.


    Closing the door behind her, Morgan let herself rest against the wall of the corridor next to it, letting out a sigh.


    ¡°What was that about¡­¡± she muttered to herself. Behind her, she could faintly hear Poppy beginning to move again through the walls. She wanted to believe that Poppy really had remembered something urgent she needed to take care of, but she couldn¡¯t help but come to the more realistic conclusion that she had done something to upset the leech girl. She just wished she knew what had set her off¡­


    ¡°Sooooo, this is the new recruit?¡±


    A new voice in the hall broke Morgan out of her thoughts and made her jump. She looked frantically from left to right, searching for the speaker, before directing her gaze lower, finding¡­


    ¡°Ah!¡± Morgan yelped, stepping back instinctually, and immediately feeling guilty for doing so. The figure who had appeared before her was short, about four feet tall by Morgan¡¯s estimate, only coming up to about her waist, and he appeared to be some kind of rat man. He had messy black hair that was slicked back on his head, and two large, round ears covered in black fur. Despite being so short, he had the face of a man in his thirties, with a neatly trimmed little beard that stuck out from his chin in a sharp point. Morgan could see a thin, pink-skinned tail waving in the air behind him, and as he grinned up at her, she saw that he had quite prominent front teeth, though one of them appeared to be made of gold.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t see you there!¡± Morgan hastily explained, then winced, as she had been on the receiving end of exactly that phrase, with much less sincerity, many times, but the short man didn¡¯t seem to mind in the slightest.


    ¡°Of course you didn¡¯t, I didn¡¯t want you to see me,¡± the man said, chuckling and taking a few skipping steps backwards. Morgan saw that he wore a loose and overly showy shirt that was left unbuttoned almost to his navel, and a pair of snug black tights that wrapped around his bare, clawed feet, reminding her of the ballet leggings she¡¯d seen some of the girls at school wearing. Slung across the man¡¯s back was some kind of stringed instrument, a mandolin if Morgan remembered correctly.


    ¡°I see,¡± Morgan said, feeling her heart rate settle again, and remembering the question the man had asked before startling her. ¡°Yes, I am, er, I will be the new recruit, my name is Morgan.¡±


    ¡°Kazrat, call me Kaz,¡± he replied, lifting one of his legs off the ground, balancing on the other while dipping into a bow.


    ¡°You must be the ship¡¯s musician, then?¡± Morgan asked, and Kaz chuckled.


    ¡°Nae, I¡¯m the master-at-arms,¡± he replied, obviously joking, and his tail moved behind him, the narrow tip plucking one of the strings of his mandolin. ¡°Aye, musician, bard, story-teller, jester, I does it all!¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Morgan asked, tilting her head. ¡°Is that all you do?¡±


    ¡°Well, these hands o¡¯mine are a great deal more valuable than those of the common swabbie, so ¡®tis only fair I don¡¯t have to risk them fighting or lifting anything particularly heavy¡­¡± Kaz explained, holding up one of his hands and exaggeratedly inspecting it. Morgan saw that, like his feet, his hands were tipped with tiny black claws.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Morgan said, pouring on as much sarcasm as she could. She recalled from some book or another that entertainment on ships had been in high demand, to help pass the time during long stretches out at sea, and to keep morale up, so she wasn¡¯t at all surprised that this ship had a dedicated musician. What was surprising was that he did not seem to have been taken captive and press ganged into performing for free, but was considered a part of the crew, and one that was apparently exempt from the harsher duties of pirate life. She wondered if that was just standard practice in this world, another of Red Molly¡¯s quirks, or if Kaz was simply a very shrewd negotiator.


    Beside her, the door to Poppy¡¯s quarters opened, and Morgan moved back to make room as she stepped out into the hall, once again wreathed in her dark cloak. Her movements were smooth and her face was a mask of indifference, showing no signs of her earlier agitation.


    ¡°I apologize for the delay,¡± Poppy said immediately, not quite meeting Morgan¡¯s eyes when she turned her head.


    ¡°It¡¯s, uh, it¡¯s fine, really,¡± Morgan said, waving her hand dismissively. As much as she valued being honest and forthcoming, now was not the time. She could ask Poppy what had happened another time. The leech girl clearly had some difficulties when it came to expressing, or not expressing her emotions, depending on the situation, and Morgan didn¡¯t want to cause her any more stress than she already had.


    Poppy bowed her head in thanks, then turned, peering down at Kaz, who had been watching on with keen eyed interest.


    ¡°Good evening, Musiker Kaz. Is there something you need?¡± Poppy asked, and Morgan thought perhaps her tone was a bit colder than usual.


    ¡°Nae, I¡¯m just peachy, thank ye,¡± Kaz replied, already starting to walk backwards down the hall. ¡°Jes¡¯ wanted to give my own personal greetin¡¯ to our newest recruit. I¡¯ll go on ahead and leave you two to it, but don¡¯t dally now. I¡¯m hungry, and Captain said we¡¯re not eatin¡¯ until the oathtaking is finished!¡±


    With that, he spun nimbly on his heels and all but skipped down the hall, disappearing through another doorway shortly and leaving the pair alone once more.


    ¡°He¡¯s¡­ interesting,¡± Morgan said, after a moment of tense silence.


    ¡°I do not like him,¡± Poppy said plainly and bluntly, in a way Morgan was quickly growing accustomed to. ¡°He enjoys making a nuisance of himself, even more than Chef Balthazar, despite not being nearly as irreplaceable.¡± Poppy sighed and began to walk, leading Morgan away from her room and towards the mess hall, where she knew the rest of the crew would be waiting. ¡°Unfortunately, his claims of being one of the best musicians on the sea are not mere boasts; he is quite good.¡±


    ¡°Well, you know how it is with rock stars¡­¡± Morgan said, chuckling nervously.


    ¡°I¡­ do not, no, what does that mean?¡± Poppy asked, glancing at Morgan as they turned a corner.


    ¡°Oh, uh, nothing, it was just a joke that doesn¡¯t make sense here, nevermind,¡± Morgan said, shaking her head. Poppy didn¡¯t look satisfied with that as an answer, but didn¡¯t press.


    ¡°So, uhm¡­¡± Morgan began, slowing her walking a little. ¡°How are the rest of the crew? Are they¡­ nice?¡±


    Was that a stupid question? It felt like a stupid question, they were pirates, they robbed, and possibly killed people, for a living. As much as Morgan wanted to romanticize it, that was still an unavoidable fact, and she couldn¡¯t help but worry about what types of people a job like that attracted. Then again, it had attracted her as well, hadn¡¯t it?


    Poppy¡¯s answer came as something of a pleasant surprise, however.


    ¡°Nice? Well, if you are asking if they will be kind to you, then, yes,¡± Poppy said, having stopped entirely, sensing Morgan¡¯s hesitation. ¡°Once you swear the oath, you will become a part of the crew, and though we may sometimes squabble, the crew looks after its own. Should you ever feel as though you are being slighted, you should not hesitate to inform one of the officers, or Captain Molly even. Disharmony sinks ships, as they say.¡±


    Huh¡­


    That sounded a whole lot like the speeches about bullying delivered by unconvincingly-sympathetic public speakers that the school brought in any time there was an incident, but much, much more genuine. To hear Poppy tell it, if Morgan ever found herself having a serious issue aboard the ship, she would be fully allowed, even expected, to voice her concerns to those in charge, and could expect to actually see something done about it.


    Did she really believe that? She was hopeful, sure, but it was still too early to be certain.


    Still, it was such a refreshing outlook that Morgan almost wanted to pinch herself a few more times, just to make sure she still wasn¡¯t dreaming.


    ¡°Does that assuage your fears?¡± Poppy asked when Morgan didn¡¯t reply, and she nodded her head quickly.


    ¡°Y-yes, yes it does, very much so, I was just surprised,¡± Morgan answered, picking up her feet and resuming their walk, a little more casually now. ¡°Is that how all pirate ships operate?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Poppy replied at once. ¡°To call yourself a pirate is to join a covenant that pledges itself to¡­ well, the oath will explain it, but, yes, since the days when the very first pirates cast off the Empire¡¯s chains, it has always been our way to band together and ensure the sea will never fall to tyrants.¡±


    ¡°Wow¡­¡± Morgan whispered, entranced by the sudden fervor she heard in Poppy¡¯s voice, that not even her cool demeanor could hide. She¡¯d suspected it ever since observing Captain Silas¡¯ overly mild, then outright friendly reaction to being boarded by pirates, but that had been the most conclusive evidence yet that as far as this world was concerned, the word ¡°pirate¡± meant something completely different. It also helped to blow away the last lingering vestiges of doubt that Morgan had been clinging to. As the pair approached the door to the mess hall, the air began to fill with muffled chatter and the tangy smell of seafood being cooked, making the empty pit in Morgan¡¯s stomach clench tightly. She paused just outside the door and took a deep breath, standing with her back straight and her head held high.


    She did have to lower it again though, as at her height, she was just slightly too tall for the door, so she had to duck slightly to follow Poppy inside.


    The mess hall¡ªOr, since we¡¯re on a ship, is it just called ¡°the mess?¡±¡ªwas one of the largest rooms Morgan had seen on the ship, big enough that she suspected it took up a whole third of the second deck. Both walls were lined with a row of six tables with benches on either side that, upon closer inspection, were attached to the walls beside them by a simple hinged mechanism, allowing them to be flipped up into a waiting alcove and stored away when not in use. Which was, Morgan mused, oddly practical for a pirate ship, but then she had to wonder if this had always been a pirate ship.


    The arrangement of the tables left a corridor of empty space in the middle of the room, creating the illusion of some kind of grand entrance or runway, which was helped by the twin rows of evenly-spaced support columns on either side of the gap. As she looked around the room, Morgan counted the number of those seated at each table and how many of the tables were filled, and what had initially felt like an infinite sea of faces was revealed to be, in fact, just a small crowd of about fifty people. As they quieted and stared at her, she stared back, noting that many of the people she saw had obvious fish-like features, same as her; fins, tails, scales, and gills, as well as skin that featured oddly familiar patterns, like those of sea life Morgan was certain she¡¯d glanced at in passing during one of the school¡¯s regular aquarium field trips. She saw a large, crimson-skinned woman whose body seemed to be partially covered by segments of chitinous armor, as well as several smaller figures seated around her with similar shell-like growths in shades of deep purple. She saw another woman with an even more outlandish appearance who seemed to be some kind of bipedal cephalopod, seated next to a man with large brown and black feathered wings and talons instead of feet. She saw more elves, more strange mushroom-covered people like Balthazar, and even a hulking man with tanned skin and large black horns like a bull. It was such an eclectic spread of fantastical races that the sight of an actual human was somehow the most surprising thing.


    He was, well, a normal human man, somewhat on the buff side, with dark hair, standing against the far wall, leaning back with his arms crossed and speaking to a fishy looking man with green and black scales. He caught Morgan staring his way, and smiled at her, giving her a polite nod before turning back to his conversation.


    ¡°There you are!¡±


    And, of course, standing in the middle of the rows, once again decked out in her full captain¡¯s garb, coat and hat included, was Red Molly, who beckoned Morgan closer with her hand. She¡¯d done her best to steady her nerves, thankful that the crowd she¡¯d soon be performing some sort of pirate ritual in front of wasn¡¯t very large. She didn¡¯t think she could fall back on the old standby of picturing everyone naked, since she could hardly imagine what some of the more unusual figures that made up the crew even looked like without clothes.


    Except Poppy, she reminded herself, then immediately tried to un-remind herself.


    ¡°Huh, is the wine gettin¡¯ to you?¡± Red Molly asked, misdiagnosing the source of Morgan¡¯s suddenly reddening cheeks.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she answered without hesitation. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Nodding, Red Molly led her the rest of the way to the empty space at the head of the tables. Beyond that, she could see through a wide window into the adjoining room, where Balthazar and a few other figures toiled away in what was evidently the galley.


    ¡°Well, good, I¡¯d like to get this underway quick. Whatever Balthazar is doing to those crabs smells good enough that I¡¯m worried the crew¡¯ll mutiny if I delay dinner much longer,¡± Red Molly said, standing opposite Morgan while, behind her, she spotted Poppy, having reappeared with a large scroll in her hands.


    ¡°She¡¯s right!¡± a voice from the crowd shouted, earning a round of good natured chuckles from the whole room, which only made Red Molly beam even brighter.


    ¡°Alright, alright, settle down you lot,¡± she eventually said, plunging the room back into a silence that bordered on reverence. Her demeanor shifted, and the cocky, almost manic smile slipped from her face, and in a moment, Red Molly resembled the fearsome pirate captain Morgan knew she truly was.


    ¡°State your name,¡± Red Molly commanded, and Morgan¡¯s already stiff back straightened out even more as she replied.


    ¡°Morgan Hunter,¡± Morgan said, which caused a brief susurration to run through the crew, before Red Molly silenced it with a sidelong glance.


    Wordlessly, Poppy moved, passing the large scroll into Red Molly¡¯s hands. Fully unfurled, Morgan saw it was a sheet of coarse, sturdy-looking paper, about the size of a poster, with signs of wear and age evident along its edges. Clearing her throat, Red Molly began to read.


    ¡°Do you, Morgan Hunter, swear to pledge yourself from this day forward to service aboard this ship, The Red Tide, and all that it entails; To follow the orders of its captain and officers to the best of your abilities, to consider her and her crew as your kith and kin, and to never knowingly bring harm to either, for as long as you shall serve?¡±


    Red Molly looked up expectantly, and Morgan realized that was her cue.


    ¡°I do!¡± she answered, perhaps a little over-enthusiastically.


    ¡°Do you swear to uphold the tenets of the free peoples of the sea, as set forth by the First Fellowship of Pirates and the Council of Crassus; To suffer not the tyrant, the hoarder, the extortioner, the unjust, and consider them your mortal enemy? To take from those whose wealth outstrips their needs, to humble those who flaunt their ill-gotten gains, and to render swift aid to those who suffer under their chains, for as long as you shall serve?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ do,¡± Morgan answered again, at a more reasonable volume. While she had expected the contents of the first oath, the second surprised her. So, it really was true, to be a pirate in this world was not to be a lawless bandit of the sea, pillaging and plundering any and all without remorse, but rather, to stand against and take from those who abused their power over others.


    ¡°And, finally, the third oath, the oath that is individual to each captain and, in my opinion, the most important,¡± Red Molly said, her stance relaxing somewhat, her familiar sawtooth grin returning.


    Morgan nodded, taking a deep breath and preparing herself. If she understood that right, these would be Red Molly¡¯s own personal tenets, the most important things to her, and Morgan was determined to give them the respect they deserved.


    ¡°Do you swear to not be as stuffy and boring as the rest of the shit on this list, to live your life to the absolute maximum, to use your time aboard my ship to forge a tale worth telling, and, lastly, do you swear to never cheat at cards and not to drink the last of my good wines if I¡¯ve already passed out, for as long as you shall serve?¡±


    After that last line, and before Morgan could answer, Red Molly turned her head to the side, speaking in the same way she did when she was talking to her sword, ¡°Mavis.¡±


    ¡°And yes, I did add that line just because of you.¡±


    Morgan stared at the woman who, for all intents and purposes, was already her captain, her brain momentarily shorting out at the jarring shift in tone between the first two oaths and the last, and another display of Red Molly¡¯s questionable sanity. She wasn¡¯t sure how it worked, but she was pretty sure she couldn¡¯t back out now, since she¡¯d already sworn two out of three. While the first two had been easy to agree to, speaking surprisingly strongly to Morgan¡¯s own personal sense of right and wrong, the third had her hesitating. Could she honestly say she was going to be able to live her life ¡°to the maximum¡± when she¡¯d never done so before? Was she even capable of doing anything that people would bother to tell stories about? She didn¡¯t know.


    But she sure as hell wanted to find out.


    ¡°I do,¡± Morgan answered, her voice firm as iron.


    ¡°Splendid,¡± Red Molly replied, grinning wider, and flipped the paper around. Morgan saw, in large sprawling text, the oaths she''d just sworn taking up most of the page, the first two in neatly ordered rows, the third in a much sloppier scrawl, and below that some kind of circular sigil about as wide across as her hand. ¡°Now, you just need to apply your blood to the seal, here, give me your thumb.¡±


    Morgan froze, her eyes going wide. Partially because of the casual implication that she''d be signing this contract in blood, but she''d almost been expecting something like that. No, she hesitated because the knife that Red Molly produced with a flick of her wrist was very visibly stained with blood.


    ¡°No!¡± Morgan yelped, clutching both her hands against her chest. Red Molly''s eyes narrowed, and Morgan heard mutterings spread throughout the room behind her, so she hastily explained, pointing. ¡°No, I mean, not with that knife, it''s covered in blood! That''s unsanitary!¡±


    ¡°What, this?¡± Red Molly asked innocently, tilting the knife and inspecting the blade. Then, she stuck her tongue out, and dragged it across the flat of the blade. Morgan recoiled while Red Molly grinned. ¡°It''s just juice, from the heart-fruits. This is my fruit knife.¡±


    ¡°T-that does not make it better!¡± Morgan sputtered, her exasperation mounting. Sighing, she looked at her hands, clenching them tight, then raised her left hand towards her mouth, using one of her many new sharp teeth to puncture the pad of her thumb.


    ¡°Ow¡­¡± she hissed, despite expecting the pain. Holding her thumb up, she squeezed the sides until a fat red blob of blood had formed, then pressed it to the center of the circle.


    With startling speed, several things happened in rapid succession. The sigil lit up with a bright inner glow, Red Molly removed her hand from the top of the page, and the whole thing began to burn from the outer edges inward. Morgan tried to pull her arm away, but found the limb unable to move, like she was trapped in an impossible strong handshake with an invisible force. The glow spread up from the circle, reaching the inked words and causing them to take on a light of their own, even as the page burned out from under them, leaving them hanging in the empty air. Then, the words melted into the smoke that wafted around her, swirling faster and faster before diving for her still outstretched hand, disappearing into her body through the small wound in her thumb. Morgan wasn''t sure how, but she could feel them, the words, traveling up her arm and settling somewhere in her chest, her very core. With that, the spell was broken, and she drew her hand back, placing it over her chest, where her heart hammered ferociously.


    All around her, the crew ¡ª no, her fellow crew members ¡ª exploded into rowdy cheers and raucous applause. A hand fell on her shoulder and she raised her head, meeting Red Molly¡¯s shining pink eyes and madwoman''s grin.


    ¡°Welcome aboard, lass,¡± she said quietly, only for Morgan to hear, then raised her voice and shouted to the room, ¡°Now let''s eat!¡±


    Morgan was quickly shuffled out of the way and Balthazar burst forth from the galley, flanked by a small crowd of other crew members, all bearing serving dishes piled high with food. There were skewers of roasted red and yellow peppers, onions, and mushrooms, there were buckets out of which poked dozens of crab legs arranged like a grisly bouquet, and a wide tray bearing two perfectly-cooked filets from a fish that was longer than Morgan¡¯s arm. And, finally, the much anticipated crab cakes, a tray full of little golden-brown pucks stacked up in the vague shape of a pyramid, steam lifting off them and filling the air with the mouth-watering scents of fried batter and crab. All these were placed side by side on a waist-high countertop built into the far wall, followed soon after by stacks of wooden plates, wooden mugs, and buckets of mismatched cutlery.


    As Morgan watched on, still not fully recovered from¡­ doing magic? Or having magic done on her? Whatever that had been, Morgan had not yet finished processing it when she saw the pirates forming a long, only slightly disordered line in front of the countertop, filling their plates before returning to their seats.


    ¡°Huh¡­ buffet style¡­¡± she spoke distantly, mostly to herself, and couldn''t help but laugh. Something moved at her side, and suddenly Poppy was standing beside her, facing forward.


    ¡°What is so funny?¡± Poppy asked.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing,¡± Morgan said, shaking her head, finally letting her arms drop to her sides. The wound on her thumb was gone, and her heart rate had returned to normal. Now that it was over and done with, and the room was rapidly filling up with the mouth-watering aromas of the meals Balthazar had prepared for the crew, Morgan realized just how hungry she was after all that swimming. She was actually kind of surprised she wasn¡¯t hungrier, considering her new body technically hadn¡¯t ever eaten anything before. Her stomach rumbled like the growling of some terrible beast, and, beside her, Poppy¡¯s flat mouth twitched up into a tiny, but unmistakable smile.


    ¡°Come, we should get in line,¡± Poppy said, motioning for Morgan to follow. It was probably Morgan¡¯s imagination, but it seemed as though Poppy¡¯s cold attitude from her earlier bout of irritation had completely dissipated, and she even seemed to be somewhat happy.


    Wishful thinking, she¡¯s probably just excited about the food, Morgan thought, moving to follow the other girl.


    They fell in at the back of the line, moving quickly through it until it was Morgan¡¯s turn. As hungry as she was, she wasn¡¯t worried about overestimating her appetite, and grabbed a bit of everything.


    In addition to the food, several large barrels had also been brought out and arranged on stands next to the counter, with spigots inserted. The barrels had their contents burned into the wood, and Morgan knew well enough to avoid any of the alcohols; the single cup of wine earlier had been more than enough for her for one night, but she was delighted to see a barrel marked ¡°lemonade,¡± and quickly filled her cup with the pale, lemon-scented liquid.


    Predictably, Poppy did not look for a seat amongst the other already-eating pirates, but made her way towards one of the few entirely empty tables. She didn''t say anything as Morgan continued to follow her, nor did she protest when she settled onto the bench beside her, and Morgan took that as something of a good sign. She was still eager to get to know more about the mysterious and fascinating leech girl, but first she needed to eat.


    She tried one of the skewers first, marveling at the lightly charred vegetables; the peppers and onions had a pleasant amount of snap to them, with the peppers tasting mild and bright, while the onions were surprisingly sweet. The mushrooms were crisp on the outside and tender on the inside, filling Morgan¡¯s mouth with juices as she bit down. All of them had also been coated with some kind of fragrant oil or vinegar that gave them a buttery aftertaste.


    Next, she lifted one of the monstrous crab legs and easily snapped it open, exposing the tender flesh within. Whereas the vegetables had been good, the first bit of crab she filled her mouth with sent her reeling, the sweet, juicy meat melting on her tongue and making her head swim.


    ¡°Mmmmh! Oh my god, I¡¯ve never tasted crab like this¡­¡± Morgan muttered, uncaring that her mouth was full. She wanted nothing more than to devour the rest of the legs she had grabbed as well, but she remembered she had other dishes to try, and picked up her fork, using it to slice into the bit of the ruby-red fish filet. It was seared, its outside a brown crust flaked with herbs and spices, its edges a pale pink, while the inside oozed with juices, squeezed from the many thin bands of fat that Morgan couldn¡¯t stop staring at. If she thought the red tuna (as Captain Silas had called it) looked delicious, actually tasting it went above and beyond anything she¡¯d been expecting. Creamy, buttery, the mild herbs and the sting of a peculiar type of salt, it was all she could do to not drop her fork and fall on the slab of fish and rip into it with just her teeth and claws.


    Finally swallowing, she breathed heavily, and her eyes fell on the centerpiece of her meal, the little fried disk of crab and batter and only Balthazar knew what else. With trembling hand, she reached out and grabbed the crab cake by the edge, raising it to her mouth and taking half of it in one powerful chomp, feeling her eyes forced shut as her face crinkled up in pure bliss. The familiar flavor of the crab was there, but bolstered by the other ingredients, the batter tasting strongly of mustard and lime, intercut with crisp, watery celery, and a blend of spices that left her tongue practically tingling as she slowly worked her jaw.


    By the time Morgan managed to pry her eyes back open, she was met with the faces of the entire crew, all turned to face her, staring in silence, and she realized she may have been making a bit of a scene with how enthusiastically, and loudly, she¡¯d been enjoying her meal.


    ¡°By the tides, girl,¡± the woman with the red shell called, breaking the silence. ¡°If you get that ferocious just eatin¡¯ a meal, I can¡¯t wait to see what you¡¯re like in a fight.¡±


    Morgan flushed, and at first she thought the woman was mocking her, but then several of the crew made noises of agreement, nodding their heads or slamming their cups on the table. Morgan resisted the urge to shrink down in her seat, and instead chuckled along, baring her teeth at the crowd before going back to her meal.


    As she ate, a bit more slowly and carefully now, she pondered over what could have come over her. Sure, she liked seafood well enough, but nothing she¡¯d eaten on Earth had ever tasted that good, good enough to make her forget where she was, even for a moment. Some part of it could be chalked up to Balthazar¡¯s obviously exemplary cooking skills, but she suspected her new body was more to blame. She was, at least in part, a shark, a voracious predator that could and would consume any sea life it could, so there was no doubt she¡¯d find just about any seafood utterly delicious.


    All in all, that didn¡¯t seem like a downside at all. Just another perk, along with her newfound size and strength.


    Morgan finished her plate, then went back for seconds.


    After the food was gone, the drinks remained, and as the dishes were cleared away, the already celebratory atmosphere grew even more lively. Decks of cards and sets of dice were produced, and Kazrat hopped up onto a table, unslinging his mandolin and beginning to strum a jaunty tune, one that was picked up by a set of drums and a tambourine, both played by the cephalopod woman with tendrils for hair. The atmosphere shifted from ¡°dinner¡± to ¡°party,¡± and Morgan found herself making her way towards the exit. Surprisingly, no one stopped her, and, even more surprisingly, she was followed by Poppy. Pausing at the door that led out of the mess, they shared a glance, and Morgan tried to give her her best smile. Poppy stared back, eyes wide but impassive, then nodded at the door. Confused but not defeated, Morgan opened the door and together they slipped out while the pirates reveled behind them.


    (~~~)


    ¡°You don''t like parties either, huh?¡± Morgan asked as she followed Poppy through the mid-deck, letting her take the lead since she didn¡¯t actually know her way around the ship yet at all.


    ¡°I do not dislike celebrations in general,¡± Poppy replied, casting a glance back over her shoulder. ¡°But I am feeling somewhat out of sorts tonight, and would prefer to retreat somewhere¡­ quieter.¡±


    Of course she is, I should probably just let her get back to her room in peace.


    ¡°Ah, I can understand that,¡± Morgan said, chuckling a little to hide her conflicted thoughts. Morgan didn¡¯t often get invited to parties, and on the rare occasions that she did she would often have to excuse herself to an empty bedroom to cool down or, if she was lucky, play with the owner¡¯s cat, if they had one.


    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m amazed I managed as well as I did, having to stand up in front of everyone like that,¡± Morgan continued. She had her head down, and followed Poppy up the stairs she¡¯d led them to, not yet noticing where they¡¯d ended up. ¡°I¡¯m just glad I didn¡¯t have to give a speech or¡­ something¡­¡±


    Morgan trailed off as she felt the cool night air on her back, lifting her head and finding that they had emerged back onto the main deck. She continued to look up, and up, until she was almost bent over backwards, staring up at a sky so full of stars it momentarily took her breath away. Hearing footsteps on the wood, she lowered her eyes and found Poppy heading for the stairs that led up to the raised quarterdeck. She climbed until she was about halfway up, then stopped, taking a seat upon the steps.


    ¡°Are you not coming?¡± Poppy asked when she saw Morgan still frozen halfway off the other stairs where she¡¯d left her.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Morgan jumped slightly, realizing Poppy was inviting her to sit with her on the stairs. She hopped the rest of the way up onto the deck and then followed Poppy¡¯s lead, climbing the shorter staircase, one of two that flanked the door to Red Molly¡¯s cabin, settling down beside Poppy with her elbows on the steps above them and her feet resting on the steps below.


    ¡°Woah¡­¡± Morgan breathed as she took in the sights and sounds before her; the ship creaking as it ever so gently bobbed on the water, the wind whistling through the ropes and gently jostling the stowed sails, and the ocean slapping at the hull. But, above everything else, the sky demanded the most of her attention, sprawling out overhead for miles and miles in every direction, filled with more stars than Morgan had ever seen growing up in suburban Michigan.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Morgan whispered, suddenly feeling overcome with wonder. Everywhere she looked she saw something new and fascinating, from clusters of stars that were completely alien to her, to the fact that the moon that hung huge and bright in the sky was slightly pink.


    ¡°I wish I had my telescope with me¡­¡± Morgan sighed wistfully. Beside her, Poppy shifted, turning her head to look at her.


    ¡°Oh, are you an astromancer?¡± Poppy asked, her eyebrows raised, not bothering to hide the look of excitement on her face.


    ¡°W-what? No, no, uh, I just like stargazing,¡± Morgan said, and Poppy nodded, but she didn¡¯t seem disappointed. In fact, she seemed even more excited.


    ¡°Ah, that is perfect then, wait right there!¡± Poppy said, suddenly hopping to her feet, dropping down onto the deck and moving with purpose towards the ornate doors to the captain¡¯s cabin. Before Morgan even had time to ask if she was allowed to just go in there, Poppy had already disappeared inside, leaving her alone with her thoughts.


    Okay, now I¡¯m just confused. But it seems like she doesn¡¯t actually dislike being around me, right?


    Poppy emerged a few moments later cradling something shiny and cylindrical in her arms. With a smile on her face, she presented her prize to Morgan, revealing it to be a large collapsible telescope made of brightly polished brass.


    ¡°This should be sufficient. Captain Molly has a larger one, but it¡¯s somewhere in her bedroom, and I don¡¯t want to dig through the mess to find it,¡± Poppy said as she returned to her seat beside Morgan, extending the telescope with a series of staccato clicks before handing it to her.


    ¡°T-thank you!¡± Morgan said, finding Poppy¡¯s enthusiasm infectious. She raised the telescope to her eye and pointed it skyward, leaning further back on the stairs. After a moment, the stars swam into focus, and she couldn¡¯t stop a massive grin from spreading across her face.


    ¡°Amazing,¡± she said as she slowly swept her magnified gaze across the sky with no real goal in mind. It took only a cursory glance to know that she wouldn¡¯t find any familiar fixtures in this sky, but that just meant she could look at everything with fresh eyes.


    ¡°You said you enjoy stargazing for fun, how many of the constellations do you know?¡± Poppy asked after Morgan had had a few moments to gaze aimlessly. Morgan lowered the telescope to meet the other girl¡¯s eyes, her own growing wide.


    ¡°O-oh, uh, one or two, I¡­ couldn¡¯t ever remember all of them,¡± Morgan said, trying not to wince or break eye contact while delivering the lie. It was a bit of a blow to her pride to have to pretend not to know, but it was preferable to having to explain the truth just yet.


    ¡°I see,¡± Poppy said, cocking her head to the side and rubbing her chin. She glanced up at the stars, then back down at Morgan, a timid smile playing across her lips. ¡°Would you like me to refresh your memory?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes, I would love that!¡± Morgan replied immediately, and Poppy moved, sliding across the stairs to place herself closer to Morgan¡¯s side. Not too close, not close enough that their knees were touching or anything, but close enough.


    Poppy sat up straighter and cleared her throat, adopting a scholarly tone as she pointed upwards. ¡°Well, obviously the first and most important star to know, the Traveler¡¯s Lantern,¡± she said, aligning her pointing finger with Morgan¡¯s eyeline, directing it towards a point at the near center of the sky. ¡°It¡¯s that bright yellow star right there, and if you follow that string of three stars beside it, that leads to Farron, the Traveler.¡±


    Following Poppy''s directions, Morgan raised the telescope, tracing the three stars that formed what she guessed was the outstretched ¡°arm¡± of Farron as it led into a brighter cluster of five stars in roughly humanoid shape.


    ¡°Now, the reason it¡¯s so important to be able to locate the Lantern is because it can help you find your way if you¡¯re lost,¡± Poppy continued. ¡°If you look just above it, that bright red star there, that¡¯s the Traveler¡¯s Compass, the other half of the constellation, and if you combine it with the lantern it always points towards the north.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± Morgan said, shifting the telescope ever so slightly to spot the red star in question. That was a very helpful bit of information, if Morgan ever managed to find herself lost and separated from the crew. From her crew, she reminded herself.


    Morgan listened with rapt attention as Poppy explained over a dozen constellations, most of which corresponded to various deities. She learned of Farron¡¯s brother, Ferros, and the dome of stars that represented his forge and hammer. Right over there was Colin, the prankster, with a crescent string of stars representing his cunning smile, across from his rival Koura and her scales, which didn¡¯t represent justice, but rather trade and commerce. The music goddess Canto¡¯s signature lute intersected with the scholar god Vidya¡¯s quill, the latter of whom Poppy had paused to jokingly ask if Morgan had been blessed by when she was born.


    At least, Morgan assumed it was a joke, at first, but she began to have second thoughts the more Poppy expounded about the tapestry of stars overhead and the stories they told.


    These are beginning to sound less and less like myths of the past and more like facts and figures she believes actually exist and hold power over their given domains¡­


    Morgan began to feel conflicted as she listened, still gazing at the stars but looking past them as thought. She hadn¡¯t been raised in a particularly religious household, and had spent the entirety of her relatively short life putting exactly zero thought into whether there existed any form of higher power or afterlife, designating those as questions she could ponder ¡°later,¡± like after she graduated college, or figured out what career path she wanted to pursue.


    She supposed the joke was on her now, having died and wound up here, wherever here was. A fantastical world, with elves and fish people and pirates who swore oaths with magic, and which for all she knew might actually have an entire pantheon of verifiably extant gods that could inflict real, tangible change upon that very world.


    Heck, if they are real, maybe I could ask one of them if they know how I got here¡­


    ¡°Miss Morgan?¡±


    The voice, Poppy¡¯s voice, caused her to jerk back in surprise and realize she¡¯d been staring at the same star for almost a minute while spacing out. She lowered the telescope and rubbed at her eyes before turning to face Poppy.


    ¡°My apologies.¡± Poppy spoke before Morgan could explain herself. ¡°I was rambling, I¡¯m sure know all of this already from your High Academy, I will stop¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Morgan exclaimed, startling the frown right off of Poppy¡¯s face before it could even finish forming. Lowering her voice, but not her intensity, Morgan shook her head emphatically. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m the one who wasn¡¯t listening! I just got distracted by¡­ something else, but that¡¯s not important! S-sure, I¡¯ve heard some of these already, but I¡¯ve never heard them expounded upon so well before! I was really enjoying your lesson, so, uh, please continue!¡±


    ¡°O-oh,¡± Poppy said, visibly taken aback by Morgan¡¯s eagerness. So much so that, before Morgan¡¯s very eyes, her cheeks began to change color, turning from an oily black to a rosy pink that matched her irises.


    ¡°W-w-well, I would be h-happy to continue it, if you would like,¡± Poppy stammered while dropping her gaze to the floor, her tone wobbling almost as much as the corners of her mouth, which constantly threatened to curl up into a smile while she struggled to keep them straight.


    ¡°Y-yeah¡­¡± Morgan managed to choke out her response, averting her own eyes and looking up and away, so as not to wind up staring at Poppy again. ¡°Yeah, I would like that a lot. If you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°Certainly,¡± Poppy said, lifting her head again and inhaling deeply through her nose. ¡°Now, where was I?¡±


    ¡°Uh, Canto and Vidya?¡± Morgan offered. That was the last thing she remembered Poppy talking about, at least.


    ¡°Right, right, so, Viyda preferred to stay in his tower all day, doing his ¡®research,¡¯ although what he was researching is a matter of opinion, some stories say he wasn¡¯t recording facts but actually creating them, setting to paper the natural laws of the world, which is why there persist so many myths about his enchanted quill, are you familiar with those?¡±


    ¡°Uhm, only a few?¡± Morgan said, shrugging.


    ¡°Of course, of course, well, the most popular ones are that it can rewrite the laws of our world, which is why some have started to consider him a god of magic as well, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s as simple as that¡­ Oh, what was saying? Ah, right, Canto! So, Canto used to climb the trees that grew next to Vidya¡¯s tower and play music on her lute, though of course there¡¯s dispute over whether her magical instrument was a lute, or a lyre, or a flute, or if it wasn¡¯t an instrument at all and instead she only sang, but regardless¡­¡±


    Morgan reclined into the stairs again and smiled, watching as Poppy gestured excitedly and recounted the tale of a goddess of music charming a god of knowledge out of his secluded tower. She did her best to focus only on the story, but couldn¡¯t help getting drawn in by just how¡­ cute Poppy got when she was explaining something. Both her movements and expressions became more lively, and she spoke freely without sounding like she was forcing everything through a filter to sound as formal and polite as possible. Morgan still had no clue why she did that, and she knew better than to pry, but already she knew she much preferred this side of Poppy.


    ¡°...and that¡¯s why most mages are expected to learn to play an instrument, because of the¡­ ah, Morgan?¡±


    Morgan blinked. Oh, had she missed a question? No, she realized, she¡¯d been staring and shamelessly too. It must have looked like she¡¯d gotten distracted again!


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Morgan hastily blurted, turning away and casting her eyes back upon the night sky, the thing she was supposed to be staring at. She tried to form some kind of apology, to explain what she¡¯d been doing, when her eyes caught on a feature of the sky neither of them had noticed until now.


    Two spots of colored light, red and purple, one slightly ahead of the other, were slowly inching their way across the sky near the eastern horizon.


    ¡°Woah!¡± Morgan gasped, sitting forward in her seat and raising the telescope to get a better look. ¡°Comets! Two of them, and they¡¯re so bright, oh, you¡¯ve got to see this!¡±


    Poppy, predictably, also sat up straighter, her story and Morgan¡¯s distraction forgotten in the face of such an astronomical spectacle, eyes searching the sky in the direction Morgan was looking.


    ¡°Show me!¡± Poppy asked, but before Morgan could lower the telescope to hand it off, Poppy instead scooted across the last few inches that separated her and Morgan, pressing herself against Morgan¡¯s side and leaning in to peer through the eyepiece. One of her hands came up to the far end, ever so slightly adjusting the angle, and Morgan could feel Poppy¡¯s cool fingertips brushing against her own.


    Now, Morgan was the one who found her cheeks heating up, thankful that Poppy was too absorbed with taking in the sight of the twin comets to notice.


    ¡°Incredible,¡± Poppy said, her tone soft, almost reverent. ¡°I¡¯ve heard tales of comets like these but never thought to see one myself.¡±


    ¡°What kinds of tales?¡± Morgan prompted, having seen by now how eager Poppy got when she had facts to share and an audience to listen. A bit like herself, Morgan mused.


    ¡°Well, there are those that say they are omens, signals from the gods or other powers of some impending future event that will bring about great change. It has been noted that a few major historical events were said to have been preceded by the appearance of one or more of those oddly colored comets a number of years before. Some dispute whether or not that is true, claiming instead that the comets were always added later to increase the appeal of the tales.¡±


    Poppy leaned back from the telescope as she began another casual lecture, and if she noticed the redness in Morgan¡¯s cheeks, she did not comment on it.


    ¡°There are some that believe they hold no special significance, that they are simply a rare magical phenomenon caused by the buildup of certain types of mana in the upper atmosphere, or that they are evidence of some interaction occurring between the gods themselves in the plane above this one; opinions differ on whether it is a game or a more serious conflict. Others have posited that the comets themselves are powerful spirits, or messengers from the gods, descending to our world on an important mission from their divine masters.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Morgan said, her head spinning at the many and varied possibilities. She thought about offering her own ¡°opinion,¡± that comets were just big balls of ice, dust, and rocks that formed a visible atmosphere when buffeted by solar radiation and winds, but for all she knew, that wasn''t true at all.


    ¡°What do you think they are?¡± Morgan asked instead, partly to get ahead of Poppy asking her the very same question, and partly because she was genuinely curious.


    ¡°Me?¡± Poppy paused for a moment, touching a finger to her chin. She didn¡¯t look like she was struggling to come up with an answer, but more like she was hesitant to give one, her eyes suddenly scrutinizing Morgan more closely.


    Morgan, for her part, tried to look as unassuming and unflustered as possible, leaning casually on one elbow and even smiling.


    Poppy, coming to a decision in her head, shrugged her shoulders and let out a short laugh. ¡°I¡¯m not actually sure what I believe, I¡¯m afraid. I do believe the part about them preceding significant events to be true, there are enough corroborating historical records across different cultures to confirm at least a few of those cases true, but as for what they are, well¡­¡±


    Before Poppy could finish putting her thoughts into words, her eyes flicked towards the distant horizon again, and her brow furrowed.


    ¡°What?¡± Morgan asked, raising the telescope and quickly finding the two distant points of light. The purple one, the one that had been trailing behind, was now ahead of the red comet, which itself had lost much of its intensity, the glow surrounding its center flickering like a candle in the wind.


    Then, it winked out, and disappeared.


    ¡°...huh?¡±


    That was¡­ odd. Comets, as Morgan understood them, weren¡¯t supposed to just disappear like that. Depending on location, speed, and a lot of complex geometry that Morgan was too stunned to think about, they could remain visible from a planet¡¯s surface for anywhere from a couple of weeks to several months. Yet, no matter how hard she looked, only the purple comet remained.


    ¡°Is that¡­ supposed to happen?¡± Morgan asked, glancing quickly at Poppy. She didn¡¯t want to take her eyes off the remaining comet in case it also did something odd, like suddenly turning around and flying backwards, or doing loop-de-loops in the night¡¯s sky. Poppy looked just as confused as Morgan felt, and vaguely concerned as well.


    With her attention now firmly on the purple comet, Morgan saw the moment it came to a sudden and unmistakable stop before starting to flicker as well. A few seconds later, and it was gone as well.


    Well, they definitely weren¡¯t just big balls of ice then.


    For several moments, Morgan and Poppy sat in silence and stared at the spot where the pair of comets used to be.


    ¡°Well, I guess whatever they are, they got to where they were going,¡± Morgan said, chuckling.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Poppy said, her tone serious again. She had a hand on her chin and appeared to be deep in thought suddenly, mumbling to herself, ¡°In the east¡­ two of them even¡­ will have to know¡­¡±


    Morgan let her go on uninterrupted for a few moments before gently clearing her throat and asking, ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    Her voice seemed to snap Poppy back to the present, and she sat up straight, turning to face Morgan again.


    ¡°It is nothing,¡± Poppy said, shaking her head. ¡°Nothing that cannot wait until tomorrow, at least. My apologies, I hope I did not distress you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay,¡± Morgan said, shrugging and giving Poppy a small smile. ¡°I was just worried about you, you seemed upset. You said you were ¡®out of sorts¡¯ earlier so I wanted to make sure it hadn¡¯t gotten worse because of those comets or something.¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­ I did say that,¡± Poppy said, like she¡¯d forgotten whatever had had her feeling uncomfortable earlier until Morgan reminded her. She was worried that it would cause her poor mood to return, but Poppy dispelled those worries with a small, bashful smile. ¡°I am feeling much better now, actually, but thank you for your concern.¡±


    ¡°T-that¡¯s good!¡± Morgan said, immediately wanting to slap herself for being too enthusiastic. Reeling herself in, she played her exclamation off with a laugh and motioned up at the sky. ¡°Well thank you for the astronomy lesson, I really learned a lot. We should¡­ do this again sometime!¡±


    Ah, geez¡­ could you sound any more desperate?


    ¡°Of course!¡± Poppy replied in an instant with enthusiasm to mirror Morgan¡¯s own, her eyes so wide and bright Morgan thought she could see herself in them. ¡°If you¡¯re willing, I could teach you every star in the sky!¡±


    ¡°G-great!¡± Morgan said, suddenly grinning. She wanted to say more, to say she¡¯d love that, or to say something clever like ¡°It¡¯s a date!¡± Or, if she was being really bold, ¡°Okay, but I¡¯ll have a hard time keeping my eyes on the stars.¡±


    Instead, she looked down at the telescope she still held in her hands, collapsing it and holding it out to Poppy and hurriedly mumbling, ¡°Uh, here, I better give this back.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, thank you, I will have to return this,¡± Poppy said, her own smile receding a little as she accepted the brass cylinder, holding it in her lap. It might have just been Morgan¡¯s imagination, but she almost got the impression that Poppy herself also had more she wanted to say, or perhaps she had been waiting for Morgan to say something else and she¡¯d just disappointed her.


    Yeesh¡­


    Wincing at her own ineptitude, Morgan actually started to wish she had had something more to drink, something stronger, then maybe she¡¯d be able to say some of those lines she thought up in her head. Then again, if she¡¯d known ahead of time that this situation would be the end result of following Poppy up onto the deck, would she have even come in the first place? She wanted to say yes, but the logical part of her brain told her that was a lie.


    And therein lay the problem, Morgan mused. Earlier, she could have assumed Poppy¡¯s feelings towards her fell somewhere in the range of ¡°indifferent¡± to ¡°outright dislike,¡± based just on the few interactions they¡¯d had, especially that moment after Morgan had finished dressing. But then, she¡¯d gotten to see more of the leech girl behind the mask of formal professionalism she put on, and learned that she, in fact, had no problems at all interacting with Morgan. On the contrary, she seemed almost delighted at times to have Morgan to talk to, someone who shared her passion for knowledge and observing and dissecting and absorbing the world around her, so much so that it would be easy for Morgan to give into wishful thinking and just assume the girl was¡­ ¡°interested¡± in her. Horrifyingly, Morgan realized that even if that weren¡¯t true and she was misreading Poppy¡¯s reactions, she knew that Poppy herself was also too smart, too observant, not to notice Morgan¡¯s reactions in turn.


    So where did that leave the two of them? Two clever girls, each one smart enough to notice the ways the other blushed at something they¡¯d said or did, but both too shy, timid, unable, or unwilling to say anything about it, to make the first move? If nothing changed, they would both be left doomed to flail around awkwardly in each others¡¯ general direction, both fully cognizant of the situation but helpless to change it. While Morgan would be happy just to have the other girl as a friend in this strange, unfamiliar world, she knew a part of her would always want to know if things could go even further.


    As if summoned by her conflicted thoughts, Morgan reflected on the oaths she had sworn just an hour or so ago. They had burned themselves into her, such that she was able to recall them word for word with perfect clarity. Magic, she figured, and something to ask about later. She had promised to live to the ¡°absolute maximum,¡± and Morgan realized that if she didn¡¯t want her new life in this world to turn out just like her old one, she had better start fulfilling that promise!


    Okay¡­ here goes nothing!


    With her heart pounding in her ears, Morgan cleared her throat and focused her wandering gaze back on Poppy.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t stay and just look at the stars a little longer though, right?¡±


    Poppy looked up from her lap where she¡¯d been fidgeting with the collapsed telescope and blinked at Morgan as though she hadn¡¯t heard her. She must have though, because she answered within the next heartbeat.


    ¡°Oh, yes, of course.¡±


    Poppy¡¯s smile had broken through again, and she leaned back on the stairs, her gaze pointed at the tapestry of stars above them. Morgan did the same, propping herself on her elbows and tilting her head, staring up into the night¡¯s sky and taking a moment to just breathe.


    Then, with slow but deliberate movements so as not to spook her, Morgan shifted in her seat, sliding across the wooden slats of the stairs until her hips and shoulders game into contact with Poppy¡¯s own. The other girl flinched slightly, despite watching Morgan the whole time, a bewildered expression on her face. For a moment, her body remained stiff, and Morgan was about to retreat to her end of the stairs, when she felt Poppy finally relax and lean back into the contact.


    Morgan wasn¡¯t about to try anything too daring, like reaching for one of Poppy¡¯s hands, or putting an arm around her, but this seemed like¡­ a good place to start. The way Poppy eventually came to rest her head slightly against Morgan¡¯s shoulder told her she agreed as well.


    ¡°Is this okay?¡± Morgan asked anyway, just to be sure.


    Poppy met her eyes. The difference in height between them meant that Morgan¡¯s shoulder was at perfect head height for her to rest her cool cheek against. Conflict was written on her face, but the fact that it was visible at all was better than the impassive stare.


    ¡°I would ask you the same thing,¡± Poppy said, her red eyes staring into Morgan appraisingly. ¡°You¡­ do not mind the contact?¡±


    ¡°Huh? No, not at all,¡± Morgan said, chuckling weakly. ¡°I just wanted to make sure you weren''t uncomfortable.¡±


    ¡°Mmmh¡­¡± Poppy finally broke her intense eye contact and looked up at the star-filled sky, the real reason they were supposedly still up on the deck, breathing in the chill night air.


    ¡°Then, yes,¡± Poppy stated plainly, and Morgan could see the stars reflected in the shiny black of her eyes. In her lap, her hands fidgeted with the telescope. Her cheeks, to Morgan¡¯s delight, once again flushed pink. ¡°This is¡­ good. I am¡­ quite comfortable¡­ T-thank you.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Morgan realized how hard she''d been staring at Poppy and returned her gaze skyward as well, repeating the word, softer and quieter. ¡°Good¡­¡±


    Sighing, Morgan relaxed back into the stairs, taking in deep breaths of cool air through her nose. Contrary to what she might have believed, her transformation into a shark-human hybrid didn¡¯t seem to have rendered her cold-blooded, as she only felt the chill from the air as a distant thing. She wasn¡¯t even shivering. Did that mean she was actually still mostly mammal? She certainly still had plenty of mammalian traits. Something to think about later, she figured, shrugging the shoulder Poppy wasn¡¯t leaning on and letting her eyes wander.


    It wasn¡¯t until her eyes fell upon the three tall rock formations looming out of the water to the right of the ship that she started to feel like there was something off about their surroundings. She remembered those rocks; she¡¯d hidden behind one after catching up with the ship, and watched while they rowed out to the nearby island, to buy or barter for the vegetables they¡¯d eaten that night. She turned her head, peering over the left side of the ship. Only the open ocean greeted her. The island was nowhere to be seen. The ship had remained anchored the entire time, Morgan was certain of it, and the rock formations were still exactly where they had been before, but the island was missing.


    ¡°Is something the matter?¡± Poppy asked after a moment, likely cluing into Morgan¡¯s confusion from the way she¡¯d been looking back and forth from the three pillars to the empty space where the island was supposed to be.


    ¡°The island is gone,¡± Morgan said.


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Poppy said, not even lifting her head to see for herself. ¡°They left just after the crew finished their business. These waters aren¡¯t safe enough for a small island like that to stay in the same place for too long.¡±


    Morgan felt her jaw drop and her mind reel. What did that mean? What did that mean?! Did islands in this world just move around as they saw fit? How? Why? How could anyone manage to find a specific island if they were capable of moving? With all these questions and more buzzing inside her head like a swarm of angry bees, Morgan opened her mouth.


    ¡°Oh¡­ right¡­¡± she said, casually, or what she hoped sounded casual. It took almost physical effort to restrain her ravenous curiosity and not ask any of her questions, but she did so. To hear Poppy say it, it sounded like the missing island wasn¡¯t anything out of the ordinary, and certainly not anything to risk ruining the moment over.


    Above all, she really didn¡¯t want this moment between her and Poppy to end, and a deluge of questions would lead to exactly that.


    But, eventually, the moment had to end. Poppy lifted her head from Morgan¡¯s shoulder and sat forward in her seat, stretching her arms out in front of her and groaning softly.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting late,¡± Poppy remarked. ¡°There will be much to do tomorrow, and it wouldn¡¯t do for you to sleep in on your first day.¡±


    ¡°Heh, right,¡± Morgan chuckled, following Poppy¡¯s lead and slowly climbing to her feet, stretching out the stiffness that had settled into her limbs. As cozy as it had seemed at the time, stairs did not make the best spot to recline.


    ¡°So, to the crew quarters then? You¡¯ll have to show me the way,¡± Morgan said as she stepped down onto the deck.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Poppy said, quickly joining her on the deck and looking up at her. ¡°Yes, there are spare hammocks set up there, but, ah¡­ well, you said you were raised among humans, correct?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Morgan said, tilting her head slightly at Poppy¡¯s sudden interest. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well, I have been told by many new crew members, er, land dwelling crew members that is, that sleeping in the hammocks takes some getting used to, especially if you are more used to sleeping on a bed, as I assume you are.¡± Poppy couldn¡¯t seem to directly meet Morgan¡¯s gaze as she explained, looking instead at a point several inches to the right of her head as they descended the stairs to the lower decks. ¡°If you would like, you may use one of the bunks in¡­ in m-my room, for the time being. It¡¯s important for you to be well rested for tomorrow, right?¡±


    Well, that was true, but something told Morgan that that was not the sole reason for Poppy making the suggestion. She may have tried her best to couch the offer in terms of practicality, but she hadn¡¯t done a very good job concealing her true intentions. Morgan got the feeling that Poppy wasn¡¯t all that used to having true intentions that she felt the need to conceal, and that fact alone made it kind of adorable to see her try.


    Either way, the decision was an easy one.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Morgan said, smiling and letting Poppy take the lead.


    Poppy led her back down into the middle deck, retracing the path she¡¯d taken to show her to her room after her meeting with Red Molly. She paused to point out the path that led to the crew quarters; a narrow set of stairs that led even deeper into the ship, from which a soft chorus of snores could be heard drifting.


    Upon arriving in Poppy¡¯s room, the other girl motioned towards the four recessed alcoves, each one equipped with simple yet comfortable looking bedding.


    ¡°You may take any one you¡¯d like,¡± Poppy said as she passed, motioning with a hand. ¡°They¡¯re built deep enough into the wall that you shouldn¡¯t fall out, unless a storm finds the ship anchored here, in which case we¡¯ll have much bigger things to worry about. Not to worry though, those on the night watch would warn us before anything like that happens.¡±


    ¡°Got it, thanks,¡± Morgan said, picking one of the bunks at random and taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, such as it was. She¡¯d seen a video once that explained the reason hammocks were used on ships, aside from the lack of space for too many permanent bunks; it was because they moved with the motion of the ship as it sailed, making it harder for the person sleeping on them to fall out onto the deck and injure themselves. But with the ship anchored and the waters as calm as they were, she didn¡¯t think she¡¯d have any trouble tonight.


    ¡°I guess it¡¯ll be fine if I sleep in my clothes,¡± Morgan said, mostly to herself. She only owned the one pair and, whether it was in Poppy¡¯s room or the crew quarters, she didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be sleeping in the nude any time soon. She¡¯d had enough being naked in front of strangers to last her for a while.


    Looking up from her contemplations, she found Poppy standing in the opposite corner of the room, her cloak hung on a rack beside her and the bandages she wore as clothes folded in neat piles on the table in front of her.


    Morgan choked out a surprised apology and averted her eyes quickly, only to hear Poppy let out a high, sharp giggle.


    ¡°You really do act a lot like a human,¡± Poppy said, but Morgan only grunted in reply.


    It was kind of amazing, Morgan thought, that Poppy could be flustered to the point of speechlessness by simply sitting shoulder to shoulder with her, yet she didn¡¯t think twice about appearing naked in front of her.


    Wait, where is she going to sleep?


    There were four bunks in the room, but it didn¡¯t seem like Poppy used those for sleeping in. All Morgan had seen in that corner of the room was a large wooden barrel, but¡­


    Morgan heard the sound of wood creaking and a faint popping, as if a seal had been broken, and her curiosity won out. She looked back towards Poppy and found her climbing into the barrel, which Morgan could now hear sloshing slightly, clearly full of some kind of liquid. Poppy looked up from lowering herself in, the lid of the barrel clutched in her hands by a pair of wooden handles built into it.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Poppy said, giving Morgan another one of her rare smiles and looking down into the barrel bashfully. ¡°Like some of our kind, I find it difficult to sleep well unless I¡¯m submerged,¡± she explained, easing herself further in, until only her head and shoulders remained above the rim of the barrel. ¡°Water that emulates my home environment would be best, but many people find the smell of the southern swamps off-putting, so I make do.¡±


    Indeed, Morgan could now make out the faintest hint of a rich, earthy, living smell coming from the unsealed barrel. It didn¡¯t smell that bad to her; in fact it reminded her of when she was little, and would sneak off to the creek to try and catch frogs with her best friend.


    God, I hope he¡¯s doing alright without me.


    Morgan didn¡¯t want to dwell on that though at all, so she smiled back at Poppy, nodding her head.


    ¡°Oh, I see, that¡¯s pretty neat actually,¡± she said, and she meant it. She hadn¡¯t even considered the idea of sleeping underwater, but she was definitely curious about it now. ¡°I¡¯d like to try that sometime, maybe I¡¯ll end up getting a barrel for myself.¡±


    For some reason, her words caused Poppy to study her for a few seconds, the blush from earlier returning to her cheeks.


    ¡°I-indeed?¡± Poppy asked, lowering herself slightly deeper into the barrel so that the bottom half of her face was hidden, holding the lid over her head like a wide brimmed hat. ¡°W-well, you¡¯d have to speak to Carpenter Karnak about that, he¡¯s¡­ well, the carpenter aboard this ship. I imagine he¡¯d relish the challenge, to construct a barrel large enough to comfortably fit you.¡±


    Morgan chuckled, scooting herself further into the alcove, easing herself down onto her¡ª


    Morgan winced and hissed as her fin was momentarily crushed between her and the bed.


    ¡°Oh, right¡­¡± she mumbled to herself as she readjusted her position to lay on her side instead. She looked up to find Poppy, still poking her head out of the barrel, watching her closely.


    Eager to move on from that embarrassing mishap, Morgan cleared her throat and chuckled, starting to speak without really knowing what would come out.


    ¡°So, uh¡­ thank you again, for teaching me about the stars,¡± Morgan said, smiling back at Poppy.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Poppy said, and then, after a moment, moved the wooden lid from where she¡¯d been holding it, above her head, to place it on the edge of the table beside her. She leaned forward, letting her chin rest atop the rim of the barrel, smiling back at Morgan. ¡°I¡¯m actually quite glad to have someone else among the crew who is¡­¡±


    Poppy seemed to be struggling to find the right words to express what she meant, but Morgan suspected she knew what Poppy was trying to say, and grinned as she offered, ¡°Another nerd?¡±


    ¡°Nerd?¡± Poppy¡¯s brows furrowed at that, and she shook her head slightly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m afraid I do not know this term, what is a ¡®nerd?¡¯¡±


    Morgan couldn¡¯t hold back a snort at the clinical way Poppy pronounced the unfamiliar word, which only earned her further scrutiny, which in turn made Morgan snicker harder.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Morgan said, getting ahold of herself and propping herself up on one elbow. ¡°It¡¯s, well, it was an insult back home, originally, but over time it¡¯s lost some of its edge as the people it applied to realized it wasn¡¯t something to be ashamed of. A nerd is just someone who¡¯s smart, who likes studying, maybe they really like studying one thing in particular even if it¡¯s not that popular or interesting to anyone but them.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± Poppy said, tilting her head to the side as she appeared to absorb the explanation, her eyes on the ceiling as she considered. She smiled, and nodded, meeting Morgan''s gaze and proudly declaring, ¡°Then, in that case, yes, I suppose I am a nerd.¡±


    Morgan had to grab the pillow from under her side and jam her face into it to stop herself from bursting out laughing and possibly waking up the ship. When she pulled her face from the slightly musty smelling fabric, Poppy¡¯s eyes were narrowed, and her lips were pursed slightly.


    ¡°S-sorry, it''s just¡­ the way you said it, so serious, it¡­¡± Morgan coughed and chuckled into her pillow a little more before shaking her head. ¡°Anyway, as a fellow nerd, I know how it feels not to have someone to share your passions with, someone who actually understands them too, so I¡¯m happy to provide.¡±


    Poppy seemed relieved, perhaps suspecting at first that Morgan hadn¡¯t been telling the truth about ¡°nerd¡± no longer being an insult, and let out a small laugh of her own that became a yawn. Morgan couldn¡¯t help but stare as Poppy¡¯s mouth opened so wide she thought she might have dislocated her jaw, and she was able to see all her teeth.


    ¡°My¡­ apologies,¡± Poppy said, bringing a hand up to her mouth to stifle the remainder of the yawn, sliding back into the center of her barrel. ¡°I am enjoying our conversation, but it is late.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, of course,¡± Morgan said, waving her hand. ¡°We should sleep, sorry for keeping you up.¡±


    ¡°Think nothing of it,¡± Poppy replied sleepily, her voice echoing slightly as she slid down deeper into the barrel, the lid clutched in her hands again. ¡°Goodnight, Miss Morgan. May Sera watch over you in your dreams.¡±


    ¡°U-uh, you too,¡± Morgan said back automatically, waving as Poppy¡¯s head disappeared. She had no idea who Sera was, the name hadn¡¯t come up during the astronomy lesson, but it seemed like the right thing to do, to return the sentiment. There was a series of creaks as the lid was tugged firmly into place to seal Poppy inside the barrel, and suddenly Morgan was ¡°alone¡± in the room.


    Sighing, and yawning, Morgan flopped over onto her side, letting her head finally come to rest on the pillow. She thought she might still sit awake for hours, too excited about tomorrow, and her first day as a pirate, but as the ship ever so slightly bobbed with the motion of the waves, Morgan found herself rocked to sleep before she knew it.


    ¡ö ¡ö


    Across the ocean, leagues and miles from where Morgan slept, the red star also slumbered, secure in her berth. Despite arriving third, she would awaken last, her deep, dream-filled sleep remaining uninterrupted until the morning.


    Up the coast, the purple star rounded another corner, spitting and cursing and throwing glances¡ªand fireballs¡ªover his shoulders as he ran for his life through the streets of the capital city.

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.9.1 (Morgan)

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 9


    ¡ö ¡ö


    Morgan¡¯s first morning as a pirate began much the same as every other day of her entire life: with breakfast.


    Breakfast was something of a stark contrast from the previous night¡¯s feast. Morgan had her choice of either rice or oatmeal, with a side of salted pork that had been cut into thick slabs and fried, and a tall cup of orange juice so pulpy she could have eaten it with a fork. She chose the oatmeal, as that had bits of fruit in it, and ate quickly, with Poppy beside her doing the same. All around them, the rest of the crew ate as well, and it wasn¡¯t hard for Morgan to pick out the ones who were sluggish from lack of sleep or nursing hangovers.


    To Morgan¡¯s total lack of surprise, Red Molly was among those who were clutching their heads and wincing at the bright sunlight that poured in from the portholes, but to her credit, that didn¡¯t seem like it was going to stop the Captain from doing her duty. Poppy, having slipped out of her seat next to Morgan without her noticing, appeared at Red Molly¡¯s side as soon as she entered, reminding her of the way they¡¯d been arranged the first time Morgan had ever seen them.


    ¡°ALRIGH¡ªah, fuck¡­¡± Red Molly hissed in pain, taking a deep breath and rubbing at her temple, before continuing at a more reasonable volume. ¡°Alright, as all but one of you knows, that crate of Empire wine for Captain Silas was our last delivery, which means we need to decide our next course of action.¡±


    There were a few seconds of quiet muttering while Red Molly continued to rub her forehead, then turned and whispered something to Poppy, who bowed her head and stepped away.


    ¡°I¡¯ll say this, our options remain the same as always, though due to present circumstances¡±¡ªRed Molly¡¯s eyes fell on Morgan, her usual grin a little lopsided¡ª¡°I am taking returning to Empire waters off the table for the time being.¡±


    There were more mutterings at that, but in the end all of them seemed to resolve into grunts of agreement, which put Morgan at ease. She would hate for her presence as a new recruit to inconvenience the crew already.


    ¡°So, reports, proposals, let¡¯s hear ¡®em,¡± Red Molly said, motioning with one hand while accepting a cup of something, hopefully water, from Poppy.


    Lined up against the wall of the mess, Morgan saw Balthazar, leaning back beside the human man and the green-scaled fish man she¡¯d also seen the night before, as well as the red-skinned, red-shelled woman and the bull man. After a quick conference between the five of them, the human man stepped forward.


    ¡°Balthazar reports we¡¯ve got dry food and fruits enough to last another month or so, but both fresh and preserved meats are running a bit low¡±¡ªBalthazar grumbled something at the man''s back, and he added¡ª¡°and he is running out of spices. Karnak reports he has enough wood that we won¡¯t need to stop and forage, but is running low on nails, glue, and resin. He recommends we avoid risking combat with anything capable of firing back until he can restock. Similarly, Izzi reports our last battle against the Thorns¡±¡ªthe name was met with a few quickly muttered curses and even a hiss from one of the crewmembers¡ª¡°has brought our supply of shots, powder and munitions below what she considers acceptable levels.¡±


    The human man rattled off each name and status report with such practiced professionalism that it reminded Morgan of the times her father had let her sit in and listen while he took conference calls in his home office.


    ¡°Mmh, probably for the best we¡¯re avoiding Empire waters, then,¡± Red Molly said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ¡°We¡¯ll miss out on a few opportunities to hit more colony supply ships, but they ain¡¯t worth risking our lives over.¡±


    Red Molly¡¯s eyes narrowed and her grin disappeared as she asked her next question.


    ¡°What of the Black Rose?¡±


    Morgan felt the room grow colder at the mention of another name she had no context for, but she noticed there were no grumbles or hisses for this one.


    ¡°Last known reports place it in the north-east seas, south of Yuusha, pursuing the Cloudchaser,¡± Hollis answered after confirming with Ethan. Red Molly let out a sigh through her nose that was shared by many other members of the crew.


    ¡°Good,¡± Red Molly said, closing her eyes. ¡°Captain Aurora can outrun that monster for weeks. Carry on then.¡±


    Hollis nodded and cleared his throat before continuing.


    ¡°Taking all factors into account, and after conferring with my fellow officers, I believe our best course of action would be to make for a friendly port, at a leisurely pace, while using the extra time to see to it our newest recruit is trained up swiftly. Additionally, between Ethan and any of our faster swimmers, we should scout our route for any large sea beasts, nothing higher than Iron rank, and attempt to subdue them if it is reasonable to do so. As always, any sea dwellers competent enough at sea hunting are encouraged to join the hunting party, to help keep the ship¡¯s stocks of fresh fish up.¡±


    Morgan couldn¡¯t help but be impressed, even if a lot of what had been said went over her head. She supposed that, despite whatever small misgivings she might still have about Red Molly and her grasp on reality, the captain did have a competent and well-organized crew working under her.


    ¡°Mmmmmmh¡­¡± the captain hummed, leaning her back against one of the wooden supports, savoring whatever was in the cup Poppy had handed her. ¡°Ahh¡­ anyone have anything else to add? Kaz, you find any more treasure maps scrawled on the walls of toilet stalls?¡±


    The crew shared a good natured laugh, Kaz himself included, but nobody appeared to actually have anything to say. Except Morgan, who raised her hand. Red Molly turned to look at her expectantly, and an uncomfortable moment of silence passed before the captain threw a hand up.


    ¡°What?¡± Red Molly demanded, and Morgan felt herself flush, realizing she¡¯d slipped back into classroom mode for a second, waiting patiently until she was actually called.


    ¡°Ah, uh, you said you need fast swimmers and people to catch fish,¡± Morgan said, unsure if she should be looking at Red Molly or the human man, Hollis, as she spoke. ¡°Well, I¡¯m a really fast swimmer myself, and I, uh¡­ think I¡¯m pretty good at catching fish, too.¡±


    For some reason, her words earned her a fresh round of amused chuckles from several of the crew.


    ¡°Already tryin¡¯ to get outta work, huh?¡± Red Molly said, smirking. ¡°Well, alright, I¡¯ve seen what you shark types can do, we¡¯ll make room in your schedule for some hunting time. But you better bring in some good stuff, or else!¡±


    Morgan felt a momentary spike of anxiety, before movement beside Red Molly drew her eye, and Poppy gave her a quick smile and a nod from under her hood. She figured that meant that she was not actually in any real danger if her catches were sub-par.


    With that out of the way, the meeting went on uninterrupted. There was a call for votes by show of hand for the proposed course, which was unanimously agreed upon, and then the ships¡¯ navigators, the bird man and the tentacled woman (whose names were Ethan and Omiya, respectively) were called up to list off the islands most likely to be nearest. Keyword being ¡°likely,¡± Morgan noted, as the way they both talked about them quickly made it clear that islands in this world did, in fact, move about, and even had things like preferred regions and known travel routes.


    Several options were presented; a small cluster of elven and orc islands to the south, a few far-out Empire colony islands to the south-east known to have lax patrols and a few pirate-friendly ports, or a medium-sized trading outpost on the outskirts of a nation called the ¡°Kingdom of Torgard¡± to the west.


    The Empire colonies were disregarded entirely, and another round of voting was called for. Several crew members were allowed to toss out quick, single sentence arguments for their pick of choice (¡°Better drinks in the elven marshes!¡± ¡°Better beds at the outpost!¡±) before the votes were cast and, in the end, it was decided that due to more favorable currents and a higher likelihood of certain supplies, the ship would be heading west for the trading outpost.


    With the meeting adjourned, everyone was quickly dismissed, the entire crew dispersing to their stations, and in under a minute the mess had been deserted, leaving Morgan behind with Red Molly, Poppy, and the green and black scaled fish man, all of whom approached her now.


    ¡°Sooooo¡­¡± Red Molly said by way of greeting, her lips pulling up into a toothy smirk. ¡°Did you sleep well?¡±


    Morgan opened her mouth to answer right away, but hesitated. It was a perfectly normal, innocuous question, or would have been coming from anyone else, but something about the way Red Molly had asked it made Morgan feel like she was really asking something else.


    ¡°Uh, yes?¡± Morgan answered, warily, then followed up with a question of her own. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well, when you didn¡¯t turn up at the crew quarters, we got a little worried about you,¡± Red Molly said, her light tone and broad smile telling Morgan she hadn¡¯t been that worried. ¡°Theeeeeen, we heard you¡¯d ended up in the sickbay.¡± Red Molly¡¯s grin widened and she leaned forward, lowering her voice to a stage whisper that was still entirely audible to everyone present. ¡°Feeling a little under the weather already, hmm?¡±


    Morgan blinked, and her eyes went wide, flicking nervously from Red Molly to Poppy, the latter of whom was holding her head in her hand. Morgan jolted in her seat, throwing her hands up.


    ¡°W-wait, no no, it wasn¡¯t like that, I swear!¡± Morgan protested, which caused Red Molly to burst out laughing and take a few steps back, even doubling over at one point, too amused to stay upright.


    ¡°Oh, wow!¡± Red Molly gasped, one hand on one of the wooden pillars as she caught her breath again, chuckling all the while. ¡°I wasn¡¯t actually going to suggest it was, but now you¡¯ve got me curious. And on your first night too¡­¡±


    ¡°Captain.¡± Poppy¡¯s voice was cold and composed, and her face was flat and stone-like, unlike Morgan, who could feel her cheeks burning at Red Molly¡¯s accusations. ¡°I extended the offer to Mo¡ª to Miss Morgan to sleep on one of the available bunks, as what she¡¯s divulged of her past led me to believe she would be most comfortable sleeping in a bed for her first night.¡±


    ¡°You extended the offer?¡± Red Molly asked, seemingly ignoring everything else Poppy had said. That once again had her grinning like a madwoman, but thankfully now her gaze was focused entirely on Poppy. The leech girl stood as still as a statue, gazing ahead of herself instead of meeting the captain¡¯s eyes, and Morgan had to admire her control.


    ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that interestin¡¯,¡± Red Molly said, shrugging and finally turning back to Morgan. Behind her, Morgan watched Poppy¡¯s shoulders rise and fall as she took a long breath and let out a silent sigh. Seemingly satisfied with¡­ whatever that had been, teasing or hazing or whatever, Red Molly seemed finally ready to get down to business.


    ¡°So, Morgan,¡± she began, starting to pace a little in the open corridor between the tables. ¡°What to do with you. You made it pretty clear yesterday you don¡¯t have much in the way of skills.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Morgan agreed, lowering her head a little. ¡°I know, on principle, how a ship like this functions, but I don¡¯t know the first thing about how to work the, uh, sails or anything like that, and I know how a cannon works but I¡¯ve never fired one, and I took like two years or so of judo classes but I¡¯ve never been in a real fight.¡±


    Red Molly continued to look Morgan over for a few moments, nodding to herself.


    ¡°Well, most of that is expected. Gullen here, the bosun, will handle teaching you the basics,¡± Red Molly said eventually, motioning to the fish man, who gave Morgan a slight nod. ¡°No matter what position you end up in, everyone on this ship needs to know their knots, so he¡¯ll be¡­ showing you the ropes for the next few days.¡±


    Red Molly snickered at her own joke, causing both Gullen and Poppy to roll their eyes.


    ¡°Never gets old, does it?¡± Gullen asked sourly, before turning to Morgan. ¡°Nice to finally meetcha up close, lass. Ye can call me bosun or ye can jes¡¯ call me Gullen.¡±


    ¡°Uh, nice to meet you,¡± Morgan replied, smiling. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to learn from you quickly, all my teachers have always said I was a fast learner.¡±


    ¡°Teachers? Multiple?¡± Gullen said, arching a brow.


    ¡°Oh, uh, yes, well my parents¡ª¡± Morgan started to explain, but Gullen held up a hand to stop her.


    ¡°Ah, ye don¡¯t have to tell me, I was jes curious. It¡¯ll be good to have someone else aboard with some manners and a bit of sense in their head though,¡± Gullen said, chuckling and sticking his hands in his pockets.


    ¡°But you will have to tell me sometime,¡± Red Molly piped up briefly to say, giving Morgan a hungry, lingering look that sent shivers down her spine.


    Morgan smiled back at the captain nervously, shrugging her shoulders in an attempt to appear casual. She was planning to give Red Molly, and probably Poppy, the full details of her circumstances for being here in this world, but she knew now was not the time.


    ¡°Anyway, you¡¯re certainly big enough to work the cannons, but it¡¯ll be up to Izzi if she wants you on the gunners crew, same with Karnak if he thinks you¡¯d make a good carpenter,¡± Red Molly continued, and Morgan was sure she remembered those names from the start of the meeting, when the human man she still didn¡¯t know had delivered the ship¡¯s status report. Red Molly paused again, bringing a hand to her chin and tilting her head. ¡°You mentioned something there about fighting, you said you took ¡®judo?¡¯ Can¡¯t say I know what that means.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, it¡¯s just a martial art, er, that is, a special fighting style,¡± Morgan said, shrugging her shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s for self-defense, mostly, and I only had two years of practice before I, uh, ended up here, so I¡¯m not very good...¡±


    Morgan knew from experience how annoying it was to talk to someone who constantly bragged about how good they were at fighting, whether or not they actually were, so she always strived to remain humble whenever she mentioned her judo classes¡­ Unlike with swimming, nobody cared if you bragged about being good at swimming, which Morgan did do. Just a little bit.


    ¡°Hmm, that¡¯s¡­ unexpected,¡± Red Molly said, after regarding Morgan in silence for several moments. She had a hand on her chin and was stroking it thoughtfully. ¡°Provided you¡¯re not lying, of course, but I can¡¯t see why you would. Well, you¡¯re in luck, we¡¯ve got time set aside for martial training later today, think you could show us some of this ¡®judo¡¯ then?¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure?¡± Morgan said, tilting her head. She wasn¡¯t sure what had Red Molly so confused; she didn¡¯t seem unfamiliar with the concept of martial arts, and Morgan figured there was no harm in showing off a few basic throws and takedowns. She was more interested in what kind of martial training the pirates already got up to, and wondered if that meant she¡¯d be taught how to use a sword or something.


    ¡°Good, I look forward to it,¡± Red Molly said, nodding and turning on her heels, waving over her shoulder as she walked towards the door. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll see you up on deck. Gullen, she¡¯s in your hands now.¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± Gullen replied, nodding his head and touching two of his fingers to his brow in a lazy salute. As Red Molly departed, Poppy followed in tow, pausing at the door to nod her head at Morgan before disappearing as well. Beside her, Gullen made a noise in his throat that might have been a chuckle.


    ¡°Come on then, let¡¯s get topside. Those louts¡¯ll already be getting us ready to make way, but I want you to see a bit of how it¡¯s done,¡± Gullen said as he began to lead Morgan out of the mess and back to the main deck.


    ¡°Right!¡± Morgan replied enthusiastically, as eager to prove herself as always. While they walked she could hear a rhythmic grinding noise through the walls, growing louder as they approached the stairs where a bright column of sunlight beamed down from above. Morgan had to squint her eyes against the brightness as she emerged beside Gullen, covering her brow with one hand.


    On the deck, a small crowd of crew members were all busying themselves with a number of inscrutable tasks, but the largest group was gathered around a large cylindrical wood and metal crank with five wooden poles that stuck out like spokes on a wheel, with three or four people to each pole, slowly walking in circles to turn the crank.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see some hustle you lot, we want ta be underway within the hour!¡± Gullen shouted as he emerged onto the deck, causing a noticeable reaction to run through the crew, but not without some grumbles and comments tossed back in return. Pointing to the crank, Gullen looked up at Morgan and explained, ¡°That there be yer capstan. Very important that is, right now it¡¯s draggin¡¯ the anchors back up outta the water, but we also got one fer haulin¡¯ heavy cargo.¡±


    ¡°I see...¡± Morgan nodded along, leaning over the railing and watching as a surprisingly thin length of chain was steadily drawn out of the water through an opening near the front of the ship. She¡¯d been expecting something huge and heavy made of crude black iron, so the relatively flimsy chain made of some green-tinted metal confused her.


    ¡°It¡¯s so thin,¡± Morgan said absently, and Gullen cocked his head to follow her gaze.


    ¡°Th¡¯ anchor chain? ¡®Course it is, this ain¡¯t a barge, lass,¡± Gullen said with a chuckle, pointing at the steadily winding chain. ¡°That¡¯s steel strengthened with mithril, so it¡¯s only as thick as it needs to be to do its job without weighin¡¯ us down unnecessarily.¡±


    ¡°O-ooh, wow,¡± Morgan said, her eyes suddenly wide at the casual mention of what was, to her, a fictional mythical metal.


    With that momentary distraction out of the way, she turned with Gullen as he pointed up to the towering masts, where several more crew members were working on the raised and furled sails, and began explaining what they were doing and why.


    For the next hour, Morgan watched and listened as Gullen took her from one end of the ship to the other, pointing out and naming every piece of equipment and its function, from the names of each of the various sails to the ropes and beams that held them in place. He showed her around the helm, where Red Molly and Ethan, the bird man navigator, were discussing something while the latter steered the ship. After the sails had been lowered and trimmed, Gullen led her back down into the lower decks, finally giving her a proper tour of the ship. She found out where the crew quarters actually were, she was shown through the gun deck, where Izzi and her crew of gunners sat at various small tables, chatting or playing cards. She was also brought down to the lowest decks to see the cargo holds, getting a glimpse at the sacks, barrels, and crates that contained the ship¡¯s many supplies. Along the way they also encountered Karnak, the carpenter, who turned out to be the large tanned man with the horns of a bull. Despite his intimidating appearance, he greeted Morgan and Gullen warmly as they passed.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s all of ¡®er,¡± Gullen said as they finished the tour and began backtracking up through the decks. ¡°Ye¡¯ve been awful quiet, have ye any questions?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, no, I think I got everything,¡± Morgan answered with a smile. ¡°Though I kind of wish I had something to take notes with, that¡¯d help me remember it better.¡±


    Gullen chuckled at that, arching a skeptical brow. ¡°¡®Got everythin¡¯, y¡¯say? Well then, can ye tell me which is the clewline and which is the buntline?¡±


    Morgan blinked, then smiled wider. He was quizzing her? But it hadn¡¯t even been an hour.


    ¡°The clewlines are the ropes on the outermost corners of the sails, and the buntlines are the lines that run along the middle, and both are used to control the shape of the sails,¡± Morgan answered confidently. ¡°There¡¯s also the halyard for raising and lowering the sails, and the braces, sheet, and tack for controlling the angle of the sails themselves, and all of those together comprise the standing rigging and running rigging of the ship.¡±


    Gullen just peered back at her for several seconds, and Morgan got the distinct impression he was trying not to look impressed.


    ¡°I was gonae ask ye to name the sails next but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Main sail, main topsail, fore sail, fore topsail, fore staysail, jib, and flying jib,¡± Morgan answered, beaming and crossing her arms behind her back.


    Gullen let out a snort and nodded. ¡°But I can see ye weren¡¯t lyin¡¯ about bein¡¯ a fast learner. And why ye get on so well with our good doctor already.¡±


    ¡°Heh, sorry,¡± Morgan said, shrugging her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ve been in school for most of my life, so picking up and holding onto information is one thing I¡¯m very good at. That doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t appreciate you taking the time to teach me, of course, and you should still keep checking in to make sure I¡¯ve retained everything. Reinforcement is very important to learning.¡±


    By the time Morgan finished speaking, they¡¯d made it back onto the main deck. Once there, Morgan saw that most of the crowd had since dispersed, leaving behind only as many crew as it took to tend the sails and keep watch.


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll do that, though I don¡¯t imagine I¡¯ll have to fer long,¡± Gullen said, making a quick circuit of the ship, inspecting the lines as he went. He continued to quiz Morgan along the way, asking her to identify the rows of wooden pegs the ropes were secured to¡ª¡°Belaying pins!¡± ¡°Very good.¡±¡ªor the series of wood and metal pulleys that the ropes were run through to help make them easier to handle¡ª¡°Blocks and tackle.¡± ¡°Aye.¡±¡ªuntil finally stopping at the very front of the ship, looking out over the water.


    ¡°Well, that went quicker than expected,¡± Gullen said, pausing to hop up onto the railing and take a seat. ¡°I suppose there¡¯s still room in that head of yers for some knots?¡±


    Morgan nodded eagerly, and Gullen produced a spare length of rope and began showcasing a truly dizzying number of knots, making sure to tell her what they were best used for and even pointing to a part of the ship where that very knot was in use, then asking her to tie them herself while also repeating back the information. Before she knew it, another hour had passed, and she felt like she had a good enough handle on most of the knots to practice them in her downtime.


    At some point, a series of clanging noises rang out across the deck, and Morgan looked over to see that it was a bell that hung near the wheel, being run by one of the crew members at the helm.


    ¡°Shift change,¡± Gullen explained as he stood and stretched, and Morgan watched for a few minutes as the crew already on the deck met with and swapped places with a fresh batch before descending into the ship. Morgan dimly recalled hearing the sound of the bell at some point in the night, and again during her tour with Gullen. ¡°Ye¡¯ll only need to learn to count the bells if ye end up a deckhand, but I shan¡¯t think that¡¯s where yer destined for.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Morgan asked, following as Gullen once again began to lead her towards the helm.


    ¡°Aye, well, I have a feelin¡¯ the captain has a few more important positions in mind for ye, dependin¡¯ how you perform in your other tasks,¡± Gullen said, smirking over his shoulder at Morgan. They ascended the stairs up to the helm, passing by Ethan, still at the wheel, and stopping before Red Molly, who was leant against the back railing and staring out at the ocean.


    ¡°Captain,¡± Gullen spoke, to draw her attention.


    ¡°Mmmh?¡± Red Molly hummed, turning and facing them. ¡°Ah, you two. How¡¯s it going?¡±


    ¡°The lass is a sponge,¡± Gullen said, causing Morgan to grin. ¡°She¡¯s already soaked up as much as I can show her today. I¡¯ll want her to try her hand a few times at haulin¡¯ the lines or settin¡¯ the riggin¡¯, and she¡¯ll need to practice her knot work till she can do ¡®em faster, but other¡¯n that she¡¯s already leagues ahead of most new recruits.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t even take all morning, huh?¡± Red Molly said, crossing her arms and smirking.


    Morgan grinned back and nodded. ¡°Well, I did say I was a fast learner.¡±


    ¡°That you did,¡± Red Molly said, pushing herself off the railing. ¡°Well, I promised to let Izzi and Karnak get their hands on you and see if you¡¯re suited to work in their areas, but I think that can wait. You said you¡¯d like to try your hand at catching us some fish, and there¡¯s still that ¡®judo¡¯ you mentioned.¡±


    ¡°I-it¡¯s really nothing special,¡± Morgan said, waving her hand, but was ignored as Red Molly moved past her, heading down the stairs.


    ¡°So here¡¯s what I want from you. The hunting party, that is, Poppy and a few of the others, are going to be going for a quick hunt soon,¡± Red Molly said, motioning towards the lower decks. ¡°They¡¯ll be in the mess with Balthazar, go join them. I¡¯m eager to see what you¡¯re capable of.¡±


    You and me both, Morgan thought. Out loud, she said, ¡°Right, got it!¡± and took off down the stairs, heading for the mess. She didn¡¯t actually know if she was capable of catching any fish; she just knew that she felt like she should be, based on how easily she¡¯d chased the fish around after first waking up in the ocean. True, the only fish she¡¯d actively tried to catch so far had managed to elude her long enough to lead her into a fishing net. Then again, she was pretty sure that fish had been special in some way.


    Arriving at the door to the mess, Morgan shook her head. She didn¡¯t need to start doubting herself now; she was a pirate, officially, and she was also more than six feet of fins and claws and teeth, she could definitely catch some fish and bring them back to the ship! She was prepared to live her life to the absolute maximum!


    Opening the door to the mess, Morgan stepped in, and her eyes immediately fell on Poppy, who stood there in the central aisle, completely naked.


    Back out in the hall, Morgan cursed herself. She¡¯d been so startled she¡¯d backed up, slamming the door behind her as she went. If she hadn¡¯t already been noticed upon entering, that surely would have drawn all eyes in the room to her, and now she was going to have to go back in there!


    Taking several deep breaths and reminding herself of what Poppy had said, that getting hung up on being seen without clothes was not something common to sea dwellers, she once more pushed the door in and stepped inside once more.


    Thankfully, when she peeked into the mess again, Poppy was clothed, after a fashion. Her bandage wrappings had been replaced with a simple top that was tied around her chest and a flowing shawl that was draped across her hips, both made of some flimsy-looking, brownish-gold colored fabric, with tiny shells and beads hanging from the fringes or woven in patterns.


    Now that she wasn¡¯t blinded by surprise and panic, she could see that Poppy was not the only occupant of the room. There were also two other figures, similarly clothed as she was: a man with silvery gray scales and large black dots running down his sides, with a prominent lower jaw and, like Morgan, a mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth. Beside him was the cephalopod woman she knew as Omiya, the other navigator. Getting a good look at her (but not that good a look at her), Morgan saw that her larger head was shaped like a spade, sweeping back behind her like the body of a cuttlefish. In the middle of her face, between her two huge eyes that resembled glassy orbs, was a black beak, and hanging down from the sides of her head and chin were several tendrils, two of them being significantly longer and thicker than the others and ending in wide, flat tips. Her body, which Morgan was not staring at, was mainly purple, splotched with pink and black spots. Her hands were large and thick, with only three oversized fingers and a thumb, and instead of feet, her legs just sort of ended in a pair of blunt, stubby nubs that she seemed to have no trouble walking on.


    ¡°Oh, hiya, it¡¯s nice to finally meet you!¡± Omiya said, using one of her head tendrils to wave at Morgan.


    ¡°Oh, uh, h-hello,¡± Morgan said, finally stepping into the room instead of just gaping at everyone from the doorway. ¡°S-sorry about that, I¡­¡±


    ¡°You were raised by humans, yeah, Poppy told me,¡± Omiya cut in, the tendrils on her face waving excitedly as she talked. ¡°That¡¯s soooo weird. Do you know why? Did they fish you out of the sea when you were just an egg? Did you know your real parents? Oh oh, do you think they were just raising you until you got big enough for them to eat you?¡±


    Morgan stared back at Omiya, her mouth slightly agape, trying to figure out which of her many back-to-back questions she wanted to answer first, while also trying to process what some of them implied about this world. To the side, Poppy let out a sigh and looked up at Morgan.


    ¡°Please forgive Navigator Omiya, she has not had much experience with humans, or land dwellers in general. I have told her they do not eat our kind and likely have not for tens of thousands of years, but she refuses to listen,¡± Poppy said, her stoic indifference standing in stark contrast to the other woman¡¯s bubbly exuberance.


    She kind of reminds me of Mandy, only¡­ less mean¡­.


    Shaking her head, Morgan regained her mental footing and put on a smile. ¡°Uh, well, to answer¡­ some of your questions, yes, I did know my real parents, I still lived with them, I just¡­ spent a lot of time around humans when I was growing up? And I¡¯m definitely sure they weren¡¯t planning on eating me.¡±


    ¡°Mmmmm, okay, but I¡¯m still not letting my guard down around Hollis,¡± Omiya said.


    ¡°A-hem!¡±


    A familiar over-exaggerated clearing of the throat drew the room¡¯s attention back to the front, where Balthazar stood by a small pile of woven baskets, looking somewhat peeved.


    ¡°Are ye all done natterin¡¯?¡± he asked gruffly, and Morgan joined the others in mumbling a quick apology. He turned to her, squinting one eye and tilting his head. ¡°And I suppose yer goin¡¯ along too?¡± Morgan nodded again, and he sighed, pulling out a book that he¡¯d been holding under his arm and passing it to Poppy. ¡°Well, I ain¡¯t goin¡¯ over the list again. You lot, show ¡®er what she oughta be lookin¡¯ out fer, while I go get ¡®er some baskets. Ye better be ready ta go by the time I get back.¡±


    With that, he turned and marched back towards the galley. Realizing what he meant, and knowing she didn¡¯t have time to worry about being shy, Morgan began frantically removing her clothes while also trying to listen as Poppy held open the book she¡¯d been given and pointed out what types of fish were in the area and which types Balthazar was particularly interested in them catching.


    This is fine, Morgan assured herself. Just¡­ just think about it like the locker room after gym class.


    ¡°...and lastly, there are various species of larger bladefish in this area, but I¡­ hope I don¡¯t have to tell you how dangerous those are,¡± Poppy said, pointing to a page of the book that showed what at first glance resembled a swordfish, but with its signature extended bill and tall top fin replaced with actual metallic growths, which the accompanying text assured were razor sharp and capable of inflicting terrific damage on the unprepared. The shapes varied, from straight like an ordinary swordfish, to wickedly curved like a scimitar, to wavy and serrated like a saw blade. There was even one that appeared to have an axe blade sticking out of its face.


    ¡°Uh, r-right, I¡¯ll be careful,¡± Morgan said as she stepped out of her pants. She was glad now that she didn¡¯t have shoes to remove, nor a need to wear them, as she quickly folded up her clothes and set them next to the others¡¯ piles. A folded pile of the same odd golden fabric was pressed into her hands by Omiya, and she found it both surprisingly light and alluringly smooth to the touch, like silk.


    ¡°Like it?¡± Omiya asked while Morgan struggled to tie the chest piece behind her back without bumping into her fin. ¡°It¡¯s sea silk, some of my finest pieces! Poppy told me how you get weird about being naked, like the land dwellers do, and I never have an excuse to dress up fancy like they do back in the citadel unless we''re bargaining for directions, soooo I decided to do you a favor!¡±


    Morgan tried to formulate a response, but the thin strips of smooth cloth slipped out of her fingers again, and she let out a frustrated grunt.


    ¡°Here, let me help,¡± Omiya offered with a giggle and a series of clicking noises from her beak. Morgan gladly turned her back to the cheerful woman, biting her lip as she felt large, slightly clammy fingers working deftly to tie the top into place, once around the back of her neck and once around the base of her fin, then doing the same for the hip shawl, leaving her, well, still pretty underdressed, but feeling much less exposed. She almost felt more like she was ready for a day at the beach. Just as they finished, Balthazar returned from the galley with his hands full.


    ¡°Ready? Good,¡± Balthazar said, not waiting for an answer before passing Morgan the items he held in his hands. One was a pair of tall, lidded baskets connected at the top with a belt made of rope and cloth, meant to be worn around her waist then tied around her thighs as well, sort of like the holsters of an old revolver. The second was a much larger basket of the same make, with two large loops so it could be worn like a backpack.


    ¡°Now remember you lot, if possible I want these fish alive an¡¯ whole til you can pass ¡®em off to me,¡± Balthazar said as Morgan and the others set to strapping the baskets onto themselves. ¡°Try not to put too many holes in ¡®em or take too many nibbles, and that goes double fer you, lass.¡±


    The last comment he delivered while pointing up at Morgan, and she felt her cheeks flush a little. She wanted to protest, but she couldn¡¯t really blame him. She was a towering shark girl now, afterall. She had another brief struggle when she realized her back fin would prevent her from wearing the largest basket as intended, but Balthazar showed her how to untie and reposition the loops around her stomach instead, so she wore the basket sideways, resting on her lower back in the space between where her fin stopped and her tail began.


    With preparations finally complete, the small crowd left the mess with Balthazar leading the way. Morgan trailed behind, and when Poppy noticed she also fell back, and the pair of them brought up the rear together.


    ¡°So, this was your idea?¡± Morgan asked, reaching up and lightly tugging the flimsy silk top she wore. The bottom hem had tassels running along it from which more shells and beads dangled.


    Poppy¡¯s lips twitched ever so slightly and she looked down at her own matching garment. ¡°You volunteered to go hunting, and I did not want you to be unable to participate. If I had not arranged this, I fear you would have tried to go swimming with your clothes on.¡±


    ¡°I probably would have,¡± Morgan agreed, chuckling.


    ¡°You are fortunate that Omiya keeps articles such as these on hand for when she needs to deal with¡­ certain citizens of the deep seas,¡± Poppy continued. ¡°I have never been to any of the citadels myself, but I would like to, one day.¡±


    Morgan, of course, had no clue what ¡°the citadels¡± even were, but she could guess they had some special significance to sea dwellers if even Poppy longed to visit one, so she took a chance.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve never been to any of them either,¡± Morgan said, beaming brightly back at Poppy. ¡°Maybe we could go to one of them together someday, huh?¡±


    As Morgan had been hoping, Poppy¡¯s cheeks flushed red at that, and she could see her struggling to keep her face still and her expression neutral. This only caused her to grin wider, which in turn seemed to cause Poppy to become even more flustered, to the point that she once again reached up for a hood that was not there. Morgan thought that would be all she got from that exchange, but just as they reached the last staircase before the top deck, Poppy managed to squeeze out a reply.


    ¡°I am beginning to suspect that you say such things for the sole purpose of seeing how I will react to them,¡± Poppy said, turning her head down and to the side, scrutinizing the well-trodden wooden floor with a serious expression.


    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not the only reason,¡± Morgan said, and Poppy laughed, so suddenly and so surprised by it that she brought a hand up to cover her mouth, turning away and hunching over while her shoulders continued to shake.


    After taking a moment to compose herself again, Poppy turned back, keeping her head tilted down, and shuffled up closer to Morgan, her voice barely a whisper even though they had long since been left behind by the other members of the hunting party.


    ¡°I think¡­ I would like that,¡± was all she said, before she jumped back, hurrying ahead of Morgan to reach the staircase that led to the top deck before her. There, she paused and took a deep breath, straightening her back and forcing her face back into its customary blank expression, then proceeded up the stairs at a slow, casual pace.


    Morgan stood at the base of the stairs, smiling to herself and shaking her head.


    Is this really okay? she wondered, watching Poppy disappear into the sunlight as she thought. Do you think she¡¯ll still be as interested in you when she learns the truth? That you''ve been lying to her, that you¡¯re really just some ordinary human girl who fell off a boat and died? And how could you even be thinking about that at a time like this? Shouldn''t you be trying to find a way home, not playing pretend with ¡°pirates?¡±


    Frowning a little at her own sour thoughts, she shook her head again, harder. Since her therapist hadn¡¯t tagged along with her to this fantasy world, it was now up to her and her alone to catch all of her maladaptive self-doubts and self-sabotaging impulses before they could pile up and make her do something stupid, or leave her too much of a wreck to leave her room. Or wherever she ended up sleeping, since she doubted she¡¯d get a room all to herself. That aside, she reasoned that Poppy was¡­ something like a scientist, so maybe she¡¯d actually be fascinated to learn that Morgan was from another world. As to whether she was doing the right thing, joining a pirate crew instead of frantically searching for a way back to her old life on Earth, well¡­


    I can ask Red Molly about it when I bring it up with her. Later.


    Deciding she¡¯d lingered for far too long, Morgan hurried the rest of the way up the stairs, emerging onto the deck. Once again, she had to shield herself from the sudden sunlight, and once the spots in her eyes began to clear she could see the rest of the crew, Balthazar and the others who¡¯d volunteered to hunt included, all looking expectantly in her direction, all waiting on her.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°S-sorry,¡± Morgan stammered out, waving weakly. Good-natured chuckles from the crew met her as she walked over to where Poppy, Omiya, and the silver-scaled man waited for her, lined up against the left¡ªNo, port side, you¡¯re a pirate now!¡ªrailing.


    Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could see that in the sunlight, the sea silk practically glowed, the golden-brown threads taking on a twinkling sheen, like metal heated in a furnace, offset by the various shells and beads, causing a rainbow to momentarily dance across her vision.


    Of course, staring at the beautiful fabric meant staring at the people wearing it as well, so she quickly tore her eyes away from both Poppy and Omiya before anyone could get the wrong idea.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d like them.¡± Morgan caught Omiya whispering as she took her place in the line beside her, the way two of her face tendrils curled up giving Morgan the distinct impression of a smile.


    ¡°Y-yeah, I do,¡± Morgan whispered back. ¡°I didn''t get a chance to thank you earlier, so, uh, thank you. I really appreciate this.¡±


    ¡°Looks like we''re all accounted for,¡± Red Molly called from the helm, peering down at the hunting party with a grin. ¡°Well, better be off then. Remember, these are dangerous waters, so watch your crewmates¡¯ backs, and don¡¯t try to take on anythin¡¯ bigger than you are.¡±


    With that last bit of advice directed mostly towards Morgan, Red Molly clapped, then waved her hands in a shooing motion, and the other three moved to climb up onto the railing, while the assembled crew on deck wished them luck and shouted words of encouragement at their backs.


    As Morgan joined the others on the railing, she saw something that made her almost lose her footing and go tumbling off the edge. There was a plank!


    Jutting out from a gap between two of the wooden supports that ran along the railing, and secured in place by a pair of metal hooks, a long narrow plank of wood about seven feet in length extended out over the churning waters. Morgan felt a goofy smile spread across her face at seeing something so quintessentially pirate-y, like when she¡¯d first seen Red Molly¡¯s quarters.


    Then, she remembered how horrible a practice forcing someone to ¡°walk the plank¡± actually was, how the victim was usually blindfolded and tied in such a way to make treading water impossible, details that usually got scrubbed out of most media that featured pirates, even the less kid friendly ones. The presence of something so grim and cruel on this ship made some of her previously banished second thoughts resurface.


    Her heart almost stopped when Omiya stepped out onto the narrow wooden beam, and she gasped out, causing her to look back.


    ¡°What?¡± Omiya asked, tilting her head quizzically. ¡°You want to go first?¡±


    Seconds later, Morgan¡¯s brain caught up with the rest of her, forcing two facts to the front of her mind: One, this world had fish people, or in Omiya¡¯s place, squid people, who could breathe underwater and regularly needed to leap from their ships for one reason or another, and two, the core ideals of what it meant to be a pirate in this world were radically different from her own, and everything she¡¯d seen so far made it highly unlikely they would employ such an evil method of execution.


    Those two facts collided in her head and formed into one greater realization, one that had her grinning stupidly all over again.


    It wasn¡¯t a plank, it was a diving board, so that crew leaving the ship could jump to a safe distance without risk of getting dragged back into the ship¡¯s wake and injuring themselves.


    ¡°N-no, sorry, you go ahead,¡± Morgan hastily composed herself, waving her hand. She waited her turn, Omiya taking a quick running start before leaping off. She stepped out onto the plank next, still unable to stop grinning.


    ¡°Make sure you jump well away from the ship,¡± Poppy spoke from Morgan¡¯s back, raising her voice to be heard over the din of the waves and the crowd behind them. ¡°You do not want to be slammed back into the hull.¡±


    ¡°No problem!¡± Morgan replied with a confident smile, bending her knees a few times and limbering herself up. There wasn¡¯t enough room for a full running start with how long her legs were, but she was still able to get up to a decent speed by the time she hit the end of the narrow plank and jumped. It wasn¡¯t the greatest dive, not without an actual proper springboard, but she still got enough height and momentum to pull off a single tight flip before she straightened out, arms extended, and pierced through the surface of the waves like an arrow, plunging deep into the water.


    Fighting the initial urge to return to the surface, she instead kicked her legs to propel herself deeper, feeling for the first time in hours the cool water rushing over her gills. It was still a peculiar, yet invigorating sensation, like she¡¯d been holding her breath for an entire day and was only now able to inhale again.


    She felt as much as she heard the other two hitting the water above her, the thrumming noise of solid mass breaking the water vibrating in her ears and through her body. Catching up to Omiya, she flipped over on her back, grinning and sluggishly waving at Poppy and the silver scaled man as they approached. Damn, she never got a chance to ask him his name, and now she couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Poppy asked as she reached Morgan¡¯s depth. Which, Morgan realized with a jolt, should not have been physically possible. The way humans (and probably all the other non-humans in this world as well, she reminded herself) spoke was by pushing air up from their lungs and through their throats, causing their vocal cords to vibrate. Without air to cycle through the body, producing ordinary speech underwater should be impossible, to say nothing of how difficult it would be to understand due the differences in density from air to water.


    And yet, Poppy had obviously spoken to her, and Morgan had clearly understood it, her voice sounding ethereal and slightly deeper.


    ¡°Mo¡­ Miss Morgan, is everything well?¡± Poppy asked, drifting closer with a flick of her tail. Morgan, keen on cracking this mystery, had been staring intently at her waiting for her to speak again.


    Her mouth was open, but she didn¡¯t move her lips¡­ but she did move her throat¡­ some kind of subvocalization? Is this a fish people thing, some kind of extra organ and specially tuned sonar? Am I hearing her with my ears or my whole body?


    ¡°Y-yes?¡± Morgan finally replied, hesitating, as she was unsure if she¡¯d be able to replicate whatever feat Poppy was employing to talk with her. She felt her mouth and throat moving in ways she had not directed them to, but also knew without a doubt that what she had said had been perfectly conveyed. ¡°Sorry, just¡­ distracted for a second. I''m ready.¡±


    Poppy nodded, and swam past her, continuing to descend. Morgan lingered for just another moment, staring up at the dark oblong shape of the ship''s hull overhead.


    Will wonders never cease? she asked herself, smiling pleasantly.


    Then, with mounting excitement, she flipped back over and began swimming to catch up with Poppy and the others. She had a job to do, afterall.


    With the four of them moving as a group, swimming so as to keep pace with the ship, Morgan made something of a startling discovery. Now that it was day and the sun was up, she was able to see much further in all directions, and could see that the ocean floor was much higher than she expected it to be, and much clearer as well. She could make out the rolling underwater landscape directly below her and estimated it to be about two hundred and fifty meters deep, rising higher in some places to form hills and plunging even deeper down to from valleys, covered in gently swaying greenery as though she were floating above a lush countryside.


    All of which, she thought with bemused frustration, should have been impossible. The presence of vegetation at that depth, and the fact that she could even see it in the first place, both went against everything she knew about how light and water interacted. Unlike sound, which traveled further and faster in water than in air, light traveled slower in water, and would rapidly lose most of its intensity after only the first ten meters, with only about one percent of visible light able to penetrate down to a hundred meters. Two hundred meters was supposed to be the very limit past which photosynthesis became impossible.


    Unperturbed by the impossibility of its existence, the dense carpet of seaweed swayed below her, broken up here and there by massive coral growths and even more massive bones. Everywhere Morgan looked, she saw movement, from countless species of fish, alone or in schools, as well as other sea creatures, some of which she recognized and some that resembled nothing she¡¯d ever seen on Earth.


    The sight of the fish once again reminded Morgan that she was down here to hunt, not to sightsee, and she¡¯d gotten distracted again. Whatever odd, inexplicable quirks of this world caused the laws of physics to behave differently than they should, she could investigate them later. The other three had once again pulled ahead of her, and were descending upon the underwater forest.


    ¡°So, uh, what¡¯s the plan?¡± Morgan asked Poppy as she swam beside her.


    ¡°Plan?¡± the silver-scaled man asked, looking back, his lips pulled back and showing all his many teeth. ¡°They¡¯re jus¡¯ fish. Catch what ya can, put it in yer baskets, don¡¯t get eaten by a whale.¡±


    With that, he swam ahead, diving further down until he disappeared amidst the gently swaying fronds of the seaweed, where he seemed to vanish. Morgan watched just long enough for one unfortunate school of fish to drift too close to where he¡¯d been hiding, and gasped as the man shot out of the foliage, lightning quick, snatching one fish in each hand and another in his teeth before disappearing once more.


    ¡°Ignore him,¡± Omiya said, rolling her large eyes. She gave Morgan another smile, which is to say her tentacles lifted in a certain way and Morgan¡¯s brain somehow interpreted it as a smile, then she too drifted down towards the seabed. As she went, her body began to change color before Morgan¡¯s very eyes, darkening from purple and pink to a lush yellow-green, perfectly matching the patch of seaweed she slid into. Her two longest tendrils rose out of the patch, then thinned out, and Morgan gaped as she became completely unable to tell which of the gently swaying stalks were genuine and which were part of Omiya¡¯s body.


    Once again, Morgan watched on as a few fish drifted too close to the now deadly patch of seaweed, and were quickly ensnared by the tendrils and dragged down into Omiya¡¯s waiting hands.


    ¡°Wow, they¡¯re good,¡± Morgan said distantly. She was beginning to wonder if she¡¯d even be able to compete with skills and abilities like that when, as far as she knew, all she had on her side was swimming fast.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Poppy said, starting to drift away. Morgan, a little at a loss, followed her for a ways and watched as she perched on the tip of a giant, half submerged rib that formed an overhang above a cluster of pink and turquoise coral.


    ¡°You may wish to stay at a distance,¡± Poppy told her, glancing over her shoulder and giving Morgan a little smirk. ¡°I do not think you would be affected that badly, but it is better to be safe than sorry, yes?¡±


    Curious, but mindful of Poppy¡¯s warning, Morgan swam back a few feet, then turned to watch. Poppy crouched on the tip of the rib and lowered herself, while her tail swung up and over her head, pointed towards the coral, then began swishing back and forth in the water. The tip was open, Morgan saw, and she thought she could¡­ smell something, or maybe taste it, as it entered the water, a faint cloudiness around Poppy that began to spread as she swiped her tail back and forth. It was sweet, like the smell of sugar particles that hung in the air around a cotton candy machine. Morgan tried to pay attention to what Poppy was actually doing, but the smell was actually kind of distracting, and Morgan found herself drifting a little closer in hopes of getting a better taste¡­


    Blinking, Morgan swam back several more feet, wishing she was above the surface so she could take a few deep breaths to clear her head. Now quite certain she knew what Poppy was up to, she watched with fascination as several fish began to emerge from the crevices between the coral, swimming towards Poppy. They reached her and began to circle lazily or rub up against her body, even as she began plucking them like fruit and depositing them into her baskets.


    Huh¡­


    Morgan shook her head again. As much as she wanted to bombard each of her companions with questions about their intriguing abilities, she didn''t have time to be sitting around. She needed to catch some fish of her own soon or risk going back empty handed.


    Putting a bit more distance between herself and the others so as not to disturb their individual hunts, Morgan scanned the water slowly, searching for any fish she recognized from Poppy¡¯s brief overview. A metallic flash drew her eye and she swam closer, discovering a school of narrow-bodied, copper-colored fish averaging one and a half to two feet long, appropriately named ¡°copper mackerels.¡±


    Perfect!


    Now, Morgan knew that ordinary tiger sharks were stealthy ambush predators that usually hunted at night, but ordinary tiger sharks didn¡¯t have hands, or several first place trophies from local and regional swim meets, so she wasn¡¯t going to worry about whether or not she was doing things ¡°the right way¡± when it came to catching fish, she was just going to do what she did best. Sticking low and skimming the surface of the seaweed, Morgan began approaching the school with as much stealth as a six-foot shark-shaped person could. The instant she saw the fish begin to notice her and turn as one to flee, she kicked her legs and arms into high gear and shot off after them.


    It was, in Morgan¡¯s completely amateur opinion, shockingly easy for her to close the gap between her and the school of panicked fish. At the last moment, she remembered the admonishment she¡¯d gotten from Poppy for ¡°letting¡± her win their friendly race the night before, for not using her tail, and with a spare thought, she tried to flex the massive limb behind her.


    It was like she¡¯d flipped a switch inside her brain, and her body began moving through the water at speeds she¡¯d never experienced, her spine and tail undulating as one to propel her forward without even needing to use her arms or legs. Morgan plowed through the living cloud of copper scales so fast she wasn¡¯t sure who was more startled, her or the fish. They scattered, and reformed, darting back in the direction that she¡¯d just come, and Morgan, grinning wider than she ever had in her life, flicked her tail and pulled an abrupt about face, taking off after them.


    Now that she knew what to expect, she was ready. The next time she blew through the school of fish she reached out to grab one, and time seemed to narrow to a sharp point. The smaller creatures hung there, suspended before her as if they were frozen, until her hand closed around one and she pulled it in, pressing it tight against her chest and holding on with both hands.


    Time resumed and Morgan went tumbling end over end in the water as she lost focus on her swimming, her body becoming confused between what it wanted to do and what her brain tried to tell it to do. Eventually she slowed to a stop, unsure of which direction was up, and just hung there, feeling the fish squirming in her grasp and listening to her hammering heartbeat.


    ¡°H-huh¡­¡± she, for lack of a better word, gasped out, feeling the water being drawn across her gills, and let out a laugh. Then, she let out another. ¡°H-ha¡­ hahah¡­ ahahaha!¡± Soon, she was full on cackling, holding the fish out in front of her, staring into its glassy eyes. That was so fun! A little easy, if she was being honest, but fun! In a matter of seconds she¡¯d managed to catch a fish with her bare hands, and these fish were tiny. She knew there were other fish out there too; bigger, stronger, faster fish, ones that would really put her new body to test, and she was suddenly very eager to see if she could find any.


    But, she reminded herself, if she wanted more opportunities to do this, she had to perform well, to impress Balthazar and Captain Molly, and right now she only had a single fish, still weakly struggling in her hands.


    ¡°R-right, stay focused!¡± she said to herself as she guided the fish down to the baskets she wore around her hips, feeding it into the little slotted opening at the top of one, just like Poppy had shown her. The lids had narrow openings and a small flap that opened inward but would not open outward, preventing the fish from escaping once inside.


    Lifting her head, Morgan located the school of copper mackerels again after a few moments. They had fled a considerable distance from her, but not far enough that she couldn¡¯t catch up, and in less than thirty seconds she was upon them again. She passed through the school and, this time, held out both hands, coming out the other end with two fish instead of just one. She wasn¡¯t about to try catching a third with her mouth, not because she didn¡¯t think she could, but because she was pretty sure her teeth wouldn¡¯t leave enough behind for Balthazar to use. She also wasn¡¯t eager to find out what biting into a live fish tasted like. Sure, she¡¯d enjoyed sushi before, but that was a far cry from just chomping into a whole fish, scales and guts and blood and¡­


    ¡°Blegh, no thanks¡­¡± Morgan said, putting the other two fish in her basket with the third. The extra weight all on one side made swimming feel a little awkward, but she wanted to keep all the fish from the same school together. She didn¡¯t know if that exactly helped, and they were planning to eat these fish later anyway, but she didn¡¯t see any harm in it. She dove through again, increasing the total to five, wondering just how many Balthazar wanted her to bring back.


    She turned to take at least one more pass at the school, but just as she was about to start swimming, a dark shape descended from above and sliced through the panicked mass of copper-scaled fish.


    Literally. The large fish, looking to be about as long as Morgan was tall, had used the two foot long metallic blade growing out of its face to cut neatly through several of the copper mackerels in one swipe. As Morgan looked on, stunned, it deftly diced the remains with two more quick slashes before it and a second fish with a similar blade-like growth appeared and began to devour the scattered bits of meat.


    ¡°Uh oh¡­¡±


    Morgan hadn¡¯t had time to read the entire passage on bladefish while she¡¯d been hastily getting dressed, but she did remember Poppy telling her they were dangerous. Even if they were smaller than swordfish on Earth, which could grow up to fourteen feet long, these fish had actual swords on their faces.


    Glancing around, not wanting to take her eyes off the feeding bladefish for too long, Morgan realized in her excitement to chase down the copper mackerels that she¡¯d strayed much further away from the group than she realized. She began to swim backwards, a casual backstroke that kept the bladefish in sight, until she realized she could pick up snatches of voices in the water and, more interestingly, smell Poppy¡¯s distinctive chemical scent.


    ¡°...see which way she went¡­¡±


    ¡°...take care of herself, we need¡­¡±


    ¡°...can¡¯t go until we¡ªoh! There she is, Morgan, hey, over here, quick!¡±


    Morgan peeked over her shoulder. The other three were gathered close together against the edge of a rocky outcropping, Omiya waving her arms and tendrils for her attention. Flipping over, Morgan flexed her tail once and shot towards them, having to use her hands to slow herself down so she didn¡¯t crash into Poppy.


    ¡°H-hey there,¡± Morgan said sheepishly after she arrived. ¡°Sorry for disappearing without saying anything, I kind of got carried away there.¡±


    ¡°Y¡¯don¡¯t say,¡± the silver-scaled man said, grinning, a bit of red misting off his sharp teeth as he spoke. ¡°Least there weren¡¯t any nets for ya to run into this time.¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up, Zaak,¡± Omiya said, rolling her huge orb-like eyes before swimming up to meet Morgan, inspecting her as she circled. ¡°Don¡¯t mind him, he¡¯s just scared you¡¯re going to show him up and he won¡¯t get as much time to slack off while pretending to hunt anymore.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called settin¡¯ up a proper ambush, and it ain¡¯t that much different from what you do,¡± Zaak shot back, bringing a claw up to his mouth and picking at something between his teeth. ¡°Besides, don¡¯t think I forgot about that time I caught ya sleepin¡¯ while pretendin¡¯ to be a pile of ropes.¡±


    Omiya opened her beak and stuck out a far-too-long tongue at Zaak while giggling.


    Morgan chuckled along nervously and shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think you have anything to worry about there, you¡¯ve probably been doing this a lot longer than me.¡±


    ¡°Now she¡¯s callin¡¯ me old, too,¡± Zaak said, chuckling even harder at Morgan¡¯s worried expression. ¡°Don¡¯t lose yer scales over it, lass, I¡¯m just yankin¡¯ yer tail. Didya at least catch somethin¡¯ while ya were out there?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah, I managed to catch a few copper mackerels,¡± Morgan said, patting the baskets at her hips. ¡°But, uh, I came back because a couple of bladefish showed up.¡±


    That knocked the grin off of Zaak¡¯s face.


    ¡°A couple? As in, more¡¯n one of ¡®em?¡± he asked, grimacing.


    ¡°Y-yeah, two of them, one cut up a bunch of the fish and then it and a second one started eating,¡± Morgan said, pointing back the way she¡¯d come.


    ¡°That¡¯s not good,¡± Omiya said, shaking her bulbous head. When Morgan looked questioningly at her, she pointed up. Morgan followed her finger and spotted it; another large, dark shape, circling overhead like a deep sea vulture. Another bladefish, and this time it was bigger than her, almost ten feet long, with darker sand-colored scales as opposed to the slate-gray colored scales the other two had had. In place of a sword, it had a huge curved axe blade jutting vertically out of the center of its face.


    ¡°We had to stop what we were doing because that one showed up,¡± Omiya explained, huffing grumpily. ¡°If you say there¡¯s two more over there, then we¡¯ll probably have to return to the ship early.¡±


    ¡°Are they really that dangerous?¡± Morgan asked, earning another gruff laugh from Zaak.


    ¡°Maybe not fer you, but the rest of us ain¡¯t fast enough to outswim those bastards if they decide to have a go,¡± he said, glancing up at the still circling axe-bladed fish. It didn¡¯t look like it was coming any closer.


    ¡°We should be reasonably safe if there are only three of them,¡± Poppy said calmly. ¡°Bladefish tend not to attack anything as big or bigger than them without the advantage of numbers. We will have to move slowly, to not be separated, but as long as more do not appear, we should be¡­¡±


    Poppy trailed off as the single large shadow overhead was joined by two more, the pair that Morgan had seen earlier, one with a long straight blade and one with a large curved blade.


    ¡°Ah, well, yes, as I was saying, we should still start heading for the ship,¡± Poppy said. Morgan agreed, not at all eager to end up on the receiving end of any of those creatures'' attention. ¡°Omiya is the slowest, so she will set the pace. I will position myself behind her, to intercept if they begin to close, the two of you take the flanks.¡±


    On Poppy¡¯s orders, the group arranged themselves into a loose circle around Omiya and began to swim towards the slightly far-off shape of the ship while, as predicted, the bladefish began to follow, if at a distance.


    After a moment of swimming, something occurred to Morgan, and she gave voice to her concerns.


    ¡°Wait, this doesn¡¯t feel right,¡± Morgan said, turning her head to meet Poppy¡¯s eyes. ¡°If we¡¯re worried about them attacking, shouldn¡¯t I be the one in the way? I don¡¯t want to sound like I¡¯m bragging or anything, but I am the biggest one here, and I¡¯ve got claws.¡±


    Poppy regarded her for a moment, swimming in that same snake-like, undulating method that Morgan had seen the night before. While her needle-like teeth and tail were likely capable of doing some damage, she lacked the sharp claws that Morgan and Zaak had, and Morgan could see that she understood that.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± Poppy said after another moment, rising up to swap places with Morgan, allowing her to take the place at the back of their formation. ¡°But I will still remain within range to assist if needed.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Morgan said, giving Poppy a broad grin and a thumbs up.


    The group continued to swim, with Morgan and Zaak taking turns keeping their eyes trained on the trio of bladefish as they followed. They had stuck close to the seafloor to avoid inviting attacks from above and below, so while they were closing in on the ship, it was still several hundred feet above them. When they had gotten close enough that it seemed like they would have to start ascending, Morgan spoke up again.


    ¡°Wait, wait,¡± she said, and the group slowed, Poppy and Zaak immediately checking on the still trailing bladefish. They hadn¡¯t moved any closer, but they also hadn¡¯t let them get too far away either.


    ¡°What is it now?¡± Zaak asked impatiently.


    ¡°Are we¡­ just going to leave like this?¡± Morgan asked, furrowing her brow. ¡°I mean¡­ couldn¡¯t we try to¡­ catch one of them?¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Omiya demanded shrilly, rounding on Morgan, beak agape. Zaak¡¯s only response was to sigh and palm his forehead. Behind her, Morgan was dimly aware that since they¡¯d stopped, the smaller two bladefish had spread out to either side and begun to circle, while the axe-bladed fish just swam back and forth at the edge of an invisible bubble around them.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that why we¡¯re down here in the first place? I mean, sure, they¡¯re scary-looking, but they¡¯re still just fish, right?¡± Morgan asked, putting on a grin. ¡°And they¡¯re certainly no match for our intellect!¡±


    ¡°Speak fer yerself,¡± Zaak said dryly.


    Morgan bit her lip and turned to look at Poppy, who seemed to nominally be the one calling the shots. She didn¡¯t want to say that the real reason she was so against leaving this early was because she only had five fish in her basket, and didn¡¯t want her first time hunting to end in failure. She hoped the face she showed Poppy looked serious and determined instead of nervous and slightly guilty.


    Morgan¡¯s heart fell as Poppy shook her head.


    ¡°It would be too dangerous. Omiya is too vulnerable alone, Zaak is not strong enough to engage them in a head on fight, and I am¡­ not fast enough to outrun them should we lose the upper hand. Only you would be capable of fighting one of them head on, but if you attempted it all three of them would converge on you.¡±


    Poppy¡¯s explanation was smart, it was extremely reasonable, and Morgan could understand her not wanting to risk any of them getting seriously hurt over some fish. But there was one thing that stuck out as odd to Morgan.


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re not fast enough?¡± she asked, tilting her head. ¡°I saw you swim last night, you¡¯re pretty fast, are you sure¡­¡±


    Morgan trailed off as she saw Poppy shake her head again and cross her arms. ¡°Thank you, Miss Morgan, but I am afraid I am not capable of performing up to those standards at the moment,¡± she said, not meeting Morgan¡¯s stare, keeping her eyes on the bladefish as they encircled the group.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Morgan asked, tilting her head. On either side of her, Zaak chuckled and Omiya put a tendril to her forehead. What? Was that a rude question or something?


    ¡°Because I have not had¡­ I have not yet consumed¡­¡± Poppy began to explain, but trailed off quickly, hunching her shoulders tightly.


    Zaak scoffed, all too eager to pick up where Poppy left off. ¡°She¡¯s tryna say she ain¡¯t sucked down any blood today.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to say it like that, you pile of chum!¡± Omiya chided Zaak, reaching across the water to begin pelting him with her two largest tendrils while he laughed and batted her way.


    ¡°Ooooh,¡± Morgan said with dawning realization, glancing from the squabbling ball of fins and tentacles that was Zaak and Omiya, to Poppy, who had now turned all the way away from her, so far she had almost turned her entire back on the rest of the group. ¡°Oh, so, you were able to swim that fast because you¡¯d had some of my blood earlier? That makes sense.¡±


    Well, it kind of made sense, to Morgan anyway. She had thought Poppy was a vampire at first, and in a lot of stories vampires did grow stronger from feeding, but it was interesting that that applied to the leech girl as well.


    ¡°Well, if that¡¯s all it takes, couldn¡¯t you just take some now?¡± Morgan offered.


    A few feet away, Zaak and Omiya¡¯s fighting came to a screeching halt, and the two of them turned their heads as one, staring at Morgan while they floated awkwardly in place. Poppy, her shoulders hunched up so high it looked like she was trying to make her head disappear into her chest, finally returned Morgan¡¯s gaze. Her own eyes were wide, her mouth hanging slightly open, and her cheeks were glowing. Literally, Morgan realized; Poppy¡¯s cheeks were lit up with a faint red light that only intensified as she drifted closer.


    ¡°Woah¡­¡± Morgan whispered, only to realize too late that whispering probably wasn¡¯t a thing when you were speaking underwater via unknown means. That thought was driven home by the way Poppy clapped her hands over her cheeks and turned away again.


    ¡°I do not need¡­ I c-could not ask you to¡ª¡± Poppy¡¯s voice quavered, the volume fluctuating as she struggled to form a coherent response, but Morgan just shook her head.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask me to do anything, I¡¯m the one offering. If it¡¯ll let you hunt better and help me take down one of these things, I¡¯d gladly give up however much blood you need. It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t have plenty to spare,¡± Morgan pressed, letting out a lighthearted chuckle.


    Hesitantly, Poppy turned back to Morgan. Her cheeks were still alight, and she seemed to be looking several inches to the left of Morgan¡¯s head.


    ¡°The wound would not close quickly in the water. There would be risk of infection, and the blood may attract even more predators as well¡­¡± Poppy mumbled, and Morgan felt a grin spread across her face.


    ¡°Well then it¡¯s a good thing you¡¯ve got me here,¡± Morgan said, pointing towards herself with thumb.


    Aaaagh, damnit! Why couldn¡¯t I ever have been this smooth and confident back on Earth!


    ¡°D¡¯you two wanna find a cave or somethin¡¯?¡± Zaak called from behind.


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Omiya snapped, followed by a pained groan from Zaak.


    Morgan ignored them and held up her arm, smiling while Poppy studied her face. Finally, she sighed, motioning Morgan closer with a wave.


    ¡°It would not do to re-open the old wounds, give me your other arm,¡± Poppy said, regaining some of her familiar professionalism, though her cheeks still glowed. ¡°Mister Zaak, Navigator Omiya, cease staring at us and keep your eyes on the bladefish.¡±


    Morgan obeyed, swimming closer and holding out her right arm instead. Poppy maneuvered herself until she was floating horizontally and grabbed the offered arm, turning it over so the lighter-toned underside was facing up. With one last glance up at Morgan for confirmation, she lowered her head and opened her mouth, sinking her teeth into a meaty portion of Morgan¡¯s upper forearm.


    Just like the first time, Morgan barely felt anything, other than her own suddenly rapidly beating heart. While she could put on a convincing enough air of confidence, she was still in way, way over her head, and she knew it. There was a pretty girl who was also a giant walking leech, latched onto her arm, sucking her blood, and she had asked for it.


    What has my life come to¡­


    Despite knowing she also ought to be watching out for the bladefish too, Morgan couldn¡¯t help but stare at Poppy as she drank. She gaped in open fascination as the glowing spots on Poppy¡¯s cheeks were joined by matching rows of red rings spreading down from her neck and back, continuing along the length of her body, all the way down to the tip of her tail. After about thirty seconds, Poppy pulled away, her mouth open wide in a satisfied smile, her eyes half-lidded. Her mouth opened, releasing a small red cloud, which she quickly ¡°inhaled¡± while a larger twin began to form around Morgan¡¯s still outstretched arm. Just as last night, Poppy maneuvered her tail over her shoulder, the tip opening to encompass the bleeding ring of teeth marks she¡¯d left behind. A cool sensation tickled Morgan¡¯s skin, and Poppy used her hands to quickly rub a glob of clear goop into her wound.


    ¡°T-thank you¡­¡± Poppy muttered, still unable to meet Morgan¡¯s eyes again, focusing intently on her task instead.


    ¡°Anytime,¡± Morgan said, smiling crookedly. She tried to keep focused, but between Poppy¡¯s cold hands gliding across her skin and the blood she was now breathing, that proved difficult. She found that as soon as her blood had entered the water, she had become hyper aware of it through an odd mixture of both taste and smell that was impossible to separate into a single sense.


    ¡°By the tides!¡±


    Morgan finally looked away, finding Omiya staring at her and Poppy with a look of glee on her face. Or, she assumed that¡¯s what Omiya¡¯s open beak and frantically wriggling cheek tendrils meant, especially since she had both her hands balled into fists under her chin and was letting out a series of squeaking sounds.


    ¡°Are we near a volcanic vent, because these waters are getting hot!¡± Omiya squealed, voice momentarily shrill enough to make Morgan wince.


    ¡°Eugh¡­¡± Zaak said, making an exaggerated noise of disgust, his eyes still focused on the bladefish. ¡°Yer s¡¯pposed to be keepin¡¯ watch with me, ¡®Miya. If the two a¡¯ ya are finished, that blood is gonna spread fast, so whatever we¡¯re gonna do, we should do it soon.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, we should prepare. Navigator Omiya can most easily hide and disengage if anything happens, relinquish your baskets to her so they will not encumber you,¡± Poppy said, already untying the ropes holding the woven baskets to her hips and slipping the larger one off her back. Morgan followed suit along with Zaak, and Omiya accepted the extra baskets with her arms and tendrils, then began to shift colors again, her body appearing to become translucent.


    ¡°Miss Morgan, you will lead the offensive,¡± Poppy continued at her back, pointing at each bladefish in turn as she explained, ¡°the smaller two may flee immediately if you feign an attack on them, but the larger female is more aggressive, and may think it has a chance if it can corner you alone. Mister Zaak, use the seaweed for cover and try to stay on Morgan¡¯s tail. Once you¡¯ve engaged with one or more of them, we will move to support and I will attempt to tranquilize one. Understood?¡±


    ¡°Aye!¡± Zaak barked, already diving down into the thick mass of seaweed below them.


    ¡°Got it!¡± Morgan said, turning to stare down the largest of the bladefish. Despite the distance, she could tell it was returning the favor, eyeing her up, but still too wary to approach even with her blood dispersing further and further through the water with every second. Morgan tried to steel her nerves for what she was about to do. What was she thinking? She wasn¡¯t some kind of badass seafaring hunter who wrestled sharks with her bare hands! But the others were counting on her. Poppy was counting on her.


    Brought back to life in another world just to get myself killed again trying to impress a cute girl, huh? Well, I guess there are worse ways to go¡­


    With adrenaline already coursing through her veins, Morgan bared her teeth at the axe-bladed monster in front of her.


    Then, she whipped around, locating the smallest of the bladefish, the one with the straight blade. She flicked her tail and shot forwards, the motion as easy as breathing now. The bladefish saw her barreling towards it, clawed hands outstretched, and promptly turned tail and fled in the opposite direction.


    Emboldened, Morgan let out a laugh and flipped around, repeating the move on the other smaller fish, the one with the curved blade. It too did not hold out for even a second before it began to scurry away from her at top speed.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Morgan barked after it.


    ¡°Behind you!¡± Poppy¡¯s voice called, and Morgan flipped over again, finding the axe-bladed fish mere feet away and bearing down on her. Kicking her legs and arching her back, she curved her body up and to the side, dodging the bladefish¡¯s downward swipe with inches to spare.


    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t!¡± Morgan shouted, reaching out as the fish tried to continue past her after its missed attack. She managed to grasp it at the last second and dig her claws into the thick trunk of its tail, holding on tight while it thrashed and dragged her forward in its efforts to free itself.


    The oversized fish dragged her for several meters in a frantic zig-zag before straightening out and pulling her past a large algae-covered boulder, and she felt the movement in the water before she saw it out of the corner of her eye. The bladefish with the straight blade had emerged from behind the boulder and was now charging straight at her, the tip of its razor-sharp snout pointed directly at her face. Before she even had time to react, the seaweed parted and Zaak launched himself upwards with the speed of a bullet, catching the approaching bladefish¡¯s throat with his teeth.


    Stunned by the momentary certainty that she was about to be impaled, Morgan¡¯s grip on the axe-bladed fish slipped and it shot forward out of her grasp, fleeing from what it now fully recognized as a fight it could not win. Morgan, determined not to let another cocky fish get the better of her, took off in pursuit. She could catch up to it, but she wasn¡¯t entirely sure if she was capable of bringing it to a stop without ripping it to shreds.


    Instead, she overtook the axe-faced fish and then spun to face it, swiping her claws and snapping her teeth. As expected, it turned again, and she herded it back in what she hoped was the direction the others were still waiting. She could see past it, making out Zaak dragging the now still straight-bladed fish towards Poppy. Recognizing the chance Morgan was presenting her, Poppy shot forward, arms pinned to her sides and her legs pressed together, moving like a serpent. She bore down on the bladefish from the front, the red rings on her body glowing brighter as she cut through the water.


    With its escape route once again cut off, the bladefish turned sharply and broke to the right, which cost it precious speed it could not spare. Morgan caught up to it a second ahead of Poppy, turning her body at the last moment to drive her shoulder into the fish¡¯s side before wrapping both arms and legs around it and clinging onto it tightly. Now held in place, the bladefish could not swim straight or shake Morgan off, and Poppy was able to descend on it, flipping end over end and striking its side with her tail. The mouthlike opening latched on for only a moment before drawing back, and Morgan immediately felt the fish¡¯s struggles begin to slow, and eventually cease entirely.


    For several seconds, Morgan hung suspended in the water, clutching an unconscious fish and just listening to the sound of her heart hammering in her chest. The grin on her face was so wide it almost hurt, and she didn¡¯t seem able to make it go away. Her eyes roamed over the length of her prize, marveling at its size. It was indeed longer than she was tall by almost three feet, and heavier than she expected, even in the water. While she caught her metaphorical breath, she took in the details of the bladefish¡¯s body; its scales, the color of sandstone, the gradual change from flesh to solid metal where the axe blade began to sprout from the two halves of its face, and the tiny nicks and notches she could now see on said blade as she examined it closer.


    I wonder how they keep them sharp, she thought as she traced the blade¡¯s curved edge with her eyes. Probably similar to how birds do it, by scraping their beaks on rocks and other rough surfaces.


    ¡°Y¡¯better take that from her before she decides to take a bite outta it.¡±


    The voice drew her out of her contemplations and she looked up to find Zaak and Poppy floating a few feet away. Zaak had the corpse of the other bladefish slung over his shoulder, its throat missing entirely. Morgan was uncomfortably aware of the smell and taste of the blood it was leaking into the water. She thought she might gag, but instead it only made her think of her breakfast, and how the only meat it had consisted of was a single slice of salted pork. She was getting hungry, she realized, and now that Zaak had mentioned it, maybe she could get away with just a little nibble. Would Balthazar even notice?


    ¡°Huh?¡± Morgan said, blinking her eyes a few times, realizing how close her face had gotten to the still living bladefish¡¯s underbelly. She shook her head and pulled away, trying to fan the water and clear it of some of the taste or smell or¡­ smelltaste of blood. That was possibly something to be concerned about; would enough blood in the water send her into some kind of feeding frenzy? From the way Zaak was hanging just a bit further back than seemed necessary, Morgan suspected that was a possibility. She needed to hurry up and reassure them. ¡°U-uh, I wouldn¡¯t do that! I was just examining it, I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve never seen one this close up before, that¡¯s all!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what they all say¡­¡± Zaak chuckled, grinning through his own mouth of bloodied teeth.


    Poppy, for her part, approached without hesitation, and Morgan saw she was also smiling.


    ¡°That was so¡­ ah, that is, you performed admirably, Mo¡ªMiss Morgan,¡± Poppy said, catching herself several times. It seemed like she was having a bit of a hard time keeping up her more formal mode of speech with how pleased she was at their success.


    ¡°Thanks, but all I did was chase it down, you¡¯re the one who knocked it out,¡± Morgan said, deftly deflecting some of the praise back onto Poppy, whose cheeks flared for her efforts. She smiled, switching to holding the limp bladefish over one shoulder.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, you two can flirt when we¡¯re back on the ship!¡± Omiya said, materializing from the seaweed, still clinging tightly to everyone¡¯s baskets.


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s make waves before somethin¡¯ even bigger can show up,¡± Zaak said, already rising towards the surface, dragging the smaller bladefish with him.


    Poppy ignored Omiya¡¯s comment and cleared her throat, swimming up to help shoulder some of the burden of the axe-bladed fish. ¡°That would be wise. Let us go.¡±


    ¡°Still, that was exciting, huh?¡± Omiya chirped cheerfully. ¡°I forgot what it was like to have someone crazy enough to take on the more nasty fish.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah, with Yami gone¡ª¡± Zaak started to say something, but for once seemed to think better of it without Omiya needing to yell at him. Morgan didn¡¯t know who ¡°Yami¡± was, but from the look Omiya shot Zaak before glancing back at Poppy, and the way the name had made Poppy¡¯s face fall, Morgan was pretty sure there was some unspoken history there. She knew better than to ask, especially because she didn¡¯t want Poppy¡¯s good cheer to evaporate entirely, so she did the only thing she could do, and ignored Zaak¡¯s slip entirely.


    The trip up passed mostly in silence after that. Zaak and Omiya swam a few feet ahead of Morgan and Poppy with their heavier catch, Omiya clearly trying to admonish Zaak without actually using words. It was probably pretty hard to have a private conversation underwater, what with the way sound traveled.


    ¡°Thanks again for your help,¡± Morgan finally said, when they were about fifty meters from the surface. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have brought this thing down without your help.¡±


    Poppy seemed to find that amusing, the way she smiled and shook her head. ¡°That is untrue, you easily caught up to it twice without my assistance, it would have been trivial for you to subdue it alone.¡±


    ¡°Okay, sure, but not without tearing it to ribbons,¡± Morgan said with a smirk. ¡°But because of you we¡¯ll be able to deliver it almost completely untouched.¡±


    Poppy raised her eyes again, her faintly glowing eyes studying Morgan closely.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Poppy said, coming to some conclusion in her head but keeping it to herself. ¡°Then, if you would allow me, I could teach you how to deliver fatal strikes to most smaller sea creatures.¡±


    Oh, that sounded pretty useful! If a little bit grim. Morgan¡¯s smile widened again, and she nodded.


    ¡°I would like that very much,¡± Morgan said, then braced herself, as they had finally reached the surface again.


    Morgan¡¯s head broke through the waves and she emerged into the sunlight, mouth open as though to gasp for air. There was a momentary struggle when she did not, in fact, gulp down a lungful of cool ocean air, but instead continued to feel water rushing past her gills, then it was as if a switch had been flipped, and she inhaled deeply through her nose.


    That feels so weird, Morgan thought as she got used to breathing air again after more than an hour underwater. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering just how not just one species, but an entire race of sea creatures could evolve all the way up to being human equivalent while keeping both gills and lungs, two modes of respiration suited for entirely different environmental niches.


    They probably didn¡¯t, was Morgan¡¯s current method of keeping herself sane and ignoring the improbable things she saw. It was probably magic or something.


    Whether or not she seriously believed that, she couldn¡¯t say yet.


    The other three bobbed beside her, also beginning to work their lungs again and taking deep breaths, and eventually someone aboard the ship noticed their return and began calling out and waving. Morgan looked up and took in the ship, noticing something she¡¯d missed before they left. More than half of the sails had been stowed again, slowing the ship to make the eventual task of catching up and returning aboard easier.


    As the hunting party neared, more and more heads appeared, poking over the railing as word spread of their arrival. A pair of wood and rope ladders were slung over the side of the ship for them to climb, while ropes with grappling hooks were tossed down, which Omiya slung the fishing baskets onto. Upon seeing the size of the bladefish Morgan had draped across her shoulders, a call went up for even more rope, and within seconds the end of one was tossed down to her.


    With Poppy¡¯s help to hold the fish steady, Morgan looped the rope around the end of the axe-faced bladefish¡¯s tail, tying a quick bowline knot and pulling it tight before giving those waiting up top a thumbs up, then joining the others as they ascended the ladders.


    Landing on the deck, Morgan found not just Balthazar waiting for her, but what must have been half the crew or more, gathered in a loose semicircle. Four oversized barrels filled with water waited, along with a long wooden crate that had been, somehow, filled with ice. Before anyone could say anything, Balthazar looked up from submerging their baskets into the waiting barrels, turning to face them with an unreadable expression on his stern face.


    The larger bladefish was sprawled out on the deck beside its smaller counterpart, and there was naked amazement on the faces of the crew as Balthazar knelt before them. Morgan watched as the man placed a hand on the sandy scales of the axe-faced fish, the other going to his belt.


    ¡°Mmmh¡­ fully grown, excellent color, unharmed save a few scratches by the tail¡­still alive, even¡­¡± Balthazar muttered, mostly to himself, pulling an object from his belt. It consisted of a handle with holes for the chef¡¯s thick fingers to slip through, like a pair of brass knuckles, but with a thin, narrow spike protruding from the center like an ice pick. Lifting the bladefish¡¯s head slightly, Balthazar placed the tip of the spike to a particular point above its eye. With practiced ease, he plunged the tip in and drew it back, and Morgan had to hold back a gasp as the fish¡¯s entire body jerked, its tail lifting once and its mouth opening wide.


    What was that?! It took Morgan only a second to figure it out, of course. Balthazar had pierced the fish¡¯s brain, killing it instantly. Morgan, still a little shaken, wondered if that had any overlap with what Poppy had promised to teach her.


    ¡°Well,¡± Balthazar grunted as he stood, hauling the now dead bladefish up and into the large crate of ice. It didn¡¯t fit, not entirely, it¡¯s head and tail slightly hanging off the edges. ¡°I can¡¯t lie, I was not expectin¡¯ ya to bring back somethin¡¯ this impressive on yer first go, but I ain¡¯t exactly surprised neither.¡±


    ¡°O-oh, it wasn¡¯t just me,¡± Morgan protested, hastily putting her hands up. She nodded to Poppy, putting a hand on her shoulder. ¡°All I did was chase the thing, Poppy knocked it out.¡±


    Poppy, predictably, wilted from the attention while the crew made various noises of congratulations and cheer.


    ¡°Heh, aye, I did figure that from the way yers isn¡¯t in tatters,¡± Balthazar chuckled, lifting the smaller bladefish from the deck, where a small puddle of blood remained, spilled from its gaping neck wound. Morgan spent a second longer than she wanted to staring down at it before tearing her eyes away.


    ¡°A-ah, that was an emergency,¡± Morgan said, also turning to nod at Zaak. ¡°That one would have impaled me if Zaak hadn¡¯t intercepted it.¡± She gave the silver-scaled man a smile, scratching at the back of her head with a free hand. ¡°I still haven¡¯t thanked you for that, by the way.¡±


    There were laughs and more cheers from the crowd, and a few whoops even. Morgan could see Zaak trying to play off his reaction to her gratitude, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling, but the corners of his mouth refused to stop curling upward.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, jus¡¯ doin¡¯ my job!¡± he scoffed, and beside him Omiya did her clicking giggle, patting one of his shoulders with a tendril.


    Behind Balthazar, a few of the crew members Morgan thought she recognized as those who assisted him in the galley were going through the barrels that contained their baskets, pulling fish from them and doing something similar to what Balthazar had done to the bladefish, using their own spiked tools to pierce their foreheads before tossing them into the ice-filled crate. When one approached the barrel that Morgan¡¯s basket had gone into and reached inside, her eyes widened.


    ¡°Woah!¡± the woman, an elf with yellow skin freckled with brownish spots like a banana, gasped. ¡°Chef, there¡¯s copper mackerels in this one! A bunch of ¡®em!¡±


    Balthazar¡¯s eyebrow raised as he stalked across the deck to the indicated barrel, taking a peek inside. Beside Morgan, Zaak shifted, grinning sideways at her and grumbling under his breath.


    ¡°A few, huh?¡± he said with a chuckle.


    Balthazar counted the copper-scaled fish as he extracted them from Morgan¡¯s basket and spiked each one before placing it in the crate, and by the time he was finished Morgan felt like the entire crew had turned up. Red Molly had appeared from wherever it was she had been hiding, and Balthazar turned to her with a satisfied nod.


    ¡°Five copper mackerels, cap¡¯n,¡± he stated. More cheers from the crowd, even a few whistles. If it wasn¡¯t easy enough already for the entire ship to figure out who was responsible for such an apparently impressive haul by the way the other three members of the hunting party had turned to look at Morgan, she herself couldn¡¯t stop shuffling her feet and staring at the deck.


    ¡°I-is that a lot? What¡¯s the big deal?¡± Morgan tried to ask Poppy quietly, but that proved difficult with how noisy the deck was currently. ¡°They weren¡¯t even that hard to catch¡­¡±


    ¡°Not even that hard to catch!? Ya went missing for like five minutes and yer tellin¡¯ me that¡¯s all it took to catch nearly a half dozen copper mackerels¡± Zaak blurted out, throwing his hands into the air in exaggerated exasperation before laughing. ¡°Ugh, you could at least be a smug asshole about it so I could hate you properly!¡±


    The crew laughed along with Zaak, and Morgan felt her chest swirl with a complicated mix of emotions. She really hadn¡¯t been trying to brag, but she also didn¡¯t know anything about any of the fish they¡¯d been tasked to find, or what made the copper mackerels worth making such a fuss over. They¡¯d been fast, sure, but she¡¯d been faster, so she caught them easily, it was as simple as that.


    As the rest of their catches were tallied up, Morgan decided not to mention that. Zaak might throw himself overboard. Or her.


    Heavy-booted footfalls on wood preceded Red Molly as she approached Morgan, grinning wide.


    ¡°I knew I had a feelin¡¯ about you,¡± Red Molly said, clapping both hands onto Morgan¡¯s cheeks and briefly squeezing them before stepping back, throwing her arms wide. ¡°I was a little dubious when you were bold enough to claim your family name was actually ¡®Hunter,¡¯ but now I see that wasn¡¯t just bluster.¡± Red Molly chuckled, and Morgan blinked.


    It¡­ had not occurred to her until that very moment that occupational last names such as hers were not merely interesting little relics of history, but in fact meant to be literal active endorsements of her and her family¡¯s prowess. She almost felt faint as the realization hit her that she might as well have been going around saying ¡°Oh, me? I¡¯m great at hunting, in fact, ¡®Hunter¡¯ is my middle name!¡± and only by dumb luck and fortunate circumstances had she not wound up proving herself a completely clueless amateur.


    No one must ever know¡­


    ¡°Well!¡± Red Molly¡¯s shout and following clap drew Morgan out of her spiralling thoughts, and she stood up straight again as the captain addressed her and the rest of the hunting party. ¡°I¡¯d say the four of you have earned a bit of a break, so go enjoy some leisure time. As for the rest of you lot, back to work!¡±


    At Red Molly¡¯s command, the crowd dispersed. Gullen began shouting for the remaining sails to be unfurled again, while most of the crew returned below decks. Balthazar and his galley crew hauled away the crate of fish and ice, and the ship once again returned to normal operation.


    ¡°Oh, and Miss Hunter!¡±


    Morgan stopped at the edge of the stairs to the lower deck at Red Molly¡¯s call, turning back to her along with whoever had remained topside.


    ¡°You, especially, make sure to get plenty of rest, you¡¯ve still got a demonstration to put on later this evening!¡±


    Red Molly grinned and turned, taking the stairs to the helm two at a time and laughing to herself while Morgan stood by, her eyes wide, while all around her the deck erupted into curious muttering and sidelong glances. Before the captain could do any more damage, Morgan fled down into the bowels of the ship.


    ¡ö ¡ö


    (Continued in part 2)

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.9.2 (Morgan)

    (Continued from part 1)


    ¡ö ¡ö


    ¡°Uuuuuugh, why did she have to hype it up like that?¡± Morgan asked, sprawled on her side in the same bunk she¡¯d slept in the night before.


    ¡°Because Captain Molly adores nothing more than suspense and dramatics,¡± Poppy answered from across the room, quietly tending to her plants.


    They had returned to Poppy¡¯s room together, Poppy offering Morgan her condolences after Red Molly loudly and very publically dropped the hint that she¡¯d be putting on some kind of show later. There, in the quiet coziness of the well kept room, the last effects of the adrenaline fully faded and Morgan finally began to feel the aches in her muscles from all the swimming she¡¯d done, not to mention the near-impalement-experience.


    She had tumbled into the bunk while Poppy promised to brew them some tea that would help her relax and soothe both of their sore bodies.


    The compact metal kettle that Poppy had produced from a small crate now sat resting on a short table nearby, steeping and cooling after being brought to a boil over some kind of magic powered equivalent of bunsen burner. Poppy had explained the blend of leaves she¡¯d used, citing the bulk as being from the ¡°honey-moth¡± plant, with a small amount of ¡°serasflower¡± added, the former for muscle aches and the latter for relaxation.


    ¡°It should be ready now,¡± Poppy announced, setting down the tiny pair of clippers she¡¯d been using and removing her gloves. She crossed the room and knelt by the table, filling two small wooden cups with the now golden liquid.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Morgan said, sitting up and accepting her cup with both hands. While she hadn¡¯t felt all that affected by the chill of the deep ocean or the cool air on the surface, the warmth of the cup still felt wonderful as it spread from her fingertips. She spent a minute just sitting and holding her cup while occasionally sniffing the fragrant steam, trying to pinpoint the many scents. It did indeed smell mainly of honey, but there were also hints of something else, something floral that made her think of sliding into a steaming hot bath.


    Finally, she brought the cup to her lips and took a careful sip of the golden tea, groaning gratefully as she felt the warmth of it traveling down her throat to pool in her stomach before spreading through the rest of her body. It tasted like it smelled, light and sweet and like honey and sunshine, but with an aftertaste of that mysterious floral scent that cooled her tongue, almost like mint.


    ¡°This is really good¡­¡± Morgan breathed, hunched over her cup as she drank. Poppy, seated cross-legged opposite her, smiled, then tried to hide it behind her own cup.


    ¡°Ah, thank¡­ thank you,¡± Poppy replied somewhat shakily, her still faintly glowing eyes reflected in the surface of her tea. Morgan hadn¡¯t noticed until she¡¯d actively looked for them, but it seemed like the glowing dots on Poppy¡¯s body did not appear as brightly as before once she was out of the water, with only her eyes and cheeks lit up now.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you like it,¡± Poppy said, taking a quick sip and sighing through her nose. ¡°Most of the crew won¡¯t drink tea unless they absolutely have to, and it¡¯s nice to share it with someone who isn¡¯t only doing it because they¡¯re deathly ill or dying.¡±


    Morgan chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow. ¡°What, the big tough pirates can¡¯t handle a little tea?¡±


    The sound of Poppy¡¯s giggle at her dumb little joke was as soothing to Morgan¡¯s ears as the tea was to the rest of her body, and she found herself beaming as she took another sip.


    ¡°Well, some of them won¡¯t drink it because they think only Empire nobles and people from High Society drink tea,¡± Poppy said, not bothering to wipe the smile from her face or hide the way she rolled her eyes at that sentiment. ¡°I tried to tell them that tea has existed amongst every culture for thousands of years before the overprivileged few tried to convert it into a status symbol, but¡­¡± Poppy shook her head and shrugged dismissively.


    ¡°As soon as you''re finished, I want to examine you¡­ y-your arm, that is,¡± Poppy said, clearing her throat and sounding a little more serious. ¡°I need to clean out the wound and get it bandaged. I can''t believe I let you talk me into biting you in the water, that was much too reckless. Next time, we''ll do it well beforehand while we''re still aboard the ship, that way you won''t attract every sea beast within a hundred leagues.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll examine me as soon as I''m finished?¡± Morgan asked with an eyebrow raised, glancing from Poppy¡¯s confused face to the cup in her hands, and back again. Poppy didn''t seem to get it, until Morgan opened her mouth extra wide and began raising her cup towards it, at which point Poppys eyes widened and she shot up, reaching across the table towards Morgan.


    ¡°N-no, drink your tea properly! You have to savor it!¡± Poppy exclaimed, and Morgan lowered her cup again while grinning shamelessly. They shared another laugh, Poppy dropping back to the floor and sighing. ¡°Honestly¡­¡±


    Still smiling, Morgan eased herself back into the bunk, having to rest with her back slightly angled so she wasn''t leaning directly on her fin. She took another sip of her tea, taking a moment to do as Poppy said and savoring the flavors more deeply before she swallowed. She was definitely feeling a lot better, her muscle aches fading fast. For a few seconds, she just sat there and stared up at the ceiling, feeling content in a way she wasn''t sure she ever had before.


    Then, she lowered her eyes back to Poppy and smirked.


    ¡°You said ¡®next time.¡¯ Already looking forward to it, huh?¡±


    Poppy stared back at her, brow slightly furrowed. Morgan had been expecting, or perhaps hoping for, another reaction like the many she''d already gotten, a blush and a stammer while Poppy tried to explain herself, but this time she got no such thing.


    This time, it was Poppy¡¯s turn. The leech girl narrowed her eyes and let the corners of her thin lips curl up into a smile, exposing the tips of her pointed teeth.


    ¡°Well,¡± she spoke, without a hint of a tremor. ¡°You said ¡®anytime.¡¯ Of the two of us, I would think that makes you the more overeager.¡±


    Morgan felt her eyes widen, and when she opened her mouth to reply, only a strangled croak came out, something that hadn''t happened since back on Captain Silas¡¯ ship, when she¡¯d still been scared out of her mind.


    Poppy''s face broke, going from a small smoldering grin into a broad smile and she giggled into her hand.


    ¡°Let that be a lesson to you, Miss Morgan Hunter,¡± Poppy said smugly. ¡°If you continuously attempt the same attack, don''t be surprised when your opponent learns to parry.¡±


    ¡°I guess that was a little predictable of me,¡± Morgan admitted, chuckling sheepishly as her cheeks continued to burn. She cleared her throat and adopted an overly serious tone, bowing her head exaggeratedly low. ¡°You have bested me, and now I must admit my defeat.¡±


    Neither of them could keep a straight face after that, and once again they laughed together, and Poppy poured some more tea. Morgan found herself sinking back into the bunk again, letting the contentment from before wash over her completely.


    ¡°I feel like I could go for a nap,¡± Morgan said after a few quiet minutes.


    Poppy looked up from cleaning out her tea kettle and the cups. ¡°That would be the serasflower.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you mentioned that,¡± Morgan said, turning her head. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say that¡¯s what you use to knock people out when you sneak onto enemy ships?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Poppy said, a small smile on her face. ¡°Inducing drowsiness is one of the most notable features of the serasflower. I use a much stronger distillation of the plant''s essence for my sleeping poison, but it''s much more commonly used by those who find difficulty in falling asleep, for one reason or another.¡±


    Morgan lifted her eyebrows and nodded. ¡°Oh, it''s an insomnia cure? Interesting,¡± she said, rubbing a palm against her cheek and chuckling. ¡°Well, you know what they say: the difference between medicine and poison is in the dosage.¡±


    Poppy looked up from packing her tea set back into the padded crate she had pulled it from, humming slightly.


    ¡°Mmh, I like that, that is a good saying,¡± Poppy said with certainty. ¡°Now then, show me your arm.¡±


    Morgan sat up, extending her right arm while Poppy collected a few supplies; a tall, white glass bottle and a jar of reddish goop, a clean cloth, a roll of bandages, and a bucket. First warning Morgan ahead of time, she uncorked the bottle and poured some of the clear, bitter smelling liquid inside onto the rag, then pressed it to the small ring of teeth marks in Morgan¡¯s forearm, where it burned briefly as Poppy ran the rag back and forth several times, thoroughly scrubbing the area until the rag turned pink. Then, she dipped two fingers into the jar of goo and spread it across the bites, which immediately cooled the skin and scales it came into contact with. It smelled strongly of cherries, sour and astringent. Finally, Poppy wrapped the wound in a thin layer of bandages and tied them off tightly.


    The whole time, Morgan tried to keep her gaze fixed on Poppy¡¯s hands and the work she was doing with them, trying and failing to not sneak glances up at the other girl¡¯s determined face. Based on the amount of times they wound up catching each other''s eyes, Poppy seemed to be struggling in much the same way. It was a testament to her abilities and her composure that they remained cool and steady while Morgan¡¯s own hands began to twitch and feel clammy.


    ¡°T-thank you,¡± Morgan said when her arm was freed, leaning back into the bunk¡¯s alcove again.


    ¡°You are welcome¡­ Miss Morgan,¡± Poppy replied, tidying up her supplies.


    Morgan wanted to say something. She thought Poppy might say something. In the end, both said nothing.


    After that, Poppy returned to her work, checking in on her plants again before moving on to working on some alchemy. At least, Morgan assumed it was alchemy, when Poppy took some berries from one of her plants and crushed them with a mortar and pestle, then began combining that with other ingredients she had pulled from her cabinet of supplies. Morgan, tipping over and laying down on her side, just watched in quiet fascination for as long as she could, wondering if she could ask Poppy to teach her a little about alchemy too, since she was already teaching her so much. She imagined them as something like lab partners, sitting together hunched over a notebook, staying awake deep into the night going over each other''s notes, until¡­ until¡­


    Until Morgan¡¯s eyes began to feel heavy, and she drifted off to sleep.


    ¡ö ¡ö


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m doing this,¡± Morgan grumbled, half to herself, half to Poppy, who stood nearby as Morgan leaned against the railing at the stern of the ship, staring out at the ocean spread out before her. Behind them, the commotion of the still-growing crowd was a constant reminder of the ordeal that was to come.


    ¡°Actually, I can,¡± Morgan corrected herself. ¡°I¡¯ve only known her for a day but I can confidently say ¡®this is so her.¡¯¡±


    Poppy snickered quietly under her hood.


    ¡°I am sorry,¡± she said sympathetically. ¡°If you truly do not wish to proceed with the demonstration, you need only say so.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Morgan said, sighing. ¡°I¡¯ve performed in front of much bigger crowds than this, but I had a lot more time to prepare then.¡± She¡¯d seen the whole crew gathered last night, for her oath-swearing ceremony, and it consisted of only about fifty or so people. Compared to a packed gymnasium plus a table full of judges, this was nothing.


    ¡°Oh, I see, that is good then,¡± Poppy said, sounding more than a little surprised, even though her overly formal persona, which she¡¯d reapplied as soon as they¡¯d left her room again. ¡°I can not say that I am not also eager to see your skills on display, especially after that small glimpse I caught.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that?¡± Morgan said with a chuckle. ¡°That wasn¡¯t judo, that was just a little bit of karate. Modern judo doesn¡¯t really have a lot of strikes left in it, since they¡¯re banned on the sport and professional level, but my sensei, er, my teacher, wanted me to be a little more well prepared if I ever got into any real danger I couldn¡¯t run away from.¡±


    Morgan smiled as she thought back to the few ¡°extra credit¡± lessons in basic punches, kicks, and blocks she¡¯d been given by her sensei. She was often left waiting to get picked up until well after everyone else had already left, so her teacher had taken to giving her extra drills to help pass the time. Going through the old familiar motions again had helped her keep calm, but left her in a bit of a somber mood. Another person from home she was going to miss.


    After her nap, which only lasted about two hours according to Poppy, Morgan had awoken feeling refreshed and energized, alone in the sick bay. Curious, but far too worried about getting caught, she resisted the urge to snoop around and instead split her time between stretching, lightly warming up, and thinking over how exactly she was going to show off her judo. In that time she realized, embarrassingly belatedly, that she had failed to consider several fairly important details about her new anatomy.


    She had a triangular-shaped dorsal fin jutting out from the middle of her back, and a three foot long tail as thick around as a small tree hanging off her waist.


    She had already discovered that the fin and tail prevented her from sleeping on her back in an ordinary bed, but it had finally occurred to her that they might also get in the way of any moves that required her to use her back. She was fortunate that her new build had made her shoulders broad enough and wide enough that she could reasonably avoid jostling her fin while pulling off most throws, but it did mean she would have to be very careful not to land directly on her back when falling or tumbling. On the other hand, she did feel like her balance was much more unshakable with the extra weight of her tail behind her, and she felt like if she practiced enough with it she might be able to use it as a bludgeon, or to knock someone¡¯s legs out from under them, but she wasn¡¯t about to try either of those things until she¡¯d tested them thoroughly. She spent most of her time mentally running through all the forms she could and adjusting them to take her fin and tail into account, then moved on to practicing her strikes, which led to the next much delayed revelation.


    Morgan had claws too! She couldn¡¯t close her fist all the way without risking puncturing her palms with the sharp claws that topped each of her fingers, which meant she could not actually throw any punches. She considered that something of a shame, as it meant all that effort that had gone into teaching her how to throw a proper punch in preparation for a real fight would go to waste without her ever having punched a single person. Well, she reasoned, at least she could still deliver one hell of a palm strike, and knife hands were still on the table as well. Elbows, knees, and headbutts were still viable too, but she would have to be very careful of pokes; she did not want to accidentally blind anyone or jab them in the neck with her claws.


    All this and more had consumed her thoughts for the remainder of the afternoon, so much so that she missed Poppy¡¯s return to the room until she made an impressed ¡°Ooh!¡± and began quietly and politely golf clapping after Morgan finished her last set. She had been embarrassed, but the look of delight on the other girl¡¯s face had been worth it.


    And here she was again, entirely missing what Poppy was saying because she was caught up in her thoughts, and looking at her face.


    ¡°Sorry, what?¡± Morgan said, flushing and refocusing her eyes on Poppy¡¯s own.


    Blinking, Poppy let a small smile show before shaking her head. ¡°I was saying that the crew has been assembled and Red Molly has called for you.¡±


    ¡°Uuuugh¡­¡± Morgan groaned, rubbing her cheeks. ¡°Is it too late for me to jump ship and just swim away?¡±


    ¡°I am afraid so, Miss Morgan,¡± Poppy replied, sounding amused. ¡°You swore the oaths, after all.¡±


    ¡°Dang.¡± Morgan sighed, following Poppy as they crossed the helm, heading for the stairs. Ethan, the taciturn bird man who had been steering the ship while politely ignoring Morgan and Poppy¡¯s conversation, gave Morgan a nod as she passed.


    Standing at the head of the stairs that led back down to the main deck, Morgan saw that the entire crew had indeed been summoned, and were now spread across the wide-open central area between the main deck and the fore deck, seated on the railings or hanging from the ratlines. Surprisingly, she also saw that several square mats of woven green fibers had been retrieved and unrolled across the open area of the deck.


    At least they have some safety equipment on hand. That¡¯s a good sign, right?


    As one, the crew¡¯s heads swiveled in Morgan¡¯s direction when she appeared. Chief among them was Red Molly, perched jauntily atop the capstan with her legs crossed, her magenta curls bouncing as she turned her head to grin at Morgan.


    Sighing, Morgan descended the stairs with her eyes closed, breathing deeply to steady her nerves. She¡¯d done everything she could to prepare for this. She was ready. When she touched down onto the deck and opened her eyes, she returned the gazes of the entire pirate crew with her own determined glare.


    ¡°Alright¡­¡± she said quietly to herself, stepping past an even more excited looking Red Molly and placing herself in the center of the mat. It felt only slightly softer than the wood of the deck had been, but something was better than nothing.


    ¡°Alright!¡± Morgan said again, louder, to ensure everyone was paying attention. Everyone was. Good.


    ¡°I just want to¡­ temper some expectations here. I¡¯m going to show off a fighting style called ¡®judo.¡¯ I only studied it for two years, so I¡¯m hardly an expert, and it¡¯s not the most impressive looking or flashy martial art there is.¡± Morgan turned a slow circle as she explained, falling back on emulating her teacher and the way he¡¯d conducted his classes, even if the words were a bit different. ¡°I was taught it as a method of self-defense, but it¡¯s also a sport, er, well, it is where I came from.¡± She noticed the hilts of swords and daggers on the belts of the gathered crew members and quickly made another amendment. ¡°But keep in mind, this is a hand-to-hand style, so no weapons. I can disarm someone if I have to, but I¡¯d rather not risk anyone getting hurt, okay?¡± She got a collective nod and some mumbled words of agreement from the crowd and smiled. ¡°Good, I just wanted to get all that out of the way. I¡¯ll do my best to show you what I can do, but don¡¯t be disappointed if this isn¡¯t all that exciting, you can blame Captain Molly for that.¡±


    The crowd laughed as she pointed an accusatory finger at Red Molly, including Red Molly herself, who was now leaning forward in her seat with that unnerving, hungry look in her eyes. Her speech did not seem to quell any of the excitement she could see in the eyes of the crew, so Morgan just sighed and motioned with one of her hands.


    ¡°Okay, then, I just need a few volunteers to attempt to attack me, anyone who, uh, won¡¯t mind getting tossed around a little,¡± Morgan said, resigned. ¡°It¡¯s a spar, so we¡¯ll try not to hurt each other too badly, and you just try to take me down or force me to yield.¡±


    That caused a stir, and a brief outburst of noise as the crew discussed among themselves before four deckhands were pushed to the forefront, all of them almost as tall as Morgan, all of them looking stocky and well built. Two of them were fish-men with blue and black scales, one was an elf woman with lime green skin, and one was another of whatever Balthazar was, a broad man with pale skin, dark hair, and orange mushrooms growing from his shoulders.


    Had she still been her original height, Morgan would have been a lot more intimidated by these burly sailors, but now that she was looking down at them it was hard not to feel like she had nothing to fear, even if this were a serious fight. She pointed to the first of the blue-scaled sea dwellers.


    ¡°You, step forward,¡± she said, and the crowd oohed in anticipation. The man stepped forward, smirking at her and, predictably, cracking his knuckles. Morgan resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead continued to follow the more familiar script. She bowed at the waist, arms at her side, then took up her fighting stance; body slightly turned, right foot forward, right arm up, hands open and ready to grab. A hush fell over the watching crowd as she adopted the no doubt strange-looking pose.


    Taking that as his cue to attack, the blue-scaled man charged in, one fist already raised behind his head. She couldn¡¯t have asked for a better first attack, to show off how easily judo could be used to turn an overconfident attacker¡¯s momentum against them. She waited, keeping her weight balanced on her back foot until he closed the distance and began to swing his arm forward, then she shifted forwards, ducking under the punch and shooting her left hand up to catch the man by the elbow. She held on tight and dipped even lower, her right arm coming out and scooping the man¡¯s right leg out from under him, lifting him entirely off the ground and into what resembled a fireman¡¯s carry, then flipping him end over end off her other shoulder, causing him to hit the wooden deck with a weighty, meaty thump, flat on his back.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    It was a textbook ¡°kata guruma¡±. The shoulder wheel, and there was a reason it was so popular, since it was also basically the setup to a number of famous pro wrestling throws. A lot of the guys in her class had been very excited about that, so she¡¯d seen her teacher demonstrate it countless times.


    It was only after she¡¯d completed the throw herself that a final pair of realizations struck Morgan¡¯s mind. One, she had not fully come to appreciate just how much bigger and stronger this new body of hers was, and two, a thin woven mat was not a sufficient substitute for the padded mats of a dojo.


    ¡°Oh, geez, are you okay?!¡± Morgan asked in a slight panic, kneeling down over the groaning, blue-scaled man. His groan turned into a pained chuckle as he gripped at his right shoulder, and he cracked open one eye to peer up at her.


    ¡°Oh, aye, ah¡¯ll be jus¡¯ fine, soon as th¡¯deck stops spinnin¡¯,¡± he said through clenched teeth, and Morgan winced.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry, I¡¯m so sorry, I should have warned you first, I shouldn''t have used such a rough move,¡± Morgan said, gingerly helping the man sit up. She looked up for help, but most of the crew seemed to have frozen. Poppy, however, appeared across from her, taking the man¡¯s other arm and helping lift him to his feet.


    ¡°Heh!¡± the man choked out a laugh and shook his head. ¡°S¡¯my fault fer underestimatin¡¯ ya lass. I thought, with that silly pose a yers¡­ well, showed me ye weren¡¯t foolin¡¯ around, eh?¡±


    Morgan was at a loss for words, but was glad the man didn¡¯t seem seriously injured, or like he was about to hold it against her. Poppy took him from her and led him back to the edge of the crowd, retrieving something from somewhere in her cloak. It was a small bottle of syrupy red liquid, and the man took it and gratefully began sipping from it. While he sat, the crowd overcame its shock, some of them cheering or whooping at her performance. She even saw money changing hands, palm-fulls of coins being passed from one to another as, apparently, bets that had been placed on the outcome of the spar were won or lost.


    ¡°Uuh¡­¡± Morgan looked up again. The lineup of volunteers had shrunk, the other blue-scaled man and the man sprouting mushrooms both conspicuously absent, leaving only the wiry lime-skinned elf woman, who was looking warily back at her.


    ¡°You got this, Em!¡± someone behind her shouted.


    ¡°I¡¯m putin¡¯ a sterling quarter on you Emi, don¡¯t lemme down!¡± another cried.


    ¡°Well, uh, your turn, I guess. I¡¯ll use something less¡­ forceful this time,¡± Morgan said, trying to sound resuring over the sounds of the crew¡¯s excited voices.


    ¡°Y¡¯still plannin¡¯ to send me ass over teakettle?¡± the woman asked, raising an eyebrow.


    Morgan chuckled nervously and cleared her throat, then nodded. ¡°Well¡­ maybe? It depends how you attack me, but judo is mostly throws and takedowns, like what you just saw. The main point of it is to get your opponent on their back, but there are also a lot of grapples and locks and¡­ well, like I said. Self-defense.¡±


    Em, or Emi, nodded and stepped forward. When Morgan bowed once again, she stared for a second, then shrugged and repeated the gesture, before adopting a fighting stance. This one was much more well put together than the unguarded full-offense approach the blue-scaled man had used. She had her arms up in front of her, fists clenched, and she was moving with some degree of thought in her footwork, trying to circle around Morgan¡¯s right to get at her back and avoid coming at her head on, but Morgan just kept turning to face her.


    Finally, apparently fed up with going in circles, Emi darted in close, surprisingly light on her feet for how large she was, and threw a left-handed jab towards Morgan¡¯s face, probably assuming that Morgan¡¯s pose only favored intercepting right-handed attacks and coming in from the left would save her from getting grabbed in the same way the other man had. Morgan kind of felt bad for her.


    Lifting her right arm up to intercept the punch was almost too easy, and once she had a firm grip on Emi¡¯s sleeve, she stepped forward, pushing her off balance and forcing her onto the backfoot. Her eyes went wide and she tried to punch with her free hand, but Morgan¡¯s other hand was already closing around the front of her shirt, and by then it was already over. Morgan kicked her left leg out and hooked it around the woman¡¯s own, then used her grip on her shirt and arm to roll her over her knee, landing her on her back with significantly less force than the man before. Morgan, not wanting to pass up the opportunity to show just a bit more of what judo could do, followed her down onto the deck, pulling Emi¡¯s between her legs as she dropped, and wrapping them around her torso. Morgan yanked her into an arm bar that she knew, from experience, was not pleasant to be in for long. She had to land on her side instead of her back to avoid sitting on her tail or crushing her fin, but it was still a perfectly executed hold.


    Morgan applied only the slightest amount of pressure while explaining through panting breaths, ¡°A-as you can see¡­ if I wanted to, I could cause you serious pain from this position or¡­ or even break or dislocate your arm, if I weren¡¯t careful.¡±


    ¡°S¡¯a good thing you¡¯re careful then,¡± Emi croaked, her throat pinned slightly under one of Morgan¡¯s legs. ¡°I got a knife n¡¯my belt, but I figure if I go fer it y¡¯could snap my arm ¡®fore I could do anythin¡¯ with it, aye?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I could,¡± Morgan said, which wasn¡¯t totally a lie. She didn¡¯t actually know if she had enough strength, mental or physical, to break someone¡¯s arm just like that while they were fighting her with everything they had, but she knew she could at least put someone through some very excruciating pain in this position.


    ¡°Guess that¡¯s me then,¡± Emi laughed, patting one of Morgan¡¯s legs with her free hand. ¡°Mind gettin¡¯ off¡¯a me now? No offense, but y¡¯weigh as much as an anchor, lass.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Sorry!¡± Morgan yelped, instantly releasing her hold on the woman¡¯s arm and rolling to the side to get off of her, then offering a hand to help her up. The crew once again pelted her with cheers or called encouraging words to Emi, several of them clapping her on the back as she rejoined the crowd. Emi down next to the blue-scaled man, who offered her the rest of the red potion (Morgan was absolutely certain it was a potion by now) who took it gratefully and downed it in one swig.


    ¡°Well, uh¡­¡± Morgan cleared her throat and looked around. ¡°If there are no more, er, volunteers, then I guess¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not so fast!¡± Captain Molly shouted, cutting Morgan off, and rose from her seated position. At this interruption, the crew around her began to murmur and whisper among themselves, and Morgan saw Poppy¡¯s eyes widen under her hood.


    ¡°Uh, y-yes? I mean, yes, Captain?¡± Morgan stammered out, silently praying what she thought was about to happen wasn¡¯t actually what was about to happen.


    ¡°That was decently impressive, I must say,¡± Red Molly said as she stood to her full height, rubbing her chin and regarding Morgan with a new expression, mouth curled into a smile and eyes narrowed in suspicion. ¡°Despite your overabundance of modesty, you¡¯re actually much better than you let on. I think you could topple most of my crew with your bare hands.¡±


    ¡°T-thank you, Captain, but I¡ª¡± Morgan began to wave off the praise, but stopped when Captain Molly held up a hand.


    ¡°But the Empire don¡¯t come alone, and they definitely don¡¯t come unarmed. You¡¯ve shown me you could easily win us any bar brawl we might happen to get into, but I¡¯d like to see how well your judo fares against an armed opponent,¡± she concluded.


    ¡°W-what?¡± Morgan asked, eyes widening.


    Red Molly didn¡¯t answer her, but rather turned her head to the side, talking to the open air once again. ¡°Oh, calm down, I¡¯m kidding. Of course we¡¯re going to use the practice blades.¡± Then, turning her head even further, she called over her shoulder, ¡°Poppy!¡±


    Poppy moved from beside the captain to another new addition to the deck she hadn''t noticed before. A large wooden chest sat against one railing, and when Poppy opened it and knelt, Morgan could see over her shoulder an impressive looking collection of weapons inside. It was only after Morgan started to notice several that were made of wood that she realized what she was looking at.


    Poppy stood, holding a rolled leather bundle under one arm, and brought it back to Captain Molly.


    ¡°Thank you, my dear,¡± Red Molly said cheerfully, unrolling the bundle, revealing it to be a knife carrier, the handles of several knives threaded through leather loops while their blades were covered by another flap of leather. She drew one of them out and held it up for Morgan to see.


    ¡°This is a practice blade,¡± Red Molly explained, pressing the visibly rounded tip into her palm. ¡°Blunt edge, no point, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re familiar, yes?¡±


    ¡°Uh, we had training knives, yes,¡± Morgan agreed, nodding, although the ones her class used had been rubber. These, as well as most of the other weapons in the chest, were still made of metal.


    ¡°Good, then, let¡¯s see how you deal with someone coming at you with one of these,¡± Red Molly said, turning to scan the crowd, her grin once again widening as she found the target of her search. ¡°Gullen, would you mind?¡±


    Heads turned, Morgan¡¯s included, to the green-scaled bosun, standing mixed in among the rest of the crew. He frowned, but stepped forward to join Red Molly near the capstan. Across the deck, excited chattering broke out as even more bets were placed, as fast as they could be, but Morgan tried to ignore them, not wanting to know how many people were betting against her this time.


    ¡°Y¡¯sure about this, captain?¡± Gullen asked. Morgan wanted to ask the same thing, but with the way her nerves were feeling she wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d be able to get it out without shouting or squeaking. She didn¡¯t know much about Gullen yet, and while he didn¡¯t seem to be much more physically impressive, there had to be a reason Red Molly was choosing him over just another crew member.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fiiiine,¡± Red Molly said, tossing the roll of practice knives into his hands.


    Gullen¡¯s frown deepened, but he still spent several seconds perusing the selection before choosing one of the knives from the lot, one with black handle and a single slightly larger single-edged blade.


    ¡°If y¡¯say so, captain,¡± Gullen said, stepping over onto the mat while testing the weight of the practice knife in his hands. He looked up and met Morgan¡¯s eyes, giving her a tired shrug. ¡°Let¡¯s get this done, lass. Jes¡¯ try not ta break anythin¡¯, I still got duties ¡®round the ship tomorrow, and I¡¯d like ta still be able ta walk then.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful,¡± Morgan assured him. She thought about asking him to do the same, but she held off. As worried as she was, she knew the point of a practice knife was that it shouldn¡¯t hurt her, and she believed Gullen knew what he was doing.


    Gullen nodded, and, satisfied he had the feel of his weapon, dropped his arms to his sides and gave Morgan a bow, which she quickly returned. Morgan fell into her stance, and Gullen adopted a fighting stance of his own, turning his body slightly, placing the arm holding the knife in front, with his free hand held open and ready.


    Morgan had refrained from mentioning that the number one thing she¡¯d been taught about going up against someone with a knife with her bare hands was ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± She¡¯d had it drilled in over and over again that her first choice in this exact situation should be to run, and that attempting to fight back was an absolute last resort.


    Wordlessly, Gullen advanced, and Morgan backed up, shifting her whole body backwards to give the impression she was in full retreat, which caused the crowd to collectively gasp. Gullen continued to close in, taking careful swipes at her that were too quick for her to even attempt to catch his arm or bat them away. Morgan hit the edge of the mat, running out of real estate to back up unless she wanted to be backed into the crowd, who even now she could hear shouting for her not to give up. Setting her jaw, she jerked to the left, making as if to circle around to Gullen¡¯s right side.


    As soon as Gullen turned to follow, extending his arm wide to slash at where he thought she was going, she reversed direction, throwing herself to the right, then ducking and charging in with her arms wide. Before Gullen could pull his arm back from the aborted attack, she collided bodily with his unprotected right side, throwing her right arm around his neck and wrapping her left around his torso like she was hugging him, clasping her hands together where they met behind his head. With one of her broad shoulders shoved into his armpit, she squeezed even harder, forcing his knife-wielding arm straight up in the air, unable to lower or even bend far enough to reach her, and heaved.


    She was taller than Gullen, so when she flexed her legs and stood to her full height, his feet left the mat, and there was nothing he could do to stop her from diving forward, sending them both crashing to the floor with her landing squarely on top of him. Morgan didn¡¯t spare a second to worry if she¡¯d overdone it; Gullen was still clutching the knife. She¡¯d lacked the strength to really excel at ground grappling before, but now it was almost scarily easy to plant a knee, then a foot, into Gullen¡¯s stomach, slide her grip from his neck to his arm, and stand, keeping him pinned while roughly twisting his arm.


    Gullen held out for so long that Morgan began to worry she¡¯d have to actually hurt him to get him to give up, until, finally, he grunted through clenched teeth and relinquished the knife, which she took into her hands while releasing her grip on his arm. The deck once again exploded into clapping, stopping, and shouting, far more of it frustrated and grumpy as those who had thought she¡¯d met her match were forced to hand over their coin to the few who had continued to believe in her. She almost lost her cool when she saw Poppy, still standing beside Red Molly, discreetly receive a small pile of coins from the captain and tuck them away inside her cloak.


    ¡°Nice feint,¡± Gullen said with another grunt, sitting up as soon as Morgan stepped off of him, massaging his shoulder while rotating his arm. ¡°I shouldn¡¯ta fallen for it, you¡¯re too damn fast fer a lass yer size.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ thank you?¡± Morgan said, uncertainly. Gullen snorted a laugh, then accepted the hand she held out to help him up.


    ¡°Thank ye fer not snappin¡¯ any of my ribs,¡± Gullen said, prodding his side experimentally, then straightened, looking past Morgan, to where Red Molly still sat. ¡°Well, captain, are ye satisfied yet?¡±


    ¡°Oh, never,¡± Red Molly said, grinning as wide as ever. ¡°But, as far as demonstrations go, I couldn¡¯t have asked for a better show.¡±


    Morgan heard Gullen grumbling under his breath as he wandered off the mat, but before she could follow him, Red Molly continued, sliding gracefully down from her seat atop the capstan.


    ¡°Yes, so far, you¡¯ve far exceeded my expectations, but I have one last challenge for you,¡± she said, crossing the deck in two long strides, placing herself in the center of the mat, her grin threatening to split her face in half. Morgan, stunned, took a step backwards, then another when Red Molly¡¯s hand reached across her body, landing on the hilt of one of her two swords, the one with the blue gem in the pommel.


    ¡°As your final test, I¡¯d like you to fight me,¡± she said, and started to slowly, achingly slowly, draw the sword from its sheath.


    Morgan¡¯s eyes went so wide she felt like they might pop out of her head, and she threw her hands up, opening her mouth, trying to shout a thousand different protests at once and ending up only making a strangled croaking noise.


    Before she could clear her throat and try again, the air up on the deck shifted. A cold breeze sighed past Morgan¡¯s face, and in the time it took her to blink, a figure had appeared at Red Molly¡¯s side, a faint blue tinge surrounding them that was already fading.


    The figure was a woman, taller than Red Molly, taller than Morgan even, but willowy, with bone-white skin, bent slightly with one hand on top of Red Molly¡¯s, preventing her from fully drawing the sword. She had pitch black hair worn in an elaborate braid, black eyes, black lips that were currently turned down in a disapproving frown, wearing a flowing black gown that seemed to float on nonexistent wind. Whoever she was, she was ethereal, beautiful, and Morgan was absolutely certain she¡¯d never seen her before, never so much as glimpsed this woman amidst the rest of the crew.


    ¡°Dear¡­¡±


    When she finally spoke, her voice was so cold it made Morgan¡¯s blood freeze in her veins, and only the fact that it was aimed at Captain Molly and not her kept her heart from exploding.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you see you¡¯re scaring the poor girl,¡± she whispered admonishingly into one of Red Molly¡¯s pointed ears, and the captain visibly shivered while the woman eased the sword she¡¯d been drawing back into place at her hip.


    ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon Mav, I just wanted to see what she¡¯d do,¡± Red Molly said, her ever-present grin having been replaced by a somewhat childish pout, disrupting her usual unflappable attitude.


    The mysterious woman rolled her eyes, turning her frosty gaze on Morgan, and she felt as though her spine had been replaced by a frozen metal pole.


    ¡°I apologize for my¡­ better half,¡± the woman said, black lips finally turned up into a smile, tittering sweetly. ¡°She¡¯s gotten it into her head that you are something¡­ more than you appear to be, but, as usual, would rather play her little games than ask a simple question.¡± Her words did nothing to help ease the sudden spike of worry and fear that had pierced through Morgan¡¯s chest at the appearance of this otherworldly woman, but she continued as though nothing about this situation was out of the ordinary at all. ¡°If you would please answer this question honestly; are you, or were you perhaps raised by, one of the Monks of the Pleiades?¡±


    Morgan¡¯s head swam. She had been convinced that Red Molly had sniffed out her true origin, but apparently she instead had been laboring under the impression that Morgan was, what, some kind of wandering monk? Or the child of one, at the very least.


    ¡°N-no? I don¡¯t¡­ no, I¡¯m not.¡± Morgan almost added that she didn¡¯t know what the ¡°Monks of the Pleiades¡± even were, but caught herself.


    ¡°See?¡± the woman said, turning back to Red Molly, putting both hands onto her shoulders. ¡°I always tell you, you¡¯re too quick to jump to conclusions, especially the wrong ones.¡±


    ¡°Heh, take all of the fun out of it, why don¡¯t you,¡± Red Molly said, letting out a throaty laugh, bringing one arm up to wrap around the waist of the mysterious woman who, as far as Morgan could tell, had just materialized aboard the ship from nowhere. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I fully believe that, my instincts usually aren¡¯t wrong, but I can see I¡¯ve gotten carried away again. I¡¯m so lucky to have someone as¡­ patient and forgiving and understanding as you around.¡±


    Uh¡­ what?


    All at once, Morgan felt every ounce of the mounting dread she¡¯d been feeling for the past minute melt away and evaporate as the expressions and postures of both Red Molly and the mysterious woman softened and they each leaned into the other, leaving Morgan just¡­ confused! And a little angry, if she was being honest!


    The woman chuckled darkly, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at Red Molly¡¯s words, then moved her hands from her shoulders to the sides of her face. She leaned down, while the captain leaned up, and Morgan saw their lips begin to part, and that was the absolute last straw.


    ¡°Wh-whoa whoa, hold on a minute!¡± Morgan shouted, causing the pair to abort their attempted kiss and turn to look at her. She gestured at the black-haired, black-eyed woman, waving her other hand in exasperation. ¡°What the hell is going on here? Who are you? What are you, where did you even come from?¡± She swung her hand back around, pointing directly at Red Molly¡¯s amused face. ¡°And you, have you just been messing with me the whole time? Were you really about to attack me with your sword if she didn¡¯t stop you?¡±


    Silence reigned. For several seconds, the only sound was Morgan¡¯s own still-elevated heartbeat and her rapid breathing.


    Then, the mysterious woman began to laugh. Her laughter was like a chorus of tiny bells, and she brought one sleeve of her elaborate black dress up to cover her mouth while she leaned slightly on Red Molly¡¯s shoulders. When she finally recovered from her laughing fit, she met Morgan¡¯s eyes and smiled gently, placing one hand against her own cheek and sighing.


    ¡°Oh, well, I suppose I can¡¯t blame you for being upset, since I never bothered to introduce myself,¡± she said airily, then, moving her hand to her chest, she bowed her head at Morgan. ¡°Although we already know each other¡¯s names, allow me to say; I am Mavis, and it is a pleasure to formally meet you, Morgan Hunter.¡±


    ¡°Mavis?¡± Morgan said the name without really hearing it, then her eyebrows shot upwards. ¡°You¡¯re real?¡± she asked, jabbing her finger towards Red Molly again. ¡°I just thought she was talking to herself that whole time!¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Red Molly spluttered, and when Morgan saw her reaching towards her swords again she almost ran towards the nearest side of the ship to throw herself over, but Mavis simply intercepted the hand with one of her own, lacing her fingers through it. She, as well as most of the rest of the gathered crew, had a hearty laugh at that, before Mavis dislodged herself from Red Molly¡¯s side and all but glided across the deck to stand before Morgan.


    ¡°Oh yes, I am quite real, though I can see how that may be hard to understand if you¡¯ve never encountered one of us before,¡± Mavis said, smiling down at Morgan while bits of her dress floated around her. ¡°To answer your earlier question, I am an arsenal spirit. In my time, I was a fantastic swordswoman, if I may say so myself, and the gods agreed. Upon my passing, they saw fit to allow me to return to the mortal world, bound to one of my signature blades, so that I may pass my knowledge and skills onto future generations.¡±


    Morgan gaped up at Mavis, her exasperation and shock melting away to pure, unfiltered awe.


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re a sword ghost?¡± Morgan asked, eyes wide at the implication of Mavis¡¯ explanation. If what she was saying was true, the concept of souls behaving unusually was not an entirely unknown factor in this world. Could that explain how she¡¯d ended up here?


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Mavis said with a chuckle, pointing back at Red Molly. ¡°You see that gorgeous sword with the blue gem in it, hanging off my handsome wife¡¯s hips? The one that she almost attempted to threaten you with, for which I am deeply sorry for not stepping in earlier? That¡¯s my true body, while this is merely a¡­ projection of my spirit.¡±


    Morgan nodded along, eagerly gobbling up this new and fascinating information, until she caught up with how Mavis had referred to Red Molly, which caused her brain to momentarily short circuit. Her mouth hung open, and she stared up at Mavis, but it was Captain Molly who answered the question she was too stunned to ask.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right,¡± Red Molly said, resting a hand on the pommel of her sword. ¡°You could say I¡¯m¡­ married to the blade.¡±


    The audience let out a collective groan at that, a few brave crew members even going so far as to boo the captain, who just stood there, beaming as though she were receiving a standing ovation. Beside Morgan, Mavis giggled into her sleeve again.


    ¡°I¡¯ve lost count of how many times she¡¯s used that one,¡± Mavis explained, with something like pride in her voice, then drifted back over to Red Molly¡¯s side, leaning down once again and finally getting the kiss she¡¯d been after before. The groans that followed that were more good natured.


    Satisfied, Mavis straightened and turned back to Morgan. ¡°Now that I am here, allow me to take over for a moment and say the things my wife should have said by now. Firstly, thank you for your demonstration, it was very insightful. I can honestly say I have never seen techniques quite like that before. Secondly, you are quite the skilled brawler, so much so that I do not believe there is very much we can teach you in the realm of hand to hand combat that you could not already cover with your ¡®judo.¡¯¡±


    ¡°O-oh, uh, thank you very much,¡± Morgan said, finally starting to feel like she had regained some of her mental footing. She supposed it had to count for something if a spirit who was literally a weapon praised her fighting skills.


    ¡°However,¡± Mavis said, holding a hand up, her smile still serene but her tone carrying just a hint of the chill it had before. ¡°Would I be correct in assuming you have no skill to speak of when it comes to wielding a weapon?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah, that¡¯s correct. I¡¯ve never held a weapon in my life, aside from the training knives, but that was just so other students could practice their disarming moves on me,¡± Morgan said, swallowing with a throat that had long since gone dry.


    ¡°As I thought,¡± Mavis said with a nod, closing her eyes and causing Morgan to realize she had not blinked once the entire time since her arrival. With her eyes still closed, she inclined her head towards Morgan. ¡°Then let me ask you one last question; would you like to learn?¡±


    Before Morgan could answer, there was a flurry of movement, Mavis¡¯ hand shooting down to Red Molly¡¯s waist, yanking the sword with the blue gem from its sheath. She shoved Red Molly back and spun away from her, coming to a stop with the sword held in one outstretched arm, revealing it to be a short silver blade, slightly curved with a single edge, polished to a mirror¡¯s sheen.


    A cutlass, Morgan observed, feeling herself smirk. As if it would be anything else.


    Red Molly, recovering from the shove, drew her remaining sword, another cutlass of much more plain design, into her left hand, standing opposite Mavis and adopting a similar pose; body turned sideways, sword arm leading while tucking her other arm behind her back, with her weight balanced in the center so as not to lean too far on either her front or back foot. The two women stared each other down for a single second, then, they began to dance.


    Red Molly¡¯s sword flashed, and Mavis¡¯ moved to intercept, not catching it, but turning it, letting it slide down the length then flicking it away. Mavis lunged, swiping downwards, and Red Molly wove out of the way, bringing her sword back around at the same time. Again, blades met and were deflected with the easiest of movements. Morgan was dimly aware of the crew on the edge of her awareness, cheering over the spectacle, but she was too enthralled to even think about joining them.


    ¡°You are strong, Morgan Hunter, an uncommonly skilled hand-to-hand fighter if I have ever seen one,¡± Mavis said, her voice still as even and conversational as it had been when she¡¯d been standing beside Morgan minutes before. While they were matching each other blow for blow, it was clear that Mavis was having a much easier time of it than Red Molly, her face calm and placid while Red Molly¡¯s was scrunched up in concentration. ¡°However, as my dear wife has said, the foes we are duty-bound to oppose will not come unarmed, nor will they come alone. They are an Empire, and they will kill you without a second thought for opposing their authority. If you are to survive long enough to carry out the oaths you swore, then you will need to become much stronger.¡±


    The whole time she talked, she and Red Molly continued to whirl and spin and duck and juke, each momentary contact between blades marked by a sharp metallic tink, the speed at which they moved causing them to come with an almost-dizzying rhythm. Soon, though, it became clear that Mavis was gaining the upper hand, forcing Red Molly to continuously back up, the crew around them obligingly getting out of the way. Until, finally, Mavis caught a thrust from Red Molly, then used her blade to spin her arm up, around, and out with such force Red Molly lost her grip and her sword went clattering to the deck, landing just in front of a thoroughly entranced Morgan. The crew¡¯s cheers grew to a crescendo, and Mavis favored them with a wave of her free hand before continuing.


    ¡°You will need to learn how to fight like a pirate fights. Not for sport, not merely to defend yourself, but, when necessary, to kill, and to do so decisively.¡±


    Mavis stepped in, blade held to Red Molly¡¯s throat and, somewhat predictably, gave her a peck on one redder-than-usual cheek, before turning to fix Morgan with the full force of her intense, ethereal glare.


    ¡°And so, I ask you again; would you like to learn?¡±


    Morgan looked down at the sword that had landed at her feet, bending down and picking it up with fingers that felt suddenly numb. She held it, horizontally, across both palms, wondering if she''d be able to tell how many people Red Molly had killed with it if she looked hard enough.


    Had everyone in the crew heard a version of this speech? How many of them had killed someone already?


    How many people had Poppy killed?


    She¡¯d told herself she¡¯d be willing to accept almost anything to join the pirates, back before she even knew they weren¡¯t like Earth pirates, before she knew about their oaths. She¡¯d sworn to treat tyrants and extortioners and the unjust as her mortal enemies, and she knew better than to try and delude herself into believing every sailor on every ship that sailed in service to this ¡°Empire¡± would be a card carrying villain who kicked puppies for fun. These pirates, her crew, her new friends, if she should be so lucky, were, in essence, freedom fighters opposing an entire nation, and now she was too, and that might mean having to get her hands very dirty.


    ¡°It¡¯s my choice?¡± Morgan asked, looking up from the blade, blinking for the first time in what felt like hours. Mavis loomed over her, her face impassive.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Mavis said softly. The crew had quieted down, and the only sounds Morgan could hear were the waves. ¡°You may choose to forego martial training, and we would do our utmost to distance you from the front lines. You would not be forced to join the boarding parties, and only ever have to fight in self-defense should we be boarded in return. Not everyone who joins is willing or capable of fighting, and the crew do not begrudge them that, just as they would not begrudge you for turning this offer down.¡±


    Morgan nodded, meeting those fathomless dark eyes for as long as she could before dropping her gaze, down to the sword she still held across her palms.


    ¡°And what would you say if I chose not to learn?¡± Morgan asked. She wasn¡¯t sure what made her ask; she was pretty sure Mavis still counted as part of ¡°the crew,¡± but she also seemed like the most experienced fighter on the ship, and she wanted to hear what she had to say.


    ¡°I would, of course, accept your decision,¡± Mavis said, the smile evident in her voice, and Morgan felt a cool hand land on her shoulder. ¡°But, before I did, I would say that to do so would be a truly regrettable waste of your talents, and would leave you weakened and vulnerable should our enemies ever take you unawares, with no one around to protect you.¡±


    Morgan couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. That was pretty much what she expected from the literal living sword. She was only mildly surprised to find that she actually kind of agreed. She didn¡¯t know if she believed she¡¯d been purposefully given this new, powerful body for a reason, but she agreed that it would be a shame to let it go to waste, and most of all she didn¡¯t want to. She didn¡¯t want to be held back on the ship while others risked their lives, to have to run and hide and be protected if the danger ever came to them. Part of what had drawn her to Poppy in the first place was her bravery. She boarded ships full of enemies entirely alone, and she¡¯d agreed to stay and fight a dangerous sea creature just because Morgan hadn¡¯t wanted to return empty handed. How could Morgan continue to look her in the eyes, drink tea with her, learn and study and grow closer with her if she chose not to fight?


    And so, with her mind made up, Morgan moved her hand, going from awkwardly cradling the sword to curling her fingers around the handle. She held it up, just to feel the weight of it in her hands. It was lighter than she¡¯d expected it to be.


    Morgan met Mavis¡¯ eyes, and nodded.


    ¡°I want to learn.¡±

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.10.1

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 10


    ¡ö


    In retrospect, maybe my plan wasn''t as foolproof as I initially thought.


    With my heart pounding in my ears, I missed whatever the dog man shouted next, but I could tell from the volume that he was closer than he had been. Beside me, Bart''s legs moved, and he started to slide out from the booth, but the bare, clawed feet of the dog man appeared at the edge of the table before he could, and suddenly he was crouching down and scowling at me.


    ¡°There you are!¡± he barked, baring his teeth. They looked very sharp. ¡°Get out here!¡±


    ¡°No, thank you!¡± I shouted back, pushing myself further back into the crevice between where the table met the wall.


    ¡°Don''t make me come in there after you!¡± the man shot back, before Bart, who had finally reached his feet, grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back upright.


    ¡°That''s enough of that,¡± Bart said, his voice devoid of any hint of concern, despite the enraged dog man now growling at him instead of me.


    ¡°I heard what she said!¡±


    Bart might have said something in response to that, but I didn''t hear it. As soon as the man''s eyes were off me, every fiber of my being screamed at me to move before he could find me again. With Bart grabbing him, his legs had turned, and the gap between him and Bart created an opening perfectly sized for me to escape through.


    Mustering some degree of courage, I pried my back off the wall and scrambled forward and out from under the table, shooting right between Bart and the dog man¡¯s legs, the latter of whom yelped in surprise and fury.


    ¡°Oh no you don''t!¡± I heard him shout behind me, then the sound of a scuffle as he ripped himself free of Bart''s grasp.


    I''d meant to climb to my feet and break into a run as soon as I was free of the table, but I instead found myself continuing to scramble on all fours, my body perpendicular to the floor I was rapidly traversing. I felt a hand graze the fur on the tip of my tail and, still letting my instincts guide me, threw myself to the side into a tumbling roll. I came out of it still running, but I heard my pursuer shout and curse over the combined din of the agitated crowd.


    My eyes frantically scanned for escape routes. The door? It was wide open, but there wasn''t a straight shot there, I''d have to weave around too many tables. Up, then. I spotted a table that was mostly empty and pumped my limbs faster to reach it ahead of my pursuer. I leapt, planting one foot in the center of the table, deftly avoiding the plate of fried fish and the tall mug beside it, and sprung off of it again before I could lose my momentum. I threw my arms up, catching the beam of the rafters overhead, and swung all the way around it like a gymnast, tucking my legs in and landing in a crouch atop the wooden beam.


    It was only after I''d done all that that I realized the beam I was sitting on was almost ten feet in the air, a distance I never would have attempted to jump had I been thinking clearly. Seeing the floor so far away, I yelped, wrapping my arms around the vertical support beam that the rafter was connected to, holding on for dear life while the angry dog man arrived below me. Growling, he jumped towards me, but fell well short, his clawed hands catching only empty air. I''m not too proud to say that I hissed and swiped my claws right back at him.


    ¡°Get down here, you little¡ª¡±


    He didn''t get to finish his sentence. The dog man had been in the process of grabbing the beam I was currently clinging to, clearly intending to climb up to me, but before he could, the air inside the inn rippled. A mountain appeared at his back, casting a dark shadow over him, and a hand the size of a dinner plate landed on his shoulder.


    ¡°You want some too¡ª¡± he growled, half-turning, claws bared again, but froze when he saw Felda¡¯s smiling face and, more importantly, the several feet of height she had on him. He stared, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.


    ¡°I think you need to cool off,¡± Felda said, and before the stunned dog man could respond, she hoisted him up like a sack of potatoes and marched to the wide open double doors of the tavern. A few of the various patrons cheered or clapped as she passed, including some of the pirates. No, wait, especially the other pirates.


    Once at the door, she unslung the dog man, holding him by one arm and one leg and, ignoring his half-formed protests, swung him back like a golfer about to make a record-breaking drive, and tossed him. He went sailing out the open doors, his shout fading as he disappeared. There was a half-second of quiet, and then a distant splash. And then a second, and a third, even more distant, before silence finally settled over the tavern like a blanket.


    Felda turned back to the room, brushing her hands off, and smiled.


    ¡°Apologies for the interruption. Please, enjoy your meals,¡± she said, and the crowd laughed, most of them already going back to their food. I saw both Elle and Mel poke their heads up from behind the bar, coming back out to resume their duties. A few of the pirates left their seats to cluster around the door, checking on their crewmate, who even now I could hear cursing and paddling back to shore. Bart emerged from the far corner, a dark expression on his face and looking more than a little rattled.


    ¡°Are you hurt, Sam?¡± Felda asked, suddenly beneath me. I looked down at her, blinking, still not quite over what I just saw. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for not coming sooner.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± I said, incredulous. ¡°I¡¯m fine, he didn¡¯t even touch me, I¡¯m more worried about him. You threw that guy really hard.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that was awesome,¡± Mel said as she passed, a tray of empty plates in her hands.


    ¡°Oh, he¡¯ll be fine, just a quick dunk to cool his head,¡± Felda said, chuckling, then held her arms up. ¡°Come now, let¡¯s get you down from there.¡±


    ¡°I can get down myself!¡± I huffed, finally releasing my death grip on the support beam, shifting myself so I was seated on the rafters with my legs dangling. ¡°Maybe I like it up here, huh?¡±


    Felda, and a few of the patrons nearest to me, snickered at that, and she continued to stand there with her arms outstretched, one eyebrow raised. I sighed, and lifted myself off the beam, turning so I could grab it with my hands and lower myself down into Felda¡¯s arms. When I felt her hands close around my midsection, I let go, and she took my weight effortlessly. Instead of setting me down immediately, like I expected, she instead pulled me into a brief but crushing hug that squeezed all the air out of my lungs in a startled ¡°Oomf!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you weren¡¯t hurt, Sam,¡± Felda said, releasing me and setting me, a little dazed, down on the floor. Her hand landed on the center of my head, and the gentle petting helped my racing heart finally calm down.


    ¡°H-heh, thanks¡­¡± I said, lowering my head.


    ¡°It''s my fault you had to step in, I underestimated him,¡± Bart said, approaching from the side, lightly rubbing at his chin. His eyes flicked down to me, and in a lower tone he whispered, ¡°that was not a wise thing to say, Sam. You should retreat to Felda¡¯s room before¡ª¡±


    ¡°Allow me to be the next to apologize.¡± A new voice cut Bart off¡ªa high, calm voice that came from behind me, making me jump and spin around to face its owner. It was the elf with the blue skin and blue robes; the pirate captain. He smiled down at me, his eyes half-lidded, as though he were very tired, then turned to Felda.


    ¡°Zevrelos Shadeleaf, captain of the Cerulean Shade,¡± he said, tipping his ridiculously wide hat at Felda.


    ¡°Felda Stoutsinger, owner of this tavern,¡± Felda said, still idly patting my head. As much as I hated to, I ducked out from under her hand, putting myself beside her instead of in front of her. I didn¡¯t think anything was likely to happen between them, but I¡¯d still rather not be in the way, just in case.


    ¡°Yes, let me first apologize to you, for the disturbance my second caused,¡± Zevrelos said, pressing his hands together in front of him. ¡°I will, of course, pay for any damage he may have inflicted.¡±


    Glancing around the tavern, Felda smirked. ¡°Thank you, but I don¡¯t see any broken tables or smashed up chairs.¡± She placed a hand on my shoulder and nodded. ¡°And the one you really should be apologizing to is Sam here.¡±


    Zevrelos¡¯ tired, icy blue eyes drifted down to me again, studying me for an interminably long second, as though actually seeing me for the first time. ¡°Of course,¡± he finally said. A smile spread across his face and he bobbed his head, placing one hand on his chest. ¡°My deepest apologies, young lady, for any distress that Duke may have caused you. I truly do not know what came over him.¡±


    ¡°I-it¡¯s fine, really,¡± I said, waving my hands and trying to laugh off the frankly excessive apology. I was actually starting to feel bad over how concerned everyone seemed about me, especially since I knew the dog guy, (Duke, apparently) hadn¡¯t just attacked me out of nowhere.


    Speak of the devil; the pirates around the door moved aside and Duke sloshed back into the tavern, dripping wet and seething, oblivious to the consoling words and shoulder pats he received from his crewmates. His eyes landed on me first, then flicked to Zevrelos beside me and Felda and Bart behind me, and he pulled an abrupt about face, heading right back out the door he just came through.


    ¡°Duke,¡± Zevrelos called out without actually raising his voice, and Duke stopped, growling something under his breath before turning back around and resuming his soggy trek into the tavern. Despite myself, I found myself backing up a little further, trying to put Felda in front of me, but her reassuring hand on my back kept me from doing so.


    Duke stopped a few feet away, and seemed to be having trouble deciding what kind of expression he wanted to make. He obviously wanted to keep death-glaring down at me, but the presence of Felda and Bart in addition to his captain kept him from really pulling it off, and the whole time his ears were laid completely flat against his head.


    ¡°Well, let me take care of that first,¡± Zevrelos said, pulling one of the wands from his belt and pointing it at Duke. I tensed, but as he waved the short length of white wood with blue inlays like a conductor, all the water that had soaked into Duke¡¯s clothes, hair, and fur was pulled away, forming into a floating orb the size of a basketball, which he sent soaring back out the door with a flick.


    ¡°Huh¡­ neat,¡± I said, causing Duke to narrow his eyes at me.


    ¡°Now then, Duke, I believe you owe this young lady an apology,¡± Zevrelos said, tucking the wand back into his belt. I couldn¡¯t help but stare at it and its twin for a second, the other wand made of black wood with gold inlays. My thirst for Bart to teach me magic only grew at the sight of them.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear what she said¡­¡± Duke growled quietly, and I sucked in a breath, tensing up despite Felda¡¯s hand on my back. I still didn¡¯t quite understand what was going on here, but it was now obvious, painfully so, that what I understood the word ¡°pirate¡± to mean and what it actually meant to the people of this world did not match up. Rower¡¯s Rest didn¡¯t strike me as a lawless hole for cutthroats and outlaws to hide away in, and, aside from Duke, the pirates had all acted no differently than any other customers.


    Though, when they heard what I¡¯d said about them, that was likely to change.


    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. I can¡¯t imagine what series of words would push you to attack a child though,¡± Zevrelos said reproachfully, tilting his head and arching one thin eyebrow, inviting Duke to elaborate. While I wanted to correct Zevrelos that I was not a child, I was currently holding my breath, waiting for Duke to drop the other shoe.


    But he didn¡¯t.


    Instead, he just looked at me with smoldering eyes, with the intimidating figures of Bart and Felda at my back and, through clenched teeth, he spat, ¡°My¡­ apologies¡­¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Zevrelos said, placing his hands together in front of him again. ¡°Return to the ship with the others. You can come ashore again tomorrow.¡±


    That, if anything, made Duke look even more crestfallen, but he turned without a word of protest and began to stalk towards the doors. I stared, the breath I¡¯d been holding coming out in a rush, and tried to make sense of what had just happened. Why didn¡¯t he say anything? Did he think his captain wouldn¡¯t believe him over me, or that Felda would throw him out again? It probably wasn¡¯t a stretch to assume that Felda would side with me if I denied it, so did he just not think it was worth it?


    As I stared at Duke¡¯s back and watched him trudge away, leaving me to get off scot free after insulting him and the rest of his crew, innocently or not, I felt an enormous pit open up in my stomach. All I had to do to avoid bringing a potential ton of trouble back on myself was let him leave and go back to my table.


    I turned my head, peering up at Bart over my shoulder. He met my eyes, then heaved a silent sigh.


    ¡°W-wait!¡± I shouted, taking a step forward. ¡°He''s right!¡±


    Duke paused mid-step, just before the open doors, and looked back over his shoulder, suspicion written all over his face. I turned to Zevrelos, shaking my head. ¡°He¡­ he¡¯s right, he didn¡¯t just attack me for no good reason!¡±


    Zevrelos tilted his head down, obviously waiting for me to continue, and, having already thrown my chance out the window, sighed and said, ¡°I¡­ may have implied that I thought all pirates were¡­ dangerous criminals.¡±


    There was an expected amount of commotion at my admission, from both the regular patrons and the pirates, but the most extreme reactions came from Felda and Duke.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Duke barked, whirling around and charging back over to Zevrelos¡¯ side, pointing down at me. ¡°I knew that¡¯s what I heard!¡±


    ¡°Why would you say something like that, Sam?¡± Felda asked, putting both hands on my shoulders and turning me to face her, fixing me with a concerned frown. She looked confused, a little hurt even, and that was the last clue I needed to cement my theory. She sounded like I¡¯d insulted a bunch of nuns or firefighters or something.


    ¡°W-well¡­¡± I stammered, my cheeks burning from the intensity of the attention all now focused squarely on me, trying to come up with a good answer on the fly. It couldn¡¯t be the whole truth, especially not here in the center of a crowded tavern, but it could be part of it. ¡°I¡­ thought that¡¯s what they were? I¡¯ve never actually seen real pirates before, I only know what I¡¯ve been told about them, which, I see now was obviously wrong, so¡­ if that''s not what they are, what are they?¡±


    A hush fell over the room. Felda¡¯s eyebrows went up, and she seemed at a loss for words, looking to Bart for assistance. Beside me, Duke seemed to be having an equally hard time wrestling with what I¡¯d just said, while Zevrelos brought a hand up to his chin and slowly stroked it.


    ¡°Mmh¡­ interesting,¡± Zevrelos said. Throughout the tavern I could hear several of the patrons also starting to mutter amongst themselves, and I knew I¡¯d just dug myself one hell of a hole. ¡°Well, it seems like this was all due to a simple misunderstanding. I would be delighted to enlighten you on the true nature of the noble calling of the pirate, if Miss Felda would allow it, but I think we should find someplace more¡­ discreet to have that conversation.¡±


    Felda¡¯s face finally fell back into a less intense expression, and she stopped staring holes through me to consider Zevrelos. She didn''t seem any more at ease, but I figured she was just still shaken from my apparently enormous social faux pas.


    ¡°I¡­ yes, that would be fine,¡± Felda said, sighing as she stood up straight, keeping one hand on my shoulder while motioning towards the bar. ¡°Let¡¯s take this to the kitchen.¡±


    Ah, geez, why do all the difficult conversations have to happen in the kitchen?


    Felda led the way and I reluctantly followed, with Zevrelos and Duke trailing behind me. I thought Bart was going to follow, but he seemed to change his mind at the last second, and when I looked back to find him again, he had disappeared. I was a little worried, but I knew I would see him again later, so I kept walking. As a group, we rounded the bar, and Felda stopped to hold the door open for the rest of us. I slipped inside, taking a deep, steadying breath of the oil-and-fish-scented air of the kitchen, then made way for the rest of the procession.


    ¡°Oh, girls, Viktor,¡± Felda said, turning back halfway through the door. ¡°No more orders until I¡¯m finished here. Drinks are half off till then.¡±


    As Felda eased the kitchen door closed and lowered the wooden shutter that blocked off the serving window, the tavern erupted into cheers, and I knew we wouldn¡¯t have to worry about being interrupted or overheard.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite¡­ generous of you,¡± Zevrelos said with a tired smirk, having removed his large hat and placed it on the edge of one of the counters. ¡°I¡¯m sure my crew will thank you in the morning.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Felda agreed distantly, walking past to attend to whatever was left on the stove or in the oven. Nothing smelled burnt, at least. ¡°Are you still hungry, Sam?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no, no, I¡¯m totally stuffed,¡± I said, patting my stomach.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty fuckin¡¯ hungry,¡± Duke grumbled, receiving an admonishing swat to the chest from Zevrelos.


    ¡°Duke, mind your language,¡± Zevrelos said, casting a significant glance in my direction. I rolled my eyes and scoffed, but before I could open my mouth to explain, Duke did the exact same thing and gestured at me.


    ¡°Oh, come off it, she ain¡¯t a kid,¡± Duke said. ¡°She¡¯s just short.¡±


    ¡°Thank you!¡± I shouted, throwing my hands into the air, then immediately brought them back down. ¡°Hey!¡±


    Duke, for his part, snorted at my irritation. Zevrelos once again stroked his chin as he looked at me.


    ¡°Truly?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I sighed, crossing my arms and nodding at Duke. ¡°I¡¯m nineteen. So far, he¡¯s been the only one to get it right.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s ¡®cause most people are only lookin¡¯ with their eyes,¡± Duke said, smirking and tapping his nose.


    ¡°Oooh¡­¡± I said, then, after I¡¯d fully processed his words, I jerked back and furrowed my brow. ¡°Wait, ew! What does that mean?¡±


    Duke¡¯s only response was to throw his head back and laugh at the ceiling, and I even saw his bushy tail begin to wag behind him as he did so.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Zevrelos said into his sleeve, smiling at me while Duke came down from his laughing fit. ¡°As delightful as it is to see that you do not intend to hold a grudge against Duke, I would not want to drag this out too long. I¡¯m sure your¡­¡± Zevrelos trailed off, turning to look at Felda, who had finished tidying up and now leaned against one of the counters. ¡°...I¡¯m sure Miss Felda would appreciate it. Don¡¯t want my crew to drink her dry.¡±


    Felda just chuckled from her position against the counter.


    ¡°Uh, right, yeah,¡± I said, looking around and, at a loss for what else to do, hopped up onto one of the empty counters so that I wouldn¡¯t be standing around looking up at everyone the whole time. ¡°So, uh, I guess we should start with¡­ what pirates actually are, and what they do?¡±


    ¡°Indeed, and what fascinating questions those are,¡± Zevrelos said, steepling his fingers in front of him, his icy blue eyes twinkling. ¡°You see, it all began over a thousand years ago, with the formation of the First Fellowship of Pirates¡­¡±


    ¡ö


    ¡°Mmh¡­ okay¡­¡± I said, swallowing the strip of fried cod I¡¯d been chewing while I thought. Felda had wound up making two baskets, one to give to Duke since his grumbling (both from his stomach and his mouth) threatened to derail the conversation, and one for me because, as it turns out, I¡¯m always hungry where fish is concerned.


    ¡°I¡­ think I get it now,¡± I said, taking a sip of lemonade to stall for more time while I tried to compile everything I learned from Zevrelos¡¯ explanation.


    Just as I¡¯d thought, ¡°pirate¡± meant something entirely different in this world. Instead of outlaws who roamed the seas, chasing down any ship they could and stealing anything of value aboard, pirates here were¡­ still technically outlaws who roamed the seas, but only chasing down certain ships. Specifically, ships belonging to ¡°the Empire,¡± which people around here seemed to only ever refer to as ¡°the Empire,¡± which was incredibly unhelpful to me. They would then steal anything of value aboard those ships, but not to keep all for themselves.


    It involved a lot of flowery language on Zevrelos¡¯ part, and a few helpful clarifications from Felda, but I got the gist; while some of the money was kept to be used to pay for things, and to compensate the crew, for the most part pirates weren¡¯t out to make it rich, but were, in fact, a tight knit organization of boat-based Robin Hood-esque freedom fighters. Some pirates would attack ships full of supplies bound for Empire colonies, but then go ahead to those very same colonies and distribute the goods to the people most in need of them, or stage attacks on Empire naval ports in order to sabotage or destroy their warships while they were docked, weakening their navy and stalling their attempts to spread the Empire¡¯s influence any further.


    The fact that, despite all that, pirates were welcomed with open arms here in Torgard, and apparently everywhere else in the world except for the Empire, told me that this Empire was not simply an unpopular country with bad opinions about demihumans, but an active menace that the rest of the world hated.


    ¡°Well, I, uh, I feel really bad about what I said now,¡± I finally said, meeting Zevrelos and Duke¡¯s eyes. With the new context I had, I could totally see why my earlier comment would be cause for alarm or outrage to anyone around here, pirate or not. Duke had probably thought I was some kind of Empire sympathizer or spy or something when he overheard me. I was glad I¡¯d managed to pass my mistake off as genuine ignorance; I¡¯d much rather people assume I was dumb and naive instead of actually malicious.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re tellin¡¯ me,¡± Duke said, sighing and scratching the back of his head. ¡°I feel like a real horse''s ass, chasin¡¯ you up the wall over somethin¡¯ you couldn¡¯ta even known was wrong, you bein¡¯ a catkin an all¡­¡±


    ¡°Indeed, but the true fault does not lie with you, my friend, or young Sam here,¡± Zevrelos said, cryptically waving one of his hands before resting it on Duke¡¯s shoulder. ¡°The incident has passed, let it be as sand castles to the tides.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ uh, sure,¡± I said, blinking. I¡­ wasn¡¯t sure I liked the way Duke had phrased that last part, but I wasn¡¯t about to go and start a fresh argument so soon after the last one had been resolved, so I just let it drop.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± Felda said, rising from her spot against the counter. Aside from the times I¡¯d looked to her for clarification of something Zevrelos had said, she¡¯d remained worryingly quiet during the whole affair. As she passed between the counters, she paused before me, and I lifted my head to meet her eyes. For just a moment, her expression remained cloudy, whatever unknown concerns she was grappling with in her mind keeping her from projecting her usual ever-pleasant attitude. Then, she smiled at me, as warm and caring as ever, and brought her hand up to my head, patting once and scratching lightly behind one ear. I smiled right back and titled my head to meet her hand, letting myself purr and for once not devoting a single second to trying to stop it, despite the two strangers in the kitchen.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you are okay, Sam,¡± Felda said quietly, and continued past me.


    ¡°Me too¡­¡± I whispered, mostly to myself.


    With my view unobstructed, I could see Zevrelos and Duke again. The former¡¯s half-lidded eyes were sparkling as they regarded me, and the latter had his arms crossed and his neck craned all the way back, staring directly at the ceiling. I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the towering, muscular dog man who¡¯d metaphorically chased me up a tree a short time ago looking so uncomfortable at the brief display of affection. Honestly, I¡¯d probably still be in his shoes, if I¡¯d ended up in this world as my old self.


    My¡­ actual self, I quickly corrected, then shook my head vigorously to completely clear it of the topic.


    Across the kitchen, Felda removed the wooden shutter from the serving window. Outside, the tavern was alive with the sound of inebriated sailors singing some bawdy song about a woman who fell in love with a hurricane.


    ¡°I hope everyone¡¯s had their fill!¡± Felda shouted out the window, and was met by a chorus of whoops and cheers, and the unmistakable sound of someone falling out of a chair. She turned back to Zevrelos, smiling broadly.


    ¡°I will, of course, pay for any damages,¡± Zevrelos said, smiling right back. To me, he said, ¡°It was quite a delight to meet you, young Miss Sam, thank you for giving me an opportunity to ramble about ancient history.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re fun, for a land dweller,¡± Duke said, grinning at me, apparently having gotten over his embarrassment. ¡°We¡¯re gonna be in port for a couple days, y¡¯should come by the ship sometime.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, sure,¡± I said, blinking and hopping down from the counter, since the conversation was well and truly wrapping up now. I moved to follow Zevrelos and Duke to the kitchen door, but Felda''s quiet voice stopped me.


    ¡°Sam, would you stay a minute?¡± she asked, and I turned, looking up at her again. Her tone and her expression were soft, but a part of me couldn''t help but assume the worst regardless, and I could feel my ears start to droop, unbidden. Felda noticed, obviously, and held her hands up.


    ¡°I am not upset with you, Sam, I promise you,¡± she said, gently but insistently. ¡°I just want to discuss something, but it is not urgent. It can wait until you¡¯re feeling better, if you''d prefer.¡±


    ¡°Ah, uh, no, I''m okay, I''ll stay,¡± I said, taking a deep breath and trying to still my suddenly racing heart. Felda must have learned from our last ¡°discussion" after the incident at the bakery.


    ¡°Are you certain?¡± Felda asked, giving me another smile. Then, her eyebrows lifted as though she''d just remembered something, and she added, ¡°And, just to be clear, you are allowed to refuse anything I ask of you, Sam.¡±


    I briefly raised an eyebrow at that odd addition. I got the distinct impression it was something she¡¯d been told she needed to say. By Bart, if I had to guess, but to what end?


    ¡°I¡­ I know that?¡± I said, tilting my head. I''d never had reason to doubt that before, and Felda hadn''t really asked anything of me since coming here. Still, maybe there was some merit in having the assurance stated out loud. ¡°And, yes, I¡¯m sure, I want to stay.¡±


    I was a little nervous, of course, but the rational part of me trusted Felda, and if I left without even finding out what it was she wanted to talk about I¡¯d just be dreading the unknown until the next time we met.


    ¡°Good,¡± Felda said, once again moving past me to return to the stove and countertop, picking up where she''d left off with the various dishes that had been put on hold. She retrieved a pre-cleaned slab of fish from the storeroom attached to the kitchen and, as she began slicing it with her back to me, she spoke. I wondered, briefly, how she¡¯d kept it cold, as I could see the steam wafting off it, but quickly discarded the thought.


    ¡°I¡­ want you to know something, Sam,¡± Felda said, an uncharacteristic hesitancy in her voice I''d not heard before.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, neutrally.


    ¡°Now, I hope you don''t take offense to this, but it has been clear from the moment you arrived that you are of¡­ especially uncommon background, and this most recent incident has only highlighted that,¡± Felda said, her movements at the cutting board slow and deliberate. Before I could even begin to tense up, Felda reassured me, ¡°I am not here to ask you to reveal the exact details, unless you want to. I can understand you have your reasons for keeping your past a secret, and Gods know I do not wish to challenge them.¡±


    More than you could possibly imagine, I thought with a dry smile. Out loud, I said, ¡°I¡¯m sensing there¡¯s a ¡®but¡¯ coming.¡±


    ¡°But,¡± Felda said, chuckling lightly before returning to her serious tone. ¡°I want you to know that, no matter what it is you¡¯re holding back, it will not affect my commitment to helping you and seeing you back on your feet. Whoever or¡­ whatever you were before you came here, whatever deeds you may have done, and whether you do choose to reveal them or not, I will not think less of you. I swear it.¡±


    By the end of Felda¡¯s impromptu speech, my eyes were moist, and I had to bite down on my lip with one of my fangs, but I managed to hold it together. When she¡¯d first started, I almost bolted straight out of the kitchen, assuming she had somehow discovered the truth, but actually thinking about it, I figured she was still running off the same assumption that I was the lost pet catgirl of some rich noble family, or something equally ridiculous. I didn¡¯t know what ¡°deeds¡± she might have been referring to either, and I¡¯d much rather keep it that way.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, first off, suppressing the tremor in my voice. Whether or not she actually knew the truth of what she was really referring to, Felda had made a pretty big commitment just then, and I didn¡¯t want her to think I was ungrateful. I cleared my throat a few times and continued. ¡°That¡­ means a lot to me. I know it must be frustrating for you, for everyone, not knowing anything about me, and I¡­ want to try and fix that. There are some things I want to tell you and some things I¡­ can¡¯t tell you, but I don¡¯t plan to keep you in the dark forever.¡±


    Well, I had planned to do that as long as possible, but it¡¯d only been two days and I¡¯d already seen how untenable my earlier decision was. I wanted, maybe even needed, someone to confide in, and someone who I could ask all the questions I had about this world. At the same time, I felt a selfish urge to cling to the mystique my mysterious arrival provided me, and the feelings I got when I imagined telling Felda I wasn¡¯t who or what I appeared to be caused the delicious dinner she¡¯d cooked for me to turn into lead in my gut.


    Despite what she¡¯d promised, could she really see past the truth? And why did it matter so much to me?


    ¡°I just¡­ want things to stay like this a little while longer,¡± I said, easing up on my lip before I could actually draw blood. At some point my eyes had become fixed to the floor as though they weighed a thousand pounds, and I¡¯d crossed my arms over myself tightly. ¡°Is that okay?¡±


    ¡°Of course it is, Sam,¡± Felda said without hesitation. There was a metallic groan and I felt a momentary flare of heat as the oven was opened and then closed. ¡°There we go, now, come here.¡±


    I lifted my head and found Felda¡¯s understanding smile. She finished wiping her hands on a rag, then opened her arms, and I obligingly crossed the gap to step into them. A few tears leaked out onto her apron as she squeezed me, but I didn¡¯t start sobbing this time. That¡¯s progress, right?


    ¡°One of these days I¡¯ll get out of this kitchen without crying,¡± I said, with my head still resting against her stomach.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with crying, Sam,¡± Felda said, gently admonishing me and patting the back of my head. ¡°You are a small thing, after all, it¡¯s no wonder there¡¯s not enough room to keep all those emotions stuffed up inside you.¡±


    I snickered and snorted and squeezed Felda back as hard as I could.


    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not fair,¡± I said when I¡¯d finally composed myself again, stepping back out of Felda¡¯s embrace and mock glaring at her across the very long distance from my eyes to hers. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault I¡¯m this short.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Felda said obligingly, stepping back to the counter with one final pat to the top of my head. ¡°I really do need to get back to work now. You¡¯re welcome to stay, of course.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll get out of your hair now. Maybe see if I can track down where Bart went off to.¡±


    ¡°Ah, alright then. You¡¯ll probably find him on his boat, it¡¯s just a little ways up the docks,¡± Felda said, smiling and waving me off, heading towards the storeroom again. I waved back and pushed my way out the kitchen door.


    It hadn¡¯t gone unnoticed when it was just coming in through the serving window, but the atmosphere of an entire tavern full of drunken pirates hit me like a bucket of water in the face. Several groups had thrown their arms around their neighbors¡¯ shoulders and swayed together while they sang another song, this time one of those songs where every new line added an extra detail to the chorus, about, what else, a pirate who steadily worked his way through various colorful sounding drinks. A few of the pirates had even pulled out instruments, one of them being Zevrelos, who had a small harp-like instrument held in the crook of his arm that he plucked away at with startling ease.


    ¡°Welcome back, Sammie!¡±


    Elle¡¯s excited, slightly raised voice broke me out of the stupor I¡¯d fallen into since returning to the main room. Knowing what was coming, I braced myself as I turned to her, but was still knocked slightly off my feet as she swept down to hug me as well. The sheer volume of crushing bear hugs in my life had drastically increased since coming to this world, and I was in no mood to think about what that meant tonight.


    ¡°I¡¯m sooooo glad you didn¡¯t get hurt!¡± Elle declared, lifting me slightly before setting me back down and giving me back some breathing room. ¡°That dog guy was sooo angry, but the way you dodged him was sooo cool, I didn¡¯t even know you could move like that! You just went like womph¡±¡ªshe used her hands to mime the motion of my mid-run tumble¡ª¡°and then hup¡±¡ªshe threw both arms into the air, presumably just like I had done when I¡¯d made my gravity-defying leap¡ª¡°and next thing I knew you were in the ceiling!¡±


    ¡°H-heh, well, thanks¡­¡± I said, taking an extra step back and shrugging, lowering my head to hide my burning cheeks. ¡°I wasn¡¯t really thinking about where I was going, just trying to get away. I¡¯m glad it worked though, things might have gone much worse if Duke had caught me before Felda showed up.¡±


    ¡°I bet,¡± Elle said, laughing, then raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smile spreading across her round face. ¡°Sooo, his name¡¯s Duke, huh? I guess that means you worked everything out in there?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, the captain, Zevrelos, he, uh, he explained things to me,¡± I said, not at all liking the way Elle continued to smile at me, looking like she was in on some private joke just between herself. ¡°I know all about pirates now though, so that''s good. Won¡¯t make the same mistake again.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah,¡± Elle said, finally returning to a more normal expression. ¡°I want to say I hope when the word spreads people realize it¡¯s not your fault, but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if you start getting funny looks while you¡¯re out on the streets.¡±


    ¡°You mean, more than I already do?¡± I asked, chuckling when Elle''s cheeks blushed slightly green and she nodded. I shrugged again. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve learned there¡¯s not much you can do when stuff like that happens other than try to set the record straight, and keep your head down otherwise.¡±


    Elle¡¯s brow furrowed at that, and she opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Mel shouted from across the tavern.


    ¡°Elle, if you don''t stop chattering and come help me I''m going to kick your ass!¡±


    Elle yelped, her cheeks going an even darker shade of green, and she rapidly backpedaled away from me while waving. ¡°Oop, back to work! Bye Sammie!¡±


    ¡°Bye!¡± I shouted back, grinning. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in time to help with the dishes!¡±


    I didn¡¯t give her time to voice the objection I could clearly see on her face before I continued on my way, weaving around the tables of high-spirited pirates and good natured locals, many of both pausing to offer me a wave of a tankard or a shout of ¡°Oy, catgirl!¡± as I passed.


    As nice as it was to see so many people having a good time, I definitely felt relieved once I emerged onto the docks and put a few dozen yards between me and the Crooked Hook. With all the activity going on, the inside of the tavern had warmed up fast, and the air out on the docks was cool and refreshing in comparison. I stopped and leaned against a post, and for a while just enjoyed the atmosphere; the salt scented breeze off the bay, the pink-tinted moon overhead reflected on the water, and the sound of the water slapping the hulls of the many docked ships.


    ¡°Damn fine night, ain¡¯t it?¡± a voice behind me asked, and I nearly shrieked and dove off the dock. I choked it down to a yelp and whirled around, finding a very startled looking Duke backing away and holding his hands up.


    ¡°Woah, woah, sorry!¡± he said apologetically, one of his ears drooping slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to keep scarin¡¯ ya, I thought you woulda heard me¡­¡±


    I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before I answered, shaking my head. ¡°No, no, you¡¯re fine, I just¡­ I guess I was a little distracted, looking at the ocean.¡±


    He was right, even I was surprised I hadn¡¯t heard him approaching. On the other hand, he didn¡¯t wear any shoes, and I imagined he could move pretty silently if he wanted to.


    ¡°I¡¯m kinda surprised to find you this close to it,¡± Duke said, moving up to the edge of the dock to stand beside me, peering out. ¡°Woulda thought you¡¯d want to stay as far away from water as possible, ¡®specially this much of it.¡±


    I snorted and rolled my eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of the water,¡± I said plainly. Duke turned his head and stared down at me, one incredulous eyebrow raised all the way up. I stared right back for a few seconds, then turned, looking past the edge of the docks at the water below.


    ¡°Okay, okay, I believe you!¡± Duke said, reaching out, and I burst out laughing.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t actually going to jump in,¡± I said, leaning back. ¡°That looks way too cold for me.¡±


    ¡°Good, you¡¯d probably go into shock,¡± Duke said, letting out a sigh when it was clear I wasn¡¯t about to dive into the bay. I chuckled a little more, then took another moment to admire the quiet scenery, broken up only slightly by the muffled sound of revelry from the many taverns behind us, Felda¡¯s included.


    ¡°So, uh, there¡¯s probably a less rude way to ask this, but, what¡¯re you doing out here?¡± I asked finally, tilting my head back to look up at Duke again.


    ¡°Oh, heh, well I saw ya leavin¡¯ and wanted to make sure you were really alright, after your, uh¡­¡± Duke trailed off, brow furrowing as he searched for the correct word.


    ¡°Felda?¡± I offered.


    ¡°Right, yeah, her, Miss Felda,¡± Duke said, nodding a few times. ¡°When she asked you to stay back, I was worried you were gettin¡¯ a talkin¡¯ to. Figure that¡¯s also probably my fault, too, and I still kinda owe you a real apology after, y¡¯know, so¡­ here I am?¡±


    ¡°Oh, huh,¡± I said, after he was finished. It really was a stark contrast, between the furious figure who¡¯d seemed like he wanted to throttle me to death a little while ago and this awkwardly genuine personality he had on display now. It was hard to wrap my head around.


    ¡°Well, no, that was just some¡­ stuff between me and Felda, nothin¡¯ to worry about. I¡¯m really feeling a lot better now,¡± I said, smiling and leaning one elbow on top of the post again. ¡°I won¡¯t say no to another apology though, if you really want. I could tell you didn¡¯t mean that first one at all.¡±


    ¡°Heh, yeah,¡± Duke said, chuckling weakly, bringing a hand up and scratching at his chin. He stared off into space for several seconds before taking a deep breath, visibly centering himself, and looked to me again. ¡°M¡¯sorry I almost bit your head off back there. Zev¡¯s been helpin¡¯ me work on my temper, and I been goin¡¯ along with it, but I still slip up sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry about it ,¡± I said, vaguely waving my free hand in the air. ¡°It¡¯s like waves on the beach, or whatever he said.¡±


    Duke snorted, and we both shared a laugh. Finally, I pushed off the post again and stretched my arms in the air.


    ¡°Anyway, the real reason I came out here was to track down where Bart went,¡± I explained, groaning a little as I stretched, my back bending far more than I realized it was capable of. It felt so good I think I almost started purring.


    ¡°Oh, that old guy?¡± Duke asked, scratching his chin again and looking around.


    ¡°Yup,¡± I said, chuckling a little since I¡¯d referred to Bart the exact same way just a day ago. ¡°I wana check on him, and talk about tomorrow. He¡¯s teaching me how to fish.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you fish?¡± Duke asked, again unable to hide his disbelief even a little bit. I wanted to say he wore his emotions on his sleeves, but his loose orange shirt barely had any sleeves to speak of.


    ¡°Heck yeah I do,¡± I said, grinning and poking a thumb into my chest. ¡°You could even say ¡®Fisher¡¯ is my last name¡­ er, because it is. Though, I¡¯m not actually that good yet, I just started¡­ Well, today. This morning, actually.¡±


    It had just occurred to me how much I¡¯d gotten up to in a single day. It was hard to believe I¡¯d squeezed all that in along with two whole naps.


    ¡°That¡¯s still damn impressive,¡± Duke said, tilting his head back and looking up at the sky. ¡°Don¡¯t usually hear about your kind gettin¡¯ up to much of anythin¡¯. Er, no offense.¡±


    ¡°None taken, I think,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ kind of an unusual case. Not exactly like the rest of¡­ my kind.¡±


    Regardless of whether it was to help uphold my cover, I still felt weird and vaguely uncomfortable referring to the other catkin as ¡°my kind.¡±


    ¡°Still, m¡¯sorry,¡± Duke said, quiet and somber. ¡°Must¡¯a been hard, growin¡¯ up.¡±


    Whatever response I¡¯d been about to give died in my throat, and I had to clear it a few times, answering instead with just a nod. Damnit, how did everybody know exactly what to say to strike directly at the heart of my issues?


    ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m here now,¡± I said, and proceeded to move past it, both figuratively and literally, walking around Duke and continuing up the docks. I paused after a few steps and turned around, looking back the way I¡¯d come, towards Felda¡¯s tavern. The docks continued in that direction as well.


    ¡°Somethin¡¯ wrong?¡± Duke asked, thankfully dropping the previous line of conversation as easily as I had.


    ¡°Felda said Bart¡¯s boat was just up the docks, but she didn¡¯t say which way, and I¡¯ve never seen it before,¡± I said, sighing and starting back towards the tavern.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Duke said as I passed, and when he moved to follow me I was pleased that I could, in fact, hear his footsteps on the dock.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t this ¡®Bart¡¯ guy a friend of yours though?¡± Duke asked, and I paused to look back at him.


    ¡°Yeah? Well, I mean, sort of, he¡¯s kind of a lot older than me¡ª¡± I began to ramble, but Duke cut me off.


    ¡°But you been around him long enough to pick up his scent, haven¡¯t you?¡± he asked, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, furrowing my brow, then, again when I realized what he was getting at. ¡°Oh!¡±


    I had been thinking about exactly that a short while ago, after my latest nap! Still, there was a difference between thinking I might be able to track down Bart based on his unique scent, and actually doing it. I¡¯d never done anything like it before but, then again, I¡¯d never jumped from a table to a beam some ten feet in the air before either, so maybe tonight was just going to be a night of firsts.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Closing my eyes so I could concentrate, I took one long, slow, extra deep inhale through my nose. The scents washed over me in a dizzying array. I could smell the sea, overwhelmingly so with how close to it I was, but I ignored it. I could smell the ships around me; wood and rope and oil and more salt, and something that tickled my nose and smelled like cinnamon and smoke. Duke was next to me and I could smell him too, sweat and metal and faint traces of some kind of fragrance, like flowers. So many scents drifted on the wind, and I could smell them all.


    None of them were Bart, though.


    I started to walk with my eyes closed, lifting my nose into the air and taking more rapid sniffs at the air, each one bringing a new mix of smells, each one that didn¡¯t have a whiff of Bart in it discarded just as quickly. It was the olfactory equivalent of sorting through a tangled pile of differently colored lengths of string, trying to pick out one of a very specific color from all the rest, and I began to doubt if I was even capable of doing it.


    Then, I caught a hint of paper and leather.


    Excited, I turned and took another sniff, gathering up more of the threads that made up my mental imprint of Bart. Paper and leather, salt and sweat. Oil and herbs and dried meat and nuts, it was all there, and I opened my eyes now so I could break into a light jog. Duke appeared beside me, keeping up easily, grinning wide and wagging his tail as he ran.


    We ran past several ships and empty docks, almost a dozen more taverns, before the loose scent I¡¯d been following coiled together into a strong, singular smell, and I skidded to a halt. The boat tied up at the dock I stood at the mouth of was, as boats went, kind of small, at least compared to the larger two or three masted ships that took up most of the spots in the docks. This one had only one narrow mast right in the center, a little enclosed booth with the steering wheel behind it, and a large, square, open in the rear surrounded by a short railing with a narrow staircase in the center that led, presumably, down deeper into the hull. Like Bart¡¯s enchanted dwarven fishing rod, his ship looked an awful lot like a modern day sailboat.


    And there, seated on a chair with his back to the railing, was Bart, looking up from his book at my sudden and none-too-quiet arrival. I was panting pretty loud.


    ¡°Found you!¡± I declared, pointing a finger right at Bart¡¯s unfazed face.


    ¡°Mmh.¡± Bart hummed, closing his book and setting it on a short folding table next to him, on which also rested a mug that released more of that fragrant, floral scent into the air. ¡°So you did.¡±


    Chuckling, I moved to step onto the little notched plank that served as a ramp from the dock to the boat, but Duke''s hand grabbing the back of my shirt stopped me.


    ¡°Woah woah, hey, you can''t just board a ship without asking!¡± he said frantically.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, allowing myself to be pulled back from the threshold. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°It''s tradition,¡± Duke said, releasing my shirt and nodding his head firmly. ¡°And it''s just good manners besides. Shows proper respect to the ship and her captain. Here, like this.¡±


    Moving past me, Duke put one foot up on the gangplank, clearing his throat and straightening his back.


    ¡°Permission to come aboard?¡± Duke asked, then, after a momentary stumble, added, ¡°Uh, Sir!¡±


    Bart watched the whole thing play out in stoic silence, and for a few moments he just stared evenly at Duke and didn''t respond, forcing him to maintain his stiff posture. Finally, Bart broke.


    ¡°Heh.¡± Bart let out a gruff laugh, leaning forward in his chair. ¡°Lad''s got the right of it. I''d have given you a pass, but another captain might take it as a slight, so that''s a good thing to keep in mind.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay then,¡± I said, glancing at the still rigid form of Duke. I assumed he was waiting for Bart to respond to the traditional request, presumably either giving or withholding permission to board. I didn''t know if standing at attention until you got that answer was part of the tradition, but it did seem like Bart was taking his sweet time actually giving it.


    Rolling my eyes, I gave Bart a look and asked, ¡°So can we come up or not?¡±


    ¡°Aye, aye, permission granted,¡± Bart said dismissively, reclining back in his chair again and reaching for his mug. ¡°What can I do for you, Sam?¡±


    ¡°Well, you disappeared so suddenly, I wanted to check up on you,¡± I said, strolling up the gangplank. Behind me I heard Duke let out a sigh like he''d been holding his breath, and then his footsteps as he followed.


    My answer seemed to have given Bart pause, and he looked at me over the rim of his mug, taking a slow sip. Setting it back down, he raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Check up on me?¡±Bart asked, sounding amused. ¡°That''s mighty thoughtful of you, Sam, but I think I''m still a few years off from needing to be looked in on by the village youths.¡±


    I snickered, hopping down into the rear section of the boat, walking over until I was standing opposite Bart, and leaned my back against the railing. ¡°Well, and I wanted to ask if there''s anything I need to know for tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Bart said, nodding. ¡°Same as before, just be up early. I''m sure Felda will insist on breakfast again, afterwards we''ll make a quick stop for bait and head back to the river. I''ll be teaching you a few more of the local species and what baits they prefer, and a few new tackle setups.¡±


    ¡°Neat!¡± I said, and meant it. I was still a little surprised how fun the actual act of fishing had turned out to be, and just the thought of expanding my toolset excited me.


    ¡°What about you, lad?¡± Bart asked, turning to a still uncomfortably stiff looking Duke, who hadn''t proceeded much further onto the boat after stepping down from the ramp. ¡°I don''t suppose you just came along to escort the young lady.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, huffing.


    ¡°Aye, sir,¡± Duke said, baring all his teeth in a broad grin. ¡°I wanted to make sure she didn¡¯t get scooped up by an owl and carried off into the night.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± I said again, louder. ¡°I won¡¯t hesitate to hurt you.¡±


    To demonstrate my point, I held up one hand and flexed my fingers, fully extending my claws for the first time. Duke laughed, but not in a mocking way, and grinned.


    ¡°Is that a challenge?¡± he asked, seeming excited. His tail was even wagging again. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen how a catkin fights! I could have the crew roll out the practice mats when you stop by.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, lowering my claws. Was he serious? He was buff as hell and like, over a foot taller than me. ¡°Uh, no, no, I was just joking. I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯d wipe the floor with me in a fair fight.¡±


    Duke scoffed. ¡°Psh, ain¡¯t no such thing as a fair fight, but, fine, s¡¯up to you.¡±


    He said that, but I could clearly see the moment his tail had stopped wagging, and the way his ears were wilting even as he continued to try and shrug my refusal off. Shit, was he really that excited to fight me? And was that what it was like whenever anyone talked to me? I hoped I wasn¡¯t that transparent.


    ¡°If you really wana fight that much, you could probably ask Bart, I bet he¡¯d like to kick your ass,¡± I said, motioning to the man in question, who gave me an unamused look from across the deck.


    Duke went a little pale at that and chuckled nervously, holding up his hands.


    ¡°Ah, uh, no, I¡¯m good. I don¡¯t fancy gettin¡¯ hurled into the ocean twice in one night,¡± Duke said, and I couldn¡¯t hold back a snort. Turning back to Bart, Duke cleared his throat. ¡°Actually, s¡¯kind of why I¡¯m here. When I heard she was comin¡¯ to see you I tagged along, figured it couldn''t hurt to come and clear the air, y''know, make sure there''s no hard feelin''s.¡±


    ¡°Hmmh,¡± Bart grunted in understanding, taking another sip from his mug. ¡°Well, normally I''m the type to hold a grudge, but if Sam¡¯s seen fit to forgive you, then I suppose I can¡¯t rightly seal you in a barrel and send you out to sea.¡±


    Duke stared back at Bart¡¯s hard, stony expression for several seconds, probably waiting for a crack that never came, before flicking his gaze over to me.


    ¡°He¡¯s joking, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and he¡¯s not as good at hiding it as he thinks,¡± I said, smirking across the deck at Bart. Sure enough, as soon as I did, Bart averted his eyes and raised his mug to his lips, using it to hide the slight smile I saw spreading there.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I have the foggiest idea what you¡¯re talking about, Sam,¡± Bart said, setting the now empty mug down and letting out a yawn. ¡°I¡¯m a cantankerous old man, remember?¡±


    I snickered at Bart¡¯s ridiculousness and stood up from the railing. ¡°Need me to walk you home before you fall asleep then?¡±


    ¡°No need,¡± Bart said, standing and nodding towards the narrow staircase that led down into the boat. ¡°I¡¯ve got a couple of bunks on board.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± I said, peering deeper into the dim interior of the boat. ¡°Wait, do you¡­ live on this boat?¡±


    Bart chuckled at that, already proceeding past me towards the staircase. ¡°I do have a place up the coast where I keep my belongings, but this boat makes as good a home as any I¡¯ve ever had on land. I¡¯ll show you what she can do someday, if you hurry up and get good enough to earn your full license.¡±


    Pausing with one foot on the first step, Bart nodded to me, lightly tapping two fingers to the corner of his brow in a casual salute.


    ¡°¡®Til the morning, Sam. Sleep well, when you do.¡±


    ¡°Ah, goodnight,¡± I said, shuffling back over to the gangplank. What was it Felda had said last night? ¡°And uh, may Sera watch your dreams.¡±


    I was pretty sure I hadn¡¯t gotten it exactly right by the way Bart let out a surprised bark of laughter as he descended into his boat. Duke struggled with a snickering fit behind me, following me back down the gangplank.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t heard that one since I was a pup,¡± Duke said at my questioning glare.


    ¡°Is it only for kids?¡± I asked, already wondering if I was going to have to talk to Felda about it.


    ¡°Not entirely,¡± Duke said with a shrug, keeping pace beside me as I ambled back in the direction of the tavern. ¡°Someone who¡¯s also a follower of Sera might say it too¡­ wait, why are you asking me this? Don¡¯t you know?¡±


    ¡°Oh, ah, sh¡ª¡± I bit off the end of the curse, shaking my head. Sighing, I held up a hand. ¡°Sorry, what I mean is, no, I don¡¯t. I¡¯d never heard that before coming here, just like I¡¯d never heard what pirates are like. There¡¯s¡­ kind of a lot I don¡¯t know about the way things work, er, down here.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so you are one of those¡­¡± Duke said, crossing his arms behind his head and peering up at the starry sky. ¡°I thought so, but you¡¯re not as¡­¡± Duke dropped his eyes back down to me, appearing to carefully consider his next words before continuing, ¡°...¡¯delicate¡¯ as they say you¡¯re supposed to be.¡±


    ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m an unusual case,¡± I said, chuckling and stuffing my hands into my pockets.


    ¡°I¡¯ll say,¡± Duke said, smirking at the sky again, still walking with his arms behind his head.


    We continued the rest of the walk in comfortable silence. The sounds of revelry grew steadily louder as we approached the Crooked Hook, until we were standing in the square of bright light spilling out the open doors of the tavern.


    Duke took a few steps towards the doors before turning back to look at me.


    ¡°You comin¡¯?¡± he asked.


    ¡°In a bit,¡± I said, my eyes fixed on a spot just above the doors.


    There was a feature I¡¯d never really taken note of in the front end of Felda¡¯s tavern. It had a little fenced-in outdoor area to either side of the doors, with room for a few more tables and chairs, all covered by a short overhanging awning about seven or eight feet off the ground. Ever since I¡¯d flung myself up into the rafters with surprising ease, I¡¯d started to look at everything around me as though the world had had an entire new dimension added to it that I just couldn¡¯t see before. I didn¡¯t just want to know if I could get up on the awning, I wanted to be up on that awning.


    Stepping back until my heel touched the edge of the docks, I took off running, shooting past a startled and confused looking Duke, until I was a few feet from the overhang. I jumped, using a barrel left on the outside of the little fenced-in area to spring off a second time, and grabbed ahold of the edge of the awning. Duke, as well as the patrons seated in the tables that faced the left side windows of the tavern, let out a few startled shouts that turned into words of encouragement as I hauled myself over the edge and plopped down onto my back on the overhang, panting from excitement more than exertion.


    ¡°Psh, cats,¡± I heard Duke say, from his lowly position down on the ground.


    ¡°Jealous,¡± I shot back, sitting upright again and peering down at him. ¡°You go on, I¡¯ll be just fine right here.¡±


    ¡°If you say so,¡± Duke said, giving me a wave and continuing until he was out of sight under the awning, returning to the tavern. I listened long enough to hear a few of his crew call out to him and pester him over what he¡¯d been up to, but eventually I just tuned out everything going on inside and leaned back on the gently sloped wooden roof of the awning, resting with my arms behind my head. The night was cool but not chilly, and I found my little ledge to be quite comfortable.


    ¡°I think I could get used to this¡­¡± I said to the empty air, staring up at the pink tinted moon and the blanket of stars that made up the sky. I was just joking, I told myself. After I won the fishing competition, I knew I¡¯d have to start looking around for information about what had happened to me, whether it was something anyone had heard of before and whether it was something that could be undone.


    But, in the meantime, it looked like spending a month or so as a weird half-cat half-girl thing wouldn¡¯t be so bad.


    I laid there on the awning, and might have even dozed off for a light nap once or twice, until I heard the commotion going on below me shift from the inside to the outside, and sat up again. Blinking, I peered down as the crowd of pirates stumbled out the front of the tavern in twos and threes.


    ¡°Bye,¡± I called, amused at the number of pirates that jumped at the sound of my voice. ¡°Come back soon.¡±


    The crowd¡¯s shock and confusion quickly gave way to laughter, and several of the pirates tossed drunken waves back in my direction. Duke and Zevrelos were among the last to leave, the former grinning at me as he went, the latter once again tipping his ridiculous hat. Once the press of bodies had trickled to a stop, I hefted myself up onto the edge and swung down, dropping in front of and thoroughly startling Elle just as she was about to close the doors of the tavern.


    ¡°Toldya I¡¯d be back,¡± I said, snickering at her.


    ¡°Where did you come from?¡± Elle asked, after she was done pouting. She looked up at the awning and arched an eyebrow. ¡°Were you just up on the roof the whole time?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± I said, smiling and strolling past her. ¡°C¡¯mon, I bet there¡¯s a lot of dishes to take care of.¡±


    Elle sputtered momentarily, then sighed and finished closing and latching the door behind me. Mel was already busy sweeping and Felda was wiping down tables as I entered, a little skip in my step as I raised a hand to wave.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s in a good mood, huh?¡± Mel asked, looking up from her broom and smirking. ¡°Did you and your new admirer have a good chat?¡±


    ¡°Mel!¡± Elle hissed.


    ¡°What?¡± I said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°You mean Duke? He¡¯s not my ¡®admirer,¡¯ that¡¯s ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Sam,¡± Felda interjected, smiling playfully at me. ¡°He did invite you to come visit him on his ship, didn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Did he?¡± Elle asked, her voice shrill, before she glanced at me and cleared her throat. ¡°Ah, I mean¡­ don¡¯t tease poor Sammie like that!¡±


    Mel burst out laughing at that while Elle descended on her, ineffectually swatting her on the shoulder. Rolling my eyes, I proceeded past them towards the kitchen. As expected, there was a mountain of dishes beside the sink, most of them mugs or cups or the tall wooden tankards. I fumed by myself for several seconds before I realized I didn¡¯t know if there was a way to fill the sink without the magic Elle had demonstrated last night. There had to be, right?


    Focusing on that let me completely forget the events of the last minute, so by the time Elle did make her appearance in the kitchen, I had already moved on completely.


    ¡°Sammie, I am so sorry about¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, hey, how do you fill the sink if you don¡¯t know that water spell?¡± I asked, poking my head through the door that led into the storeroom, one of the few places in the tavern I hadn¡¯t really explored yet.


    Elle took a moment to answer, a little off-balance from my sudden change of topic. ¡°Ah, oh, there¡¯s a tank and some barrels out the back door.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a back door?¡± I asked, looking over my shoulder. Elle smiled, pushing past me into the storeroom, ushering me to follow. I did so, and got a look at the room where Felda stored everything she used to keep the tavern running. It was a room about half the size of the kitchen, with shelves against all four walls and two extra in the center. There were barrels, sacks, and jars everywhere, reminding me of the general store, as well as loose items like wheels of cheese, a pallet of eggs, and strings of dried herbs hanging from the ends of several shelves.


    ¡°That¡¯s the coldroom,¡± Elle explained, pointing to a metal door on the opposite end of the room. ¡°That¡¯s where the fish and things that don¡¯t keep go.¡± Then, she pointed to another corner, where a thick wooden door banded with iron bars stood. ¡°And that¡¯s the back door. It¡¯s mostly for deliveries, but that¡¯s also where the water tanks are.¡±


    Curious, I followed, and Elle unlatched the heavy looking door, which swung out instead of in, revealing another area of the tavern I¡¯d never seen before. There were two huge tanks attached to the side of the building, one with a large valve and spigot on the bottom, one with a large pipe that connected it to the tavern.


    ¡°Woah,¡± I said, staring up at the tanks. I couldn¡¯t believe I hadn¡¯t noticed these before, but like the outdoor seating area out front, this section of the tavern was covered by a little roof and shielded from the street by a little shoulder high wall and a gate.


    ¡°Yep, these are the tanks for clean and dirty water,¡± Elle said, knocking on the one with the valve with her knuckles. ¡°Every two weeks the druids come by and top off the fresh water and, uh¡­ collect the dirty water. They have to take it back to a special facility to clean it, but I hear there¡¯s some really expensive taverns in the capital that can afford tanks with the purifying runes built right into them.¡±


    ¡°Huh, that¡¯s really neat actually,¡± I said, since I was past the point of being surprised by the amount of infrastructure that this world managed to cover with applications of magic and ingenuity. ¡°I guess those barrels there are for filling with water and hauling inside?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± Elle said, patting the top of one of the rows of wooden barrels placed next to the tank with the valve. ¡°But they¡¯re really heavy, so it¡¯s a good thing you¡¯ve got me. Let¡¯s go tackle those dishes, hmm?¡±


    With that we returned the way we¡¯d come, ending up back in the kitchen before the sink, which Elle once again filled with the use of her magic. The sight of it once again had me buzzing with a mixture of excitement to learn magic, and jealousy that I wasn¡¯t already learning magic.


    ¡°Soooo¡­¡± Elle began, in what she probably thought was a casual tone, while water was still gushing from her palms. ¡°Are you gona go?¡±


    ¡°Are you ticklish, Elle?¡± I asked.


    ¡°W-what?¡± Elle asked, the tips of her ears going slightly green.


    ¡°I''m just wondering what''d happen if I poked you in the sides while you''re doing that. Would you be able to stop the spell in time, or would you just start flailing and send water everywhere?¡± I asked, inching a little closer and wiggling my fingers ominously.


    ¡°P-p-point taken!¡± Elle said, squirming away from me, already fighting off giggles without me having to even do anything. I paused long enough to bring a hand to my chin and ¡°Hmmm¡± as though I was seriously thinking it over.


    ¡°Mercy, please!¡± Elle pleaded, biting one of her lips in an attempt to stop giggling. ¡°I''ll buy you something from baker''s row tomorrow!¡±


    ¡°Deal,¡± I said without hesitation, stepping back and hopping onto the empty crate turned step stool from the night before that Elle had helpfully retrieved on the way back from the storeroom.


    I grinned while Elle heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief and slumped forward, then shut off the flow of water from her hands, both sinks once again two-thirds full of water.


    ¡°You''re lucky you''re so cute, you little goblin,¡± Elle said as she stood on her toes and grabbed the soap from the cabinets above the sink. That knocked the grin right off my face and left me desperately grasping for some kind of witty retort.


    ¡°Sh-shut up,¡± I managed to sputter out. Nailed it.


    Elle giggled, pouring the floral liquid into her half of the sink, filling it with fragrant bubbles. She grabbed the nearest stack of dishes and slid them into the sink, and soon we were once again working in the same rhythm as the night before; Elle washed and rinsed, and dried and stacked.


    While I didn¡¯t think I would ever find the chore fun exactly, there was something nice and relaxing about the process. It was simple, and repetitive, and I could easily get lost in it while thinking about everything that had happened throughout the day, or just thinking about nothing when I got tired of that.


    ¡°How¡¯s it going in here?¡± Mel¡¯s voice broke me out of the trance, poking her head in through the service window and resting her chin on top of her crossed arms.


    ¡°Almost done,¡± Elle replied over her shoulder with a smile, easing the last stack of plates into the sink with a small splash. ¡°Honestly, I can¡¯t thank you enough for offering to help like this again, Sammie.¡±


    ¡°Well, I saw the size of that crowd,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°And, if you think about it, all these dishes are at least¡­ sort of because of me. I wasn¡¯t just gona leave you hanging like that. Besides¡­¡± I trailed off, momentarily losing the nerve to say what it was I wanted to say. It was stupid, I knew, especially with what I¡¯d overheard earlier in the day, when the three of us were taking a break in the park. Taking a deep breath and hoping the pause wasn¡¯t too conspicuous, I completed my thought.


    ¡°Besides, what else are friends for?¡±


    I continued to swirl the washrag inside of the already thoroughly dry cup I was holding while peeking at Elle out of the corner of my eye. She was smiling so widely it was a wonder she didn¡¯t pull something, and I think only the fact that she was up to her elbows in scummy, sudsy dishwater stopped her from throwing her arms around me.


    ¡°Right!¡± Elle said with something like triumph in her voice, and proceeded to scrub the remaining dishes with gusto.


    I let out a silent sigh of relief and did my best to keep up, stacking plates and hanging cups on hooks. Ordinarily I would never have said something so cheesy, or presumptuous, but I already knew that Elle had a vested interest in befriending me, and I really saw no reason not to return the sentiment. She and Mel seemed more than nice enough, and Elle liked to call me cute, which I still wasn''t sure how to feel about, not to mention how good she was at scratching around my ears¡­


    Ahem.


    So, just like that, I''d gained two new friends. Morgan would be so proud.


    Once the dishes were finished, Elle and I joined Mel out by the bar, where Felda was waiting with a glass in her hand, a small amount of amber liquid inside that one sniff told me was strongly alcoholic.


    ¡°Great work tonight, girls,¡± Felda said, motioning with her free hand to the bar, where once again she had stacked their payment for the night''s work. This time, there were two of the gold crabs instead of one and five silver clams, which I assumed was a bonus for the extra hectic shift covering the pirate''s visit. Curiously, there was also a stack of four silver clams, which Felda scooped up and presented to me.


    ¡°Oh, don''t tell me people are still donating,¡± I said with a sigh.


    ¡°No, no, I told them no more of that,¡± Felda said, smiling. ¡°These are from me, for helping out, both last night and tonight.¡±


    Hesitantly, I held out my palm for Felda to drop the coins into.


    ¡°I don''t know, it was just a few dishes,¡± I said, hefting the coins in my hand and listening to them clink together. ¡°All I did was dry them, Elle still did the hard part herself.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but easy work is still work, and I''d see you rewarded for it,¡± Felda said, her tone gentle, but it was clear she felt strongly about what she was saying. ¡°The last thing I want is for you to feel like your help is taken for granted.¡±


    Well, I couldn¡¯t really argue with that, even though I thought the chances of that happening were pretty miniscule. Nodding, I slipped the coins into my pockets.


    ¡°Does this mean Sammie gets a uniform now?¡± Elle asked eagerly.


    ¡°Never,¡± I said, crossing my arms firmly.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that,¡± Elle declared theatrically, then giggled, pressing her hands together. ¡°Soooo, after you get done fishing tomorrow, do you¡­ want to come by mine and Mel¡¯s place? We could have lunch! And then show you around the town some more!¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, sure, that sounds great,¡± I said, blinking up at Elle, who was grinning again. ¡°Though, I don¡¯t think I know where your place is.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, you wouldn''t have been to that part of town yet,¡± Elle said, beginning to motion with her hands. ¡°Okay, so, if you go to the corner at the end of this street and head up, go past the main road, then left at the next crossing when you see the park, you should be able to find the residential district. Then, just follow the signs, we''re in Court Number Three, the first house on the right. Here, I''ll write it down for you.¡±


    Elle stopped pointing in various directions that I assumed corresponded with her instructions, and instead retrieved one of the little slates with paper tacked to them that she and Mel used to take orders, quickly scribbling down a hopefully condensed version of everything she''d just said and passing it to me.


    ¡°Uh, thanks,¡± I said, accepting the slip of paper and glancing at it before folding it up and putting it in my pocket as well. ¡°I probably won''t come right over though. After I get back from fishing I''ll most likely need¡­¡± It pained me to continue, but, judging from the day I''d just had, I knew it was the truth.


    ¡°A nap,¡± I admitted with a sigh. ¡°Just a quick one.¡±


    Then probably another one closer to the evening. I really hadn''t fully come to terms with just how many catnaps awaited in my future, but it was starting to sink in.


    ¡°That''s totally fine,¡± Elle said, voice mild and composed, the smile frozen onto her face. I raised an eyebrow, having been expecting something like another delighted squeal at that.


    ¡°That''s it?¡± I asked, suspicious.


    ¡°I didn''t say anything,¡± Elle said, trying and failing to maintain that innocent smile.


    ¡°You were thinking it,¡± I said, huffing and rolling my eyes. ¡°I guess I can''t really deny it though, it is kind of¡­ cute.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Elle agreed, nodding sagely, then bending forward and placing both hands on my cheeks, mooshing them in while I did my best to deadpan back at her. ¡°It should be illegal, how cute you are.¡±


    ¡°Alright, that''s enough of that, c''mon you,¡± Mel said, snagging one of Elle¡¯s arms and gently tugging her towards the door. ¡°We''ll see you both tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay!¡± Elle gasped, stumbling after while awkwardly trying to throw her cloak over her shoulders and wave at me and Felda at the same time. ¡°See you tomorrow, Sammie!¡±


    ¡°Seeya,¡± I said, smiling at the pair''s antics. They slipped out the doors, and Felda went over to re-latch them, then turned to me.


    ¡°Ready for bed?¡± Felda asked, moving to the first of the many glass-walled lanterns mounted around the tavern, opening it and blowing out the candle inside, taking with it much more light than a single small candle should account for. I hadn''t noticed it before, probably because I''d had no need to, but the Tavern was lit by a surprisingly small number of candles, all placed quite far from one another, each one in one in a mounted lantern of black metal and slightly green tinted glass.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes,¡± Felda said at my lack of an answer, and I blinked and shook my head.


    ¡°Sorry, I was just¡­ are those candles magic? Or is it the lanterns?¡± I asked when Felda blew out a second candle, leaving a whole half of the tavern in shadow.


    ¡°The lanterns,¡± Felda said with a smile, waving me over to the third without extinguishing it. I strode over and she tapped a finger on one of the glass walls. I could now see that there was a closed loop of tiny etched symbols in the glass, running along the outermost edge of each tiny square. I squinted, feeling like I could almost read them if I stared hard enough.


    ¡°They¡¯re enchanted to make the candles last longer and make the light more powerful,¡± Felda explained, opening the little door, and I saw another ring of symbols in the metal base of the center, where the candle was wedged. Felda gently blew it out, and now the only light left was from the last lantern, the one nearest to the stairs behind the bar.


    ¡°You go on ahead, Sam,¡± Felda said when she reached the last lantern, lifting it from its mount. ¡°I still have a few things to take care of out here.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay,¡± I said, continuing past and up the short set of stairs that led to Felda¡¯s room. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was actually true or if she was just giving me a bit of time alone to change before she showed up, but either way I appreciated it.


    I found the soft pajamas waiting for me on the bedside table, folded up underneath the hair brush. I froze at the sight of it, but only for a second, before I reached out and slid it off onto the table. I changed slowly, telling myself I was not stalling, just being careful. When I took the time to dutifully fold up my clothes, I admitted that maybe I was stalling, a little. When I sat on the edge of the bed and just stared warily at the brush as though it were a loaded gun that could go off at any second, I conceded that I was stalling, and that I was being stupid.


    ¡°It''s just a brush,¡± I grumbled to myself, reaching out. And yet, my hand refused to close around the handle.


    That was where Felda found me when she entered; half off the edge of the bed, arm outstretched towards the brush. Nerves and embarrassment overtook my fear, and I snatched the brush up and held it to my chest in a white knuckled grip.


    Felda just smiled as she entered, still carrying the lantern with her, though she had somehow lowered the intensity of it so that the light didn''t fill up the entire room. I nodded back at her, clearing my throat and turning my back to her so she could prepare herself for bed as well.


    I sat with the brush in my lap, turning it over and over while I waited for Felda to finish, and hoped against hope that she would just blow out the candle and climb straight into bed without asking any annoying questions like ¡°Why haven''t you started brushing your hair yet?¡± or, even worse, ¡°What''s wrong?¡±


    Somehow, Felda still managed to beat my predictions. I felt her weight settle on the opposite side of the bed, then jumped when I felt her lean over, her voice at my back.


    ¡°Would you like some help, Sam?¡±


    I turned to look, hesitantly, and found Felda smiling as patiently as always, wearing a short, soft-looking robe that was, thankfully, cinched tightly. I opened my mouth to refuse, but the words died in my throat. Silently, I nodded, and offered the brush when she held out her hand.


    ¡°Wait right there,¡± Felda said, standing up and crossing the room to her writing desk, reaching under it to retrieve something. She carried it back and set it before Sam, revealing a squat padded footstool, which she patted and smiled. Obligingly, I slid off the bed and perched on the stool, while Felda took a seat where I had been, and I had to bite my lip when I felt her presence settle in behind me, enveloping me like a warm blanket.


    ¡°Let''s see now,¡± Felda said softly, and I felt her fingers in my hair, her hands deft and gentle despite how large they were, followed by the firm bristles of the brush. She moved slowly, starting from the bottom, carefully coaxing the frizzy mass of orange hair out of the disheveled mess it had worked itself into after two days of neglect, so gentle I never once felt anything more than the slightest tug. I was tense, anxious, with my shoulders hunched up so high it was a wonder Felda was able to get anything done, but eventually I could feel the effects of her attentions on my scalp begin to take hold. My muscles relaxed, my heart rate started to slow, and, like a turtle coming out of its shell, I stopped trying to curl inward on myself, sitting up straighter on the stool. I purred, weakly, starting and stopping as my mind went to war with itself.


    This is wrong, a voice insisted. Mine, I thought.


    What¡¯s wrong? I questioned.


    All of it, the voice answered. It''s all wrong, everything you''ve said and done since the moment you arrived here. You should be ashamed of yourself, the way you''ve acted, the way you''ve let them treat you.


    I¡­ I am! I protested, wincing at the obvious lie. The feeling of the bristles gliding through my hair was no longer soothing, the sensation drawing memories to the surface that radiated danger, like a hot stovetop I desperately didn¡¯t want to lay my hand on, but was being inexorably drawn to nonetheless.


    Don''t lie to me! You''re enjoying it! Sitting there, letting her treat you like a¡­ like a¡­


    The corners of my eyes prickled, hot tears welling up behind them, threatening to spill over second, and I squeezed them shut.


    Stop crying! the voice commanded, a voice I only just realized wasn''t my own, an echo from a memory long buried. I choked back a sob. Stop fucking crying like a little fucking girl all the fucking time!


    I was no longer in Felda¡¯s bedroom. I was back home, in the kitchen. I was younger, I knew that, but how much so I couldn¡¯t say. I¡¯d been hauled out of the bathroom to stand trial, the offending evidence being waved in front of my face in my father¡¯s hand.


    Where did this come from? he¡¯d demanded, shaking the item clenched in his fist. It was a hairbrush, cheap and plastic, something you could find a dozen of on the shelves of any corner shop next to the hair ties and bobby pins. A completely innocuous item, inoffensive in every way except for one small detail; its flimsy plastic body was pink.


    I¡¯d been over to Morgan¡¯s house earlier that day, after school. Her mom had made a comment about my hair being unkempt, and while Morgan had gotten mad, I didn''t mind. I didn¡¯t have a comb with me though, so Morgan had let me use a spare brush, and when I¡¯d remarked how much more I liked using it, she said I could borrow it.


    I said none of this, too afraid that this inexplicable outrage would be directed towards Morgan if I did. Then, as now, I was unable to stop crying or form any coherent words of explanation. Then, as now, I had no idea why my father was so upset, why my mother stood silently off to the side, confusion and apprehension naked on her face.


    The next day at school, the kids made fun of my freshly buzzed hair, and I apologized to Morgan for losing her brush.


    At some point, I must have been transferred to Felda¡¯s lap. That was where I found myself when I came back into awareness, groggy and sore, my eyes burning and my cheeks feeling like they¡¯d been scoured by sandpaper. Felda was clutching me tightly to her chest, one hand on the back of my head, and she was humming snatches of a soothing tune into my ears in between deep, shaky breaths.


    ¡°Mmnhh¡­¡± I tried to speak, but my mouth was too dry, my lips glued shut. I heard Felda gasp.


    ¡°Sam?¡±


    There was a tremor in her voice that felt so incongruous I wondered if I was still dreaming. Felda¡¯s hold on me eased slightly and I was able to lean back and crack my eyes open, peering up at her. Her brows were a tangled knot of worry, and her eyes were wet.


    Why?


    ¡°Samantha?!¡±


    Who?


    Oh.


    She means me.


    ¡°Nnnhh...¡± I grunted, swallowing. My throat felt raw.


    ¡°Are you with me, Sam?¡± she asked desperately. My answer was another hoarse croak, and Felda shifted, reaching for something outside of my narrow field of vision.


    ¡°Ah, sorry, you must be parched, here¡­¡±


    I felt cold metal pressed to my lips, and water sloshing against them. It was the canteen I''d bought earlier today. I''d had the foresight to fill it before returning, and I was thankful now as I took big, greedy gulps of the cool water until Felda pulled it back.


    ¡°Not too fast,¡± she said softly, her free hand stroking my back. ¡°You''ll make yourself sick.¡±


    ¡°Thanks¡­¡± I coughed, feeling some life finally return to me as the water soothed my sore throat.


    ¡°Are you¡­ feeling better?¡± Felda asked, cautiously.


    I honestly didn''t know, but there was no way I could explain all that in one or two words, so I just shrugged.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry for not realizing what was happening sooner,¡± Felda said, still visibly distressed, voice overflowing with concern. ¡°It happened so fast, I didn¡¯t¡­ was I¡­ was there something about the way I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not¡­ your fault¡­¡± I grated out, squeezing my eyes shut. Now that sensation was returning to my body I could feel how much it was aching, my head throbbing painfully, reminding me of when I¡¯d first woken up in this very room. It hurt to talk. It hurt to think. I didn¡¯t want to approach any aspect of what had just happened with a twenty-foot pole, but even then I could not have Felda thinking she was to blame. I motioned for her to bring the canteen closer, and she did so.


    ¡°Is there anything else I can do?¡± Felda asked while I drank, more slowly this time. ¡°Do you need anything? More water? Food? I can make you anything you want, just ask.¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡± I said as soon as I¡¯d finished swallowing, if only to stop her from further bending herself over backwards just for me. ¡°Just¡­ tired¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course,¡± Felda said, and then I was moving. She stood up slowly, bringing me with her, lifting me as if I weighed nothing at all. There was a creak of wood and a rustle of blankets, and I felt my back settle onto Felda¡¯s mattress.


    ¡°Would you¡­ prefer to have some space, or¡ª¡±


    My hand shot out and clutched at the sleeve of Felda¡¯s robe before she could finish. I wasn¡¯t sure of anything at the moment, other than the fact that I did not want to be left alone. Felda obliged, and when she settled into the bed alongside me, it wasn¡¯t with the generous gap she¡¯d left the previous night. Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, I pressed myself into the space between her arm and her side, and felt her shift to accommodate me.


    Pathetic¡­ weak¡­


    I shivered and clung tighter to Felda, pushing the voice away until I could finally slip into a fitful, dreamless sleep.


    ¡ö


    It was still dark when I opened my eyes again. I was warm, and my head was resting in the crook of one of Felda¡¯s arms, the other wrapped around me from behind, the gentle rumble of her slow breathing against my back making me feel like I was cuddling a sleeping bear. I had rolled over onto my side in my sleep and Felda had come with me, and I was now entombed in the position of little spoon.


    I felt¡­ Well, I wasn''t on the verge of another breakdown, at least. I was cozy, and well rested, and I got the feeling that it wouldn''t be too hard for me to nod off again if I chose to stay put, but already I was growing fidgety. I wanted to get up and move around, and the heat was quickly becoming less comfortable and more oppressive.


    Slowly, so as not to disturb Felda, I untangled myself from her arms and slid free, scooting to the opposite edge of the bed on my belly. I swung my legs over and stood, spending almost half a minute just stretching my arms towards the sky and trying not to groan.


    I poked around quietly in the darkness, finding my clothes from the day before and slipping back into them, then retrieved my sandals from the foot of the bed. I knew I couldn''t leave through the tavern doors because I''d be unable to lock them behind me, but that was no longer a problem.


    I moved to the window that I had gotten my first glimpse of this world through, and carefully slid it open.


    ¡°Sam.¡±


    I jumped, my hair and fur standing on end at Felda¡¯s quiet voice behind me. There was no question or confusion in the tone, not like Felda had just woken up by chance, but more like she''d been awake the whole time, and only spoke up now that she knew what I was up to.


    I turned back, meeting Felda¡¯s gaze. She had not sat up, only opened her eyes to watch me, which I took as a sign that she didn¡¯t intend to stop me.


    ¡°Are you going somewhere?¡± Felda asked calmly, studying me from her reclining position.


    ¡°I just need some air,¡± I said, glancing out the window again.


    Felda closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she spoke again.


    ¡°Can you promise me you¡¯ll be back?¡±


    I furrowed my brow at that. Did she think I was running away? The thought hadn¡¯t even crossed my mind, so absurd that I chuckled despite myself.


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said, in what I hoped was a genuine tone. ¡°I promise, I¡¯ll be back in a bit, I just need some time to think.¡±


    ¡°Alright Sam,¡± Felda said with another sigh and a small, tired smile. ¡°I trust you. Try not to get into any trouble.¡±


    I smiled back, and then finished pushing the window up, slipping out onto a section of the same sloped awning that surrounded the tavern, this one much narrower as it had to avoid touching the mirroring awning of the adjacent building, another tavern. There was a gap between the overhangs of about three feet, the space between the buildings forming one of many short alleyways that connected the docks on the right with the outermost street of the village to my left.


    It would have been easy to step across the gap and end up on the roof of the neighboring tavern, but I was pretty sure getting caught climbing around on top of other people¡¯s businesses counted as ¡°getting into trouble,¡± so I just slid to the edge of the awning and swung myself into the gap, dropping into the alleyway and landing lightly on my feet. I deliberated for a moment on which direction to take my nighttime wandering, before deciding on the docks. I emerged into the moonlight and took a deep breath, then, since I knew that the boat Bart called home was to my right, I turned left, and started to amble slowly down the docks. As I went, my thoughts swirled like a stormfront, building and building until I couldn¡¯t ignore them anymore.


    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± I asked the cold night air after a minute of walking in silence.


    The¡­ event, the memory that I¡¯d just relived was still burning away in a corner of my mind, stinging like a fresh wound. If pressed, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to say if I¡¯d even remembered it happening until it all came flooding back at once, but now it was all I could do to not think about it. I had always known there was a reason I hated getting my hair cut, but had not actually examined the root of that aversion in such a long time.


    Once I got to high school, I had frequently been teased for getting caught staring at the girls in class, even though it was just their hair I¡¯d been looking at, not their bodies. It wasn¡¯t fair that they were allowed to grow their hair as long as they wanted, I remembered thinking, while my parents never liked mine to even reach past my chin, and I was so intensely resentful of that fact, never understanding why it bothered me so much. I found myself reaching up, catching a lock of orange hair and gingerly twisting it between my fingers, feeling a sudden thrill jolt through me, followed immediately by a wave of shame.


    ¡°Ugh, what is wrong with me?¡± I groaned in frustration, stopping and pressing my hands to the sides of my head, squeezing as though I could wring the answers out of my brain like juicing a lemon.


    Nothing came out. I had no idea what was wrong with me, only a renewed awareness that there was something wrong with me. I started walking again.


    I shook my head. That was a dead end. I¡¯d never been able to think my way out of that conundrum before, and I wasn¡¯t likely to manage it tonight, so I switched focus.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s be more specific; what is wrong with my emotions?¡±


    That seemed like an easier question to answer. So easy that I kind of felt like an idiot for even being confused in the first place. I hadn¡¯t paid super close attention in health class when we¡¯d been covering puberty, but I remembered enough about the discussions on hormones to realize that this body, my body, must have been chock full of them. Girls had more hormones than boys, right?


    ¡°Wait, no, that¡¯s not it¡­¡± I sighed, furrowing my brow and pressing my knuckles to my forehead. ¡°Not more, just¡­ different ones, right?¡±


    Ugh, I should have paid more attention to that class.


    Either way, it was obvious now that my out of control emotions were no different than my sudden cravings for seafood, or my appreciation for having my head petted, or this newest urge to climb to high places. They were part of my body, something I would have to get used to, and learn to control all over again. I definitely couldn¡¯t spend the rest of however long I was here bawling my eyes out at the drop of a hat whenever something mildly upsetting flashed across my mind. I just needed to remind myself that I was still me, despite having the body of a five-foot-nothing half-cat half-girl thing.


    Too bad I didn¡¯t have a single clue how to do that. I wasn¡¯t even sure I knew what being me even meant anymore.


    ¡°Mrow.¡±


    The noise cut through the swirling storm of conflicted emotions and helpless thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me. It was a meow, and it had come from a cat that was perched on top of a wooden post a few feet to my right. The cat was all black, except for its front left paw, which was white, and had large blue eyes that twinkled as it regarded me.


    I let out a huff, casting my eyes towards the sky.


    ¡°Is this your idea of a joke, huh?¡± I demanded of the quiet night''s sky, throwing my arms wide. ¡°Is this the universe saying ¡®You''re a cat now, get used to it,¡¯ huh?¡±


    The sky, the universe, and whatever gods did or did not exist in this world, none of them deigned to answer. I sighed and dropped my arms, then looked at the cat.


    ¡°Mow,¡± it said, leaning slightly forward on the post.


    ¡°Don''t you start,¡± I said, jabbing a finger at it, then, with a quick glance up and down the docks, I took a step towards the pillar.


    Rather than shy away, the cat stretched itself forward on its perch, meeting the hand I had been cautiously extending. I let it rub its cheeks against my palm a few times before I turned my hand over and began to gently scratch the top of its head with my claws.


    ¡°Bet you couldn''t sleep either, huh,¡± I said, smirking, still feeling somewhat ridiculous. I brought my free hand to my forehead and brushed it back across my scalp. ¡°Ugh, is this weird? This is weird, isn''t it? It''s like when you see Goofy standing next to Pluto.¡±


    The cat, which had been contentedly purring away, let out another, squeakier meow, and I paused, narrowing my eyes.


    ¡°You can''t understand me, right? Please tell me that¡¯s not another crazy cat power I have, I don''t think I could handle that right now.¡±


    The cat continued to stare at me, then sat up slightly on its back legs, raising one of its forepaws and pawing insistently at my stilled hand, meowing again.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± I said, resuming my scritches, much to my new acquaintance¡¯s delight. ¡°You''re lucky I know exactly how good this feels.¡±


    As I scratched and rubbed, the cat tilted its head this way and that, and I finally noticed the collar around its neck. It was made of blue leather with a bright golden buckle, and a little metal tag that dangled from the front. Curious, I reached for the tag and held it up to the moonlight.


    ¡°Mittens,¡± I read aloud. I met the cat''s eyes, then glanced down at its single white paw, furrowing my brow. ¡°But¡­ you only have¡­ I''m sorry, Mittens, but I think your owner could have tried a little harder.¡±


    Mittens meowed in agreement. At least, I thought so, anyway. Eventually, Mittens seemed to get their fill, and hopped down from the pillar, beginning to trot away in the direction of the village.


    ¡°Uh, seeya,¡± I called, waving, infinitely glad that there was absolutely no one around to see me. Mitten¡¯s tail flicked once, and then they disappeared down an alleyway.


    Left alone on the docks again, I felt the small smile I''d been wearing for the last few minutes slip from my face, and I continued my walk. My legs were getting a little tired, so I turned at the next empty dock, walking to the very end of it and plopping down with my legs dangling over the edge. For a time, I just sat, listening to the waves passing underneath me and staring out at the ocean. It looked like a scene out of a painting, the wide open horizon occasionally broken up by the surrounding islands,, the pink moon hanging low in the sky, just a shade less than full. I took another deep breath, and let it out in a long, slow sigh, as though I could expel all my worries into the air and have them float away on the breeze.


    Before I could spend another second brooding, the water beneath me rippled, and a figure emerged from beneath the surface, gasping for air.


    I blinked, as Duke pushed his soaked, sandy-blond hair out of his face, opened his eyes, then jerked backwards as he realized he¡¯d popped up right in front of me.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to stop meeting like this,¡± I said dryly, smirking.


    ¡°What?¡± Duke asked, wetly, furrowing his brow and shaking his head. ¡°What are you¡­ Look, this ain''t¡­ I swear, I ain''t followin¡¯ you!¡±


    I snickered, shifting sideways so Duke could reach up and grab the edge of the dock and haul himself out of the water.


    ¡°Alright, I''ll believe you, but if it happens one more time¡­¡± I said, chuckling to show I wasn''t serious. Duke walked several paces up the dock, and I thought he was just leaving, but he suddenly stopped and shook not just his head but his whole body, flinging water off him in all directions. Satisfied, Duke returned and took a seat beside me, but left plenty of space between us, and for a moment silence returned to the docks, neither of us seemingly knowing what to say.


    ¡°Alright, it''s my turn,¡± Duke said, turning away from the water to scrutinize me. ¡°What''re you doin¡¯ out here this late?¡±


    ¡°I couldn''t sleep,¡± I said, sighing and leaning back, propping myself up on my palms. ¡°Needed to get some fresh air, needed to¡­ think about some stuff.¡±


    Duke made an understanding hum and nodded.


    ¡°Heh, me too,¡± Duke said, chuckling. ¡°I got to go with Zev t''morrow to meet the mayor of this place.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, tilting my head.


    ¡°Eh, it''s like a politics thing. Since all pirate captains are technically ambassadors, it''s common practice for them to, y¡¯know, establish good relations with the head authority wherever we make port,¡± Duke explained, staring off into the distance again. ¡°Ensure them that we aren''t being tailed by hostile ships, won''t bring any trouble to their doorstep, maybe exchange a bit of information, that kinda stuff. Also shows that they acknowledge the council, that¡¯s important too.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said simply. That made a fair bit of sense, but wasn''t actually what I''d been asking for. ¡°I mean why do you have to go? Sounds like you''re not fond of it.¡±


    ¡°I ain''t,¡± Duke said, smirking sidelong at me. ¡°You can never tell with people who''re put in charge of other people. Sometimes they''re fine, and sometimes it makes ¡®em¡­ unpleasant. Even though Zev does all the talkin¡¯, I still don''t like these meetin''s.¡± Duke took a deep breath in through his nose before continuing, ¡°But, I still gota go. Where Zev goes, I go.¡±


    ¡°Whhhhy?¡± I asked again, raising one eyebrow.


    ¡°I''m his¡­ ah, shit, what''s the word?¡± Duke trailed off, furrowing his brow in thought and muttering. ¡°In Kurma it''s sword hand but I don''t know if that translates¡­ Oh, bodyguard, that''s it!¡±


    ¡°Ooh,¡± I said, keeping my face perfectly neutral. Duke''s voice had very briefly shifted in the same intangible way that I''d come to recognize as someone speaking in another language, which my brain still seemed to be able to automatically translate into English. ¡°Does he really need a bodyguard though? Isn''t he a wizard?¡±


    Duke let out a snort that turned into a chuckle, grinning at me.


    ¡°You ain''t met too many mages, have you?¡± he asked. ¡°Sure, magic makes ¡®em powerful, but unless they''ve been specifically balancin¡¯ out their arcane studies with actual physical exercise, most serious mages ain''t worth fuck in an up-close fight.¡±


    I snickered a little and nodded. ¡°Oh, I guess that makes sense. So you''re there to make sure nobody just runs up and stabs him while he''s waving a wand around?¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Duke said, grinning and nodding back. ¡°It''s pretty standard practice for mages to pair up with someone strong to watch their backs, some of the most famous mages in history had equally famous warriors at their sides. Some places even make a whole ceremony out of it, a mage and their sword comin¡¯ together¡­¡±


    Duke trailed off again, a wistful smile on his face as he gazed out at the horizon, his tail starting to wag.


    I blinked, then quickly turned my whole body away so there was no chance of Duke seeing my face as I alternated between flushing with embarrassment and grinning triumphantly.


    Ha! I knew Mel was wrong! There''s no way he''s into me, he''s got it bad for his captain!


    Thankfully, by the time Duke looked my way again, I had gotten ahold of myself and schooled my expression, so I was able to respond with just a small smile.


    ¡°That sounds really nice,¡± I said. ¡°I bet Captain Zevrelos is¡­ lucky to have a bodyguard like you.¡±


    ¡°Heh, yeah, f''it weren''t for me he''d be dead a dozen times over,¡± Duke said proudly, then glanced out at the ocean and huffed. ¡°Now if only I could get him to come swimmin¡¯ with me a few times a week, maybe he''d need less savin¡¯.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ really like swimming, huh?¡± I asked, unable to stop my voice from wobbling slightly. That wasn''t really the important part of what he''d just said, but it was the part my brain had latched onto.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, I love swimmin¡¯!¡± Duke said, visibly perking up, and I felt my stomach lurch. ¡°It¡¯s the number one skill any sailor should master, it could wind up savin¡¯ your life if you fall overboard in rough waters. It''s also great exercise, really refreshin¡¯, helps you build stamina too! What''s not to like?¡±


    ¡°S-so I''ve been told,¡± I said, my hands gripping the edge of the dock so hard I was sure I was leaving scratches on the underside. Duke noticed my distress, obvious as it was, and the excited smile slipped from his face in an instant.


    ¡°Woah, what, uh, what''s wrong?¡± Duke asked, starting to rise from his seat, but I held up a hand.


    ¡°Nothing!¡± I all but yelled, burying my face in my other hand. My already sore, overworked eyes were stinging again. I grit my teeth. ¡°Just¡­ tell me¡­ what else do you like about swimming?¡±


    I could feel Duke¡¯s eyes on me, and heard the hesitation in his voice, but he did finally speak again. ¡°Well, I¡­ like the way it feels? It''s¡­ relaxing, especially after a long day. No matter how angry or, y¡¯know, stressed or in my own head I get, I can always go for a quick swim and feel much better after¡­¡±


    God¡­ that¡¯s just the kinda thing she would say¡­


    I had both hands pressed to my face now, and though I could feel the tears falling onto my palms, I was determined not to start sobbing again, at the very least. I hated this. I hated feeling so pathetic, hated not knowing what the next thing that would set me off and reduce me to tears would be, and hated that I couldn¡¯t seem to do anything about it.


    But, most of all? I just missed my friends. Morgan especially, but even the ones I wasn¡¯t really friends with. Hell, I even missed Chad.


    Finally, I lifted my head out of my hands, sniffling grossly and trying to wipe my palms off on my pants.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I croaked, staring into the water off the end of the dock since I didn¡¯t feel like I could meet Duke¡¯s eyes at the moment. ¡°You just¡­ you sounded like a friend of mine, someone I knew before I¡­ before I ended up here. She was really into swimming too.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Duke said, quietly. That was all he said, for several moments, and I wouldn¡¯t have blamed him if he didn¡¯t say anything else, or if he just got up and left. He was a pirate, after all, and even by this world¡¯s standards of what ¡°pirate¡± meant, he was still someone who regularly came face to face with life-threatening danger. As nice as he seemed, and as much as he¡¯d forgiven me for my slip up earlier in the night, we were still basically strangers, and I couldn¡¯t imagine him wanting to put up with my petty little personal problems.


    ¡°By the tides, I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    Duke¡¯s voice was soft, and laden with sympathy. I couldn¡¯t stop myself from hating the sound of it any more than I could stop myself from latching onto it like a drowning sailor being tossed a life ring. I turned my head, and Duke was looking at me with sadness of his own in his eyes, his ears pulled back against his head.


    ¡°Did she¡­ pass, or¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± I said, cutting him off before he could get carried away. ¡°No, she¡¯s alive, but it hardly matters for me. She¡¯s¡­ back home, where I came from, and I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Duke said, tone lightening only slightly. ¡°Then, I take it it weren¡¯t really your choice, to be here?¡± I shook my head, and Duke tilted his, furrowing his brow. ¡°And¡­ is there no way for you to return to where you came from?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said, bringing a hand to my forehead. ¡°I want to, but right now it seems impossible, and I guess I haven¡¯t really taken the time to stop and think about what that means. I had friends there, and a life, kind of, and¡­¡±


    I trailed off, the words I¡¯d been intending to say dying on my lips.


    ¡°And a family?¡± Duke offered, and I coughed and cleared my throat.


    ¡°Y-yeah, that too.¡±


    An awkward silence hung in the air for a few seconds after that. Of course I had a family. I had a mom, and a dad, and two brothers, one older and one younger. I should be just as sad at the prospect of never seeing any of them again as my friends from school, shouldn¡¯t I?


    Shouldn¡¯t I?


    ¡°Well,¡± Duke said, thankfully breaking my train of thought with his surprisingly chipper tone. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much this helps, but if this friend of yours ain¡¯t dead, then she could be out there lookin¡¯ for you too! She might even turn up right here on these docks someday, so don¡¯t go givin¡¯ up!¡±


    ¡°Heh¡­¡± I laughed at that, once, then again as the idea continued to play out in my mind, even though it was painful to think about. Soon, I was laughing, and crying, in equal measure, until I flopped backwards onto the dock, staring up at the starry sky and alternating between chuckling and sniffling.


    Duke looked confused, but glad to have helped, and I didn¡¯t have the heart to tell him how impossible it was that Morgan would ever show up here.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, pushing a small smile onto my face. ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning on giving up, but I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±


    ¡°Y¡¯welcome,¡± Duke said, grinning in the moonlight. ¡°I ain¡¯t a smooth talker like Zev, but I know how t¡¯cheer someone up.¡±


    ¡°Well, I appreciate it,¡± I said idly, remaining sprawled out on my back for the moment. ¡°I didn¡¯t think a tough guy like you had it in you to say all that sappy stuff.¡±


    ¡°Sappy?¡± Duke asked, tilting his head down at me and raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yeah, y¡¯know, like¡­ mushy, emotional stuff. ¡®Girly stuff¡¯,¡± I said, the words leaving my mouth without any thought. Duke¡¯s head tilted even further and his eyes narrowed incredulously.


    ¡°Do¡­ you think only girls have emotions?¡± Duke asked, seriously, and I blinked.


    ¡°N-no, no! I don¡¯t think that at all, but a lot of the other¡­ the other kids I grew up around me sure did,¡± I said, sighing as I remembered how skilled the other boys at school were at sniffing out and ridiculing any kind of emotional attachments, even at a young age.


    ¡°What kinda fool goes around teaching kids dreck like that?¡± Duke asked, his confusion quickly turning into irritation.


    ¡°Well, no one taught them that, exactly,¡± I said, waving a hand in the air. ¡°Nobody sat us all down one day and spelled it out, everyone just¡­ seemed to act like¡­ that was the way¡­¡± I trailed off, dropping my hand and furrowing my brow. It really didn¡¯t make sense, if you didn¡¯t grow up going through it. I didn¡¯t know what kind of childhood Duke had had, but I would bet it was not at all similar to growing up subjected to the daily horrors of the American public school system.


    ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, Sam,¡± Duke said, sniffing and turning to look back at the ocean. ¡°But the more I hear about this place you came from, the worse it sounds. They don¡¯t teach you about pirates, they don¡¯t teach you about the gods, and now this.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ fair,¡± I said, sighing and pressing a hand to my forehead, closing my eyes. I spent a few seconds just listening to the sounds of the waves, then took another deep breath and started to climb to my feet. ¡°I should head back now. Felda¡¯s probably worried sick.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah,¡± Duke said, hopping to his feet as well, pressing his hands into his back until it let out a popping noise. ¡°I should get back to the ship too.¡±


    We turned and walked alongside each other, back to the other end of the dock. Despite everything, I did feel a bit better. As we reached the points where our paths split, I looked up to Duke.


    ¡°Thanks again for trying to cheer me up,¡± I said, once again managing only half a smile.


    ¡°Sorry I couldn¡¯t do a better job of it,¡± Duke said with a bit of an edge, which immediately softened again when he spoke next. ¡°Agh, sorry, sorry, I mean you¡¯re welcome. Not yer fault you¡¯re from some fucked up, backward island where nothin¡¯ works right.¡±


    I snorted at that and nodded, then raised my hand to wave. ¡°I¡¯ll seeya later, Duke.¡±


    ¡°See you around, Sam,¡± Duke replied, walking backwards while giving me a lazy salute before turning around and heading off down the docks.


    I turned as well, and set off for the trek back to the Crooked Hook. I hadn¡¯t really solved anything, or come up with any answers for any of the many questions my mind was still flooded with, but for the moment it felt like I had successfully shoved enough of them onto the back burner that I could at least take a few steps without breaking down.


    Progress.


    I recognized Felda¡¯s tavern as much by its shape in the dark as by its smell. I couldn¡¯t tell what exactly it was about the mixture of salt and oil and fish that it gave off that was different from all the other taverns on the row that smelled of the exact same things, but somehow I just knew I was close before I even spotted it.


    The window to Felda¡¯s room was still open, and I could see dim light flickering in the room beyond. Making my way into the alley between the buildings, I deftly hopped onto a nearby barrel, then sprung off and latched onto the ledge of the overhanging awning, swinging myself up onto it and landing as light as a feather.


    ¡°Caaaat poweeers¡­¡± I whispered to myself as I crept towards the window. Peeking inside, I didn¡¯t see Felda in the bed. Instead, she was across the room, in front of her writing desk. I couldn¡¯t see well with the angle I was crouched at, but it looked like she was holding something in one hand, with the other pressed to her mouth. As she turned, the object in her hand caught the lantern light, and I saw it was a simple key, large and made of silvery metal. I also saw the expression on the half of her face that I could see past her hand. She was crying, or had been, but I ducked away from the window before I could get a close enough look, and before she could spot me.


    I¡­ she¡­ I should¡­ give her some warning that I¡¯m back. She was obviously dealing with an issue of her own as well, but I got the feeling that Felda didn¡¯t want me to know about that just yet.


    I backed up to the edge of the roof, biting my lip, then shifted my weight and deliberately let the sole of my sandal scrape along the shingles.


    ¡°Sam?¡± Felda¡¯s voice called from the open window, hushed but urgent.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s me,¡± I called back softly, standing up and doing my best to walk as slowly as I could towards the window, and to let my footsteps be heard as I did so. I could hear Felda clear her throat, and the sound of a drawer being pulled followed by a metallic thump as the key was, presumably, returned to wherever Felda kept it. Then, just as I reached the window, Felda appeared, eyes clear and bright, a warm tusky smile on her lips.


    ¡°Welcome back,¡± Felda said, offering me a hand to help me back through the window. ¡°Do you¡­ feel any better?¡±


    ¡°A little bit,¡± I said, slipping back inside the room, which had cooled a fair bit in my absence. I guessed that Felda had left the window open the entire time I¡¯d been gone.


    As soon as my feet were firmly on the floor I turned, and wrapped my arms around Felda¡¯s waist.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Felda said as I squeezed her, surprised, but she recovered quickly and I soon felt her arms close wrap around me as well. She didn¡¯t say anything else, just held me as tightly as I held her, one hand rubbing my back.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get back to sleep,¡± I said when I finally pulled my face out of Felda¡¯s stomach. I had to ask her where she got that robe.


    ¡°Good idea,¡± Felda said, releasing me as well. She headed for the bed and I followed, and she retrieved a folded bundle from on top of the sheets; my pajamas, discarded when I changed back into my day clothes before leaving. ¡°If you want some privacy, I can step out¡ª¡±


    ¡°Too tired, don¡¯t care,¡± I said, sighing and accepting the soft, cottony shirt and pants. ¡°Just don¡¯t peek.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it, Sam,¡± Felda said, smiling and patting my head once more before turning her back to me and climbing into her bed. I turned my back as well, and quickly shimmied back into my pajamas.


    Sliding back under the covers, I felt suddenly self-conscious about my choice of where exactly to sleep. I had wanted, or maybe needed, to hold onto Felda as tightly as possible before, but I wasn¡¯t feeling nearly as fragile anymore. At the same time, I didn¡¯t want to return to sleeping all the way across the bed, especially since I wasn¡¯t the only one who¡¯d come out of this incident emotionally distressed, even if Felda wasn¡¯t going to show it. A compromise then.


    I slid across the bed until I was just beside Felda, but not pressed right up against her body, but close enough that I might brush against her arm as I slept.


    ¡°Goodnight, Sam,¡± Felda said, once more settling her massive palm on the top of my head.


    ¡°G¡¯night,¡± I said, closing my eyes, letting Felda¡¯s warmth and the sound of my own purring lull me back into much needed sleep.


    ¡ö


    (Continued in Part 2)

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.10.2

    (Continued from part 1)


    The next day, I tried to tell myself that all I¡¯d needed was to sleep it off.


    Felda¡¯s voice woke me up again, and though I didn¡¯t feel groggy or tired like I¡¯d lost a whole hour of sleep to wandering the docks, the memories of the night before were still there to greet me as I sat up in bed. The shame, the anxiety, the confusion, all rushing back into the forefront of my mind while Felda spoke softly above me.


    ¡°Are you sure I can¡¯t convince you to skip today¡¯s lesson?¡± Felda asked, while I changed into a fresh set of clothes. Damn, I wondered when Dani would have the first of my custom clothes ready, I was already tired of the not-quite-right feel of the cheap clothes I¡¯d bought yesterday.


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± I said, sighing while I worked my tail through the hole in the back of my pants. ¡°If I skip today, then I¡¯ll find it harder to get back into it tomorrow, and even harder the day after that.¡±


    Felda capitulated at that, but I kind of got the feeling that she would wind up being right in the end anyway. I felt like utter crap, and not even a heaping plate of eggs with lobster, a side of bacon, and a cup of coffee could do anything to change that.


    While I sat and poked at my food, Felda pulled Bart aside, and I don¡¯t remember if she even offered an excuse. I simply swiveled my ears and strained my hearing while they whispered inside the kitchen.


    ¡°Try to be delicate with her today, please,¡± Felda said, which had me wrinkling my nose. I didn¡¯t know which part I hated more, that she thought I needed that or that I thought she might be right.


    ¡°Why? What happened?¡± Bart asked, quick to pick up that this was not just Felda asking out of her usual concern.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t know for sure,¡± Felda said, and I heard her rubbing her hand against her forehead. ¡°After she came home from shopping with the girls, Mel gave me a brush, said Sam wanted to buy it but seemed scared to. I didn¡¯t think anything of it at the time, but later I offered to brush her hair for her before bed.¡±


    I stabbed my fork through a strip of bacon and folded it over, cramming it into my mouth and chewing, in hopes that the sound of crunching would block out the conversation.


    ¡°It started out fine, she seemed a little tense but I thought it was just her usual skittishness, but then her breathing got heavy. Before I could ask what was wrong, she just¡­ collapsed in on herself and started sobbing like I¡¯d never seen before. It was some kind of attack; I wasn¡¯t sure at the time but I¡¯m certain of it now.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t mean¡­¡±


    ¡°Not like yours, no. I don¡¯t think that poor girl has ever seen a battlefield, thank all the gods that are and ever were, but something set her off, something about her hair. She wouldn¡¯t stop clutching at it, and I was worried she would¡­¡±


    This¡­ was not helping me feel better. Quite the contrary, even. It wasn¡¯t like it was even Bart or Felda¡¯s fault, they didn¡¯t know they needed to go even further away whenever they wanted to discuss my issues, and I couldn¡¯t just tell them now, not without making everything a thousand times worse. I dropped my fork onto my plate, only half eaten, and slid off my stool and made my way to the door, where mine and Bart¡¯s fishing gear waited. Slinging the case with my rod over my shoulder, I wrenched the door open and stepped out into the cold, pre-dawn gloom of the docks.


    Bart didn¡¯t say anything when he eventually stepped out to join me, loaded down with the rest of the gear. He didn¡¯t say anything as we made our way to the bait shop, where I waited outside rather than go in. He didn¡¯t say anything when he handed off the bait bucket to me and we continued on our way.


    It took until we were more than halfway through the hike out to the river before Bart did finally speak.


    ¡°Sam,¡± he began, clearing his throat. I didn¡¯t turn my head to look at him. ¡°I think we¡¯re going to take it easy today. No new techniques just yet, you just practice what we went over yesterday, and catch whatever you can.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said flatly. It wasn¡¯t like I could argue against that, I doubted I had the brain capacity to absorb a bunch of new facts about knots and bait and different types of fish at the moment.


    Silence followed us the rest of the way to the pond beside the tree. Once there, I unslung my rod and removed it from its case, and bent down over the bait bucket. Lifting the lid, I saw the minnows inside, swimming in circles. It might have been my imagination, but were there¡­ more of them in there today than yesterday?


    I glanced at Bart, who was once again filling the icebox with ice through the use of a magic spell. Was this his way of trying to make me feel better, buying extra minnows so I could snack on them?


    On any other day I might have been touched, but today I just felt sorry that he¡¯d wasted more money on me. I fished out a minnow and held it up to the hook in front of me, and had to actually focus on my hands in order to stop them from trembling long enough to feed the minnow onto the hook. Finally, I stood up and approached the edge of the pond. The cast I made was lazy and off target, but I still got it in the water. Bart offered me the ice chest to sit on, and I did so with a mumbled ¡°Thanks.¡±


    For the next hour, I succeeded only in frustrating myself further and putting in the worst fishing performance anyone ever had. My casts were all over the place, and my attention was shot. I¡¯d often only notice I was in the middle of a bite when Bart pointed it out, and no matter what I tried I could not get my hook to set. At some point, I just fell into the pattern of casting, then zoning out while staring at the slowly brightening sky, until I eventually reeled in an empty hook, then just grabbed another minnow to start the process over again.


    ¡°You know, if you just want to feed the local fish population, there are easier ways to go about it,¡± Bart eventually said, while I struggled to properly bait my book for maybe the tenth time. I glanced sidelong at him, and he cleared his throat. ¡°Ahem, sorry, I thought a joke might help. You¡­ like jokes, I¡¯ve noticed.¡±


    I snorted at that, then sighed, tossing the minnow I¡¯d been ineffectually poking back into the bucket. Was that the best he had? I liked jokes? He was like my grandpa on my mom''s side, who thought I still liked trains because I¡¯d said it once when I was seven, and only ever got me train gifts for my birthday.


    No, no, no he¡¯s not, that¡¯s not fair, I chided myself. He¡¯s trying his best, damnit.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, resting my rod across my lap. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ in a bad mood today. Probably should have listened to Felda.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡±


    ¡°Did she tell you what happened last night?¡± I asked, knowing full well the answer.


    ¡°She did,¡± Bart said, letting out a gruff, rumbling sigh from deep in his chest, and settling onto the ground beside me. Even perched on the icebox, our heads were about level.


    ¡°I can understand, perhaps better than she can, why you might not want to talk about it, especially to me,¡± Bart said after taking a moment to collect his thoughts. ¡°I know there''s probably little overlap with¡­ what you''ve been through and my own experiences, but¡­ sometimes just talking can help. And I urge you to trust me when I tell you that closing yourself off will definitely not help.¡±


    ¡°Mmh,¡± I grunted, noncommittally. Was that what I was doing?


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I said, reaching down beside me into the bait bucket and snatching up another minnow. I stared at it wriggling between my fingers for a moment, contemplating, before tossing it into my mouth. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to talk about it with you,¡± I said as I chewed, sighing through my nose. ¡°What happened last night was as much of a surprise to me as it was to Felda, but I¡¯m not stupid. I know I can¡¯t just make this go away by moping around by myself.¡±


    It was kind of funny, in a way. Learning that I could probably use a visit or two to a therapist only after landing myself in a magical fantasy world where I doubted they had anything like a robust mental health care system. Then again, I¡¯d been wrong before.


    ¡°It¡¯s just been¡­ a very long and confusing two days, Bart,¡± I said, reaching into the bucket again. This time, I reached for the end of my rod, guiding the hook towards me and slowly, clumsily, baiting it with the minnow. ¡°I¡¯d love it if I could just sit out here and fish and fish and fish until I feel better but I doubt that¡¯d work, so¡­¡± I stood up, making an actual effort to raise my arms and take aim, keeping my elbows straight like Bart had taught me. I wound up and let fly, and my hook landed more or less where I¡¯d wanted it to.


    ¡°So, I¡¯ll try talking about it,¡± I finished, easing myself back onto the ice chest. I still didn¡¯t feel like standing in place at the moment but, hey, progress.


    ¡°Not now, though, not to you,¡± I said over my shoulder, smirking. ¡°No offense, really, but it¡¯s¡­ embarrassing and complicated, and I¡¯d rather not have the walk back to the village be even more awkward. I made plans to visit Elle and Mel today, so, I¡¯ll try talking to them, if they¡¯re okay with me offloading like that.¡±


    Bart chuckled, giving me a tight lipped smile. ¡°None taken, I understand. I¡¯m just your crusty old fishing mentor.¡± I snorted and snickered, bringing a free hand to my mouth. ¡°I have a feeling those two will be more than okay with that, and I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll do you some good.¡±


    I nodded, and did my best to focus on only fishing for the rest of the morning. In the end, I only managed to pull in five yellow perch, one of which I had to throw back for being too small, before my troubled night¡¯s sleep and my half-finished breakfast began to catch up with me. Though I snacked on minnows, I eventually became too hungry, tired, and grumpy to focus any longer, and Bart and I decided to call the outing early.


    The silence that accompanied us back to the village was comfortable, rather than awkward. It gave me time to think, and also time to doubt. I had said I would try talking things out with Elle and Mel later, but where the hell was I even going to start? Trying to describe any one of my problems would require explaining even more, and I wound myself around in circles trying to decide which bombshell to drop first before eventually deciding to forget about it until I was there in front of them, and then just wing it.


    Back at the tavern, Felda once again bought my catch, paying for three of the fish and taking the fourth to cook up right away, gently admonishing me for not finishing my breakfast in the first place. She cooked the perch fast and simple, frying it in a pan and serving it with lemon and butter. As crummy as I was feeling, I couldn¡¯t stay mad while eating fish. Afterwards, just as expected, I was nearly dead on my feet. I mumbled my goodbyes to Bart and Felda and trudged back up to the bedroom, kicking off my sandals and flopping face first into Felda¡¯s bed.


    ¡ö


    When I awoke, I felt rested, refreshed and¡­ still pretty crummy. But at least I wouldn¡¯t be having trouble keeping my eyes open.


    Sitting up on the bed, I jolted slightly when I realized I wasn¡¯t alone. Felda was seated at her desk across the room, and looked over at the sound of my movement.


    ¡°Welcome back, Sam,¡± she said, smiling.


    ¡°Tha¡ªanks,¡± I yawned. Scooting off the bed, I slipped my sandals back on.


    ¡°Heading out now?¡± Felda asked, turning back to the book she had laid out in front of her.


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± I said, standing up and moving around the room, collecting my satchel and checking myself in the mirror. The image I presented was not the best, and I noticed with some displeasure that my hair already looked like it could stand to be brushed out again. That would be¡­ a problem for later.


    Before I left, I made one last stop. Crossing the room, I stepped up beside Felda, and she turned in her seat to smile at me. I didn¡¯t have to say what I wanted, and Felda didn¡¯t offer anything either, just looped one arm around my shoulders and squeezed, patting the back of my head.


    Then, I was off.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s see if I can find this place,¡± I said as I fished out the scrap of paper that Elle had written her directions on. I passed by the row of bakeries, lingering for only a moment to stare at one wooden sign that resembled a rabbit¡¯s head. I reached the corner where the public toilets were, then turned and headed ¡°up,¡± the direction I was choosing to think of as north, until I found, and crossed, the bustling main road that curved through the center of the village. I continued until I spotted the trees that marked the park where the three of us had taken a break the day before, and turned left.


    As promised, I found the residential district pretty easily. After passing another short stretch of shops and businesses, I found myself staring at a winding, curving street that was flanked on both sides by a series of separate square plots, enclosed by short, ivy covered stone walls, with a little arched gateway leading into each one from which hung a little wooden sign with a number on it. Peeking through the archways as I passed, I saw each plot had a spacious, open courtyard with a circular garden in the center, and four squat, rectangular, flat roofed buildings, two on either side of the arch and two side by side opposite it. Each home was similar but slightly different from the next, but all had a wide wrap around porch with an awning to provide shade. I could see people as I passed, mostly children, but some elderly folks as well, sitting on their porches or tending to the garden in the center. A few that noticed me passing stopped to wave.


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± I said, stopping and leaning against one of the outer walls to mentally catch my breath. This was not what I had been expecting. These homes looked nice, this whole area reminded me of when my family would go down to Florida to visit my mother¡¯s parents in their little condo communities, except here people actually seemed to get along with their neighbors. And it wasn¡¯t just limited to the people who shared a court, I noticed, as a woman who just left one of the plots passed me by with two children in tow, carrying a small basket in her arm which was giving off the unmistakable aroma of an apple pie, destined for another court a few streets ahead.


    It was so utterly¡­ heartwarming, and the sight of such a quaint and close-knit community should have been a good thing, but at the moment, it just made me feel worse, and I couldn¡¯t even put my finger on why.


    ¡°Uuuuugh¡­¡± I groaned, pressing my face into my hands. I just wanted to go home, I couldn¡¯t show up at Elle and Mel¡¯s cute little bungalow like this, all moody and grouchy. I hated to lose my nerve ten steps from my destination, but it was for the best. Standing up, I turned back towards the way I¡¯d come.


    And walked face first into Mel.


    ¡°Woah!¡± Mel said, stumbling back, one hand outstretched towards me, catching me by the arm before I could fall. ¡°Hey, Sam, I thought that was you.¡±


    ¡°H-hey,¡± I said, clutching my chest and trying to settle my nerves.


    ¡°You alright?¡± Mel smiled, and pulled me back upright, using her one hand to gently brush me off. Her other hand was cradling a tan burlap sack, containing what I assumed were groceries.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m¡­ fine,¡± I said, meeting her deep purple eyes for a moment before looking away.


    ¡°You¡¯re a little bit earlier than we expected, but I know Elle¡¯s going to be thrilled, c¡¯mon,¡± Mel said, motioning with her hand for me to follow.


    I sighed, ran a hand through my hair, and followed.


    Stepping through the archway with the little number three hanging over it, I saw that it was similar to the other two I¡¯d passed. Four wide, single-story houses surrounding an open communal space, this one filled to bursting with flower and berry bushes, and wooden benches like those in the park. The houses were numbered, one through four, and Mel led me to the first house to the right of the arch, house number four. A few of their neighbors were out and about, and I made a weak attempt to return their waves.


    Stepping onto the porch, I found more flowers in dozens of scattered pots, as well as a few sets of wooden chairs and tables, and even a little wind chime made from thin dried stalks of what looked like bamboo.


    Ugh, it¡¯s so¡­ perfect!


    ¡°C¡¯mon in,¡± Mel said, opening the door and ushering me inside. Just inside the doorway was a little sunken area before the house proper, with a squat little bench up against one wall, which Mel dropped down onto and began unlacing her boots. ¡°You can just tuck your sandals under the bench here.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay,¡± I said, settling down beside her and kicking off my sandals. I slid them under the bench then stepped up onto the wooden floor of the entry hallway while Mel finished.


    ¡°Mel? Is that you¡ªah!¡±


    Elle¡¯s head appeared around one of the open doorways, and she gasped when she spotted me, stepping out to greet me with a suffocating hug.


    ¡°Hey, Sammie, you¡¯re early!¡± Elle laughed, stepping back, both hands still on my shoulders. ¡°Thank you so much for coming, this is going to be so¡­ uh, what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, then winced as I noticed where her eyes were fixed. On my ears, which stubbornly refused to stand upright unless I focused on them. I scratched at one and forced them back into position, but I knew it wouldn¡¯t hold. There went my plan to just pretend everything was fine until I was ready to talk about it. ¡°Well, I¡­ I¡¯m not exactly feeling great today.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, what happened?!¡± Elle asked, suddenly overcome with concern, but Mel appeared at her side, patting one of her shoulders.


    ¡°Whatever it is, it can wait until Sam gets a chance to sit down at least, hmm?¡± Mel said, and Elle¡¯s cheeks flushed green. She nodded and released my shoulders, clasping her hands together in front of her instead.


    ¡°R-right, sorry Sammie,¡± Elle said, turning and nodding through the door opposite the one she¡¯d come through. ¡°The sitting room is just through there. I¡¯ll, uh, get us some snacks.¡±


    Elle disappeared back into what I assumed to be the kitchen, and Mel threw me a  nod and an amused smirk before following after her. I turned and headed through the other doorway, finding myself in a brightly lit living room, the sun pouring in through a large square skylight. There were three soft-looking armchairs against one wall and a couch against another, with a little knee high coffee table in front of it. One wall was taken up by a fireplace, complete with a mantle that held a row of books and a few odd trinkets. There were also even more potted plants, resting on shelves or, in the case of one especially large bush with long, trailing tendrils, hanging suspended from the ceiling by a large hook and a series of ropes.


    I took a deep breath through my nose, and the scent of an entire florist¡¯s shop greeted me.


    It was all so bright and cheery, exactly the kind of place I expected Elle to live, and it clashed terribly with my sour mood. Sighing, I dropped onto the couch, sliding halfway off of it and resting an arm across my face. I was aware of Elle and Mel talking across the hall in the kitchen, but with my ears flattened and pressed down against the couch cushions with the rest of me, I thankfully couldn¡¯t make any of it out.


    Eventually, I heard the pair approaching from the hall and quickly sat upright.


    ¡°Here we are,¡± Elle said, entering with a wide tray held between both hands. ¡°I, uh, I know I promised lunch, but, with what you said, I figured you might not have much of an appetite so¡ª¡±


    ¡°She made a platter,¡± Mel interrupted, placing a hand on Elle¡¯s back and urging her to actually finish entering the room, since she¡¯d stopped to give her explanation. Elle approached, setting the tray down, and I saw she had arranged quite an impressive looking spread. There were three different kinds of cheeses, all sliced into little cubes, a small pile of olives, a mixed assortment of berries and several thin slices of some kind of cured meat, what looked like half of an entire loaf of bread and, finally, sitting in the center of it all, a pile of pearlescent pink strips of¡­ something. Whatever it was, it was giving off a smoky, unmistakably fishy scent that had caught my attention immediately, so much so that the other snacks seemed more like afterthoughts.


    ¡°What is that?¡± I asked, pointing.


    Elle seemed almost embarrassed as she answered, fidgeting with her hands again. ¡°Smoked¡­ shellback salmon,¡± she said, like she was admitting a shameful secret, biting her lip and averting her eyes.


    ¡°That sounds¡­ expensive,¡± I said, furrowing my brow.


    Mel snorted, setting down her own tray, which held three glasses of the ubiquitous lemonade everyone in this village seemed to love. ¡°Oh, it was, shellback salmon is a Torgard specialty. I tried to tell her it was too much, but, y¡¯know, after she heard about¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shh!¡± Elle forcibly shushed Mel, pressing a hand to her mouth, then continuing, with her voice taking on that curious effect as she, apparently, switched to Elven. ¡°I told you, not now, not when she¡¯s so upset!¡±


    Mel rolled her eyes, reaching up and gently prying Elle¡¯s hand from her face.


    ¡°Alright, alright, but I still think you should get it over with sooner rather than later,¡± Mel said, in the same tone, then glanced my way and smiled casually. ¡°Sorry, she¡¯s just a little embarrassed about how much she spent.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ fine,¡± I said, shrugging. Maybe I should move that up the list of things I needed to tell people, but how do you even explain that you can just magically understand other languages?


    With their momentary disruption out of the way, Elle and Mel rounded the coffee table and settled onto the couch with me, one on either side like on the bench, when they¡¯d taken turns petting my head.


    Maybe you should beg them to do it again, huh?


    I suppressed a wince as the voice that wasn¡¯t quite mine but wasn¡¯t quite my father¡¯s berated me like it had the night before. I shook my head and clenched my jaw. I was not going to have another episode here.


    ¡°We should¡­ probably eat first,¡± I said, glancing to either side of me.


    ¡°Go right ahead,¡± Mel said, motioning at the tray with her hand. ¡°You¡¯re the guest here.¡±


    ¡°Right, right,¡± I said, leaning forward and, of course, reaching out to peel one of the thin strips of salmon from the pile. It was soft, and oily, and I couldn¡¯t help but glance at Elle as I lifted it towards my mouth. She was watching me intently, up until she realized I was watching her back, at which point she flushed green again and turned away.


    If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d suspect they were trying to poison me or something.


    Shrugging, I tossed the salmon into my mouth. As soon as it landed on my tongue, I felt my eyes go wide and my jaw go so slack it was almost difficult to chew, not that the tender, silky flesh needed much chewing. If I thought the smell was enticing, the flavor was unlike any of the other dishes I¡¯d sampled since coming to this world, even Felda¡¯s best. It was salty, smoky, and melted in my mouth, and even after I swallowed I could still taste it, lingering on my tongue like a delicious ghost. My tastebuds tingled like they¡¯d been electrified, and somehow, despite the objectively awful, terrible time I¡¯d been having since last night, I felt peace wash over me for a few fleeting moments.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ really good¡­¡± I finally managed to say, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth and squeezing my eyes shut. ¡°It¡¯s really fuckin¡¯ good, holy shit¡­¡±


    To my right, Mel snorted into one of her hands, patting my back with the other.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m glad you like it!¡± Elle gasped, sounding like she¡¯d been holding her breath while waiting for my verdict.


    ¡°I do,¡± I said, leaning back into the couch and staring up at the ceiling. ¡°I really do, but you two need to eat some too, because if you don¡¯t, I¡¯m about to eat all of it and then I¡¯ll feel like total shit.¡±


    Elle giggled, leaning forward to snag a strip for herself, Mel following suit. I heard them both let out appreciative groans as they savored the treat, then felt Elle nudge me with her elbow. I tilted my head and found Elle holding another strip of salmon between her fingers.


    ¡°Say ¡®ahh,¡¯ Sammie,¡± she said, smiling mischievously.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± I asked, arching an eyebrow. ¡°Did you forget I¡¯m not an actual cat?¡±


    ¡°O-of course not!¡± Elle said, frowning and pulling back slightly. ¡°I just¡­ thought it would be cute!¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I sighed. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t say no to Elle¡¯s hopeful expression, so, I leaned forward and opened my mouth, hoping that my cheeks weren¡¯t as red as they felt. Elle beamed and gently lowered the strip of smoked salmon in, and I snapped my mouth shut and let out a satisfied ¡°Mmmhm¡­¡± of my own.


    ¡°Hey, mind if I have a turn?¡± Mel asked while I was still savoring the aftertaste of another mouthful of heaven. I assumed she meant for Elle to do the same thing to her, but instead I found her holding another strip of salmon and giving me a sly grin.


    ¡°I have hands, you know!¡± I protested, even though I knew I didn¡¯t mean it. By now, I was sure that I was blushing furiously, but that didn¡¯t stop Mel from depositing the salmon into my mouth when I opened it.


    ¡°Okay!¡± I mumbled, pressing a hand to my mouth again while I chewed and swallowed. ¡°That¡¯s the last one, seriously, you¡¯re both¡­ ridiculous!¡±


    Elle and Mel burst out laughing at that, and, I was surprised to find that I could laugh along with them, easily. I had been waiting, dreading, for the bad mood I¡¯d arrived with to come crashing back, but it felt like it was being held at bay.


    Over the course of the next half hour or so, me and Elle and Mel worked our way through the tray, sampling everything in turns, and I found as many ways as I could to mix and match the various fruits, meats, and cheeses with strips of salmon and bits torn from the loaf of bread. There was little conversation, nothing lengthy or in depth, just comfortable quiet and the occasional comment about how good the snacks were. I was sorry when we finally polished the platter clean, sinking into the back of the couch again and letting out a long, satisfied sigh.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, rolling my head to the side and giving Elle a small smile. ¡°I really needed this, I think.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± Elle said cheerfully, looking as satisfied as I felt. ¡°And I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling better! A-and you¡¯re welcome to stop by again anytime you want!¡±


    Ah, sure enough. My ears no longer felt like they were in danger of drooping. Coming here really had done the trick, and I hadn¡¯t even had to talk about what happened yet. I wasn¡¯t even sure I wanted to now, with how much better I was feeling. Did I really want to bring everyone down again, myself most of all? I still didn¡¯t even know what the heck to tell them!


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    Mel¡¯s voice pulled me back out of my thoughts and I turned to face her. She nudged me with her shoulder. ¡°Got a lot on your mind still, huh?¡±


    ¡°You have no idea,¡± I said, sighing and bringing a hand to my forehead.


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± Mel said, then chuckled lightly. ¡°I mean that, actually. Elle and I didn¡¯t just invite you over for lunch and pleasantries. I know there¡¯s gona be some stuff you can¡¯t, or won¡¯t, or don¡¯t want to talk about, but anything you do feel comfortable telling us, we¡¯ll listen to.¡± Her smile grew a little wider, the half of it I could see past her long dark hair anyway. ¡°That¡¯s what friends are for, right?¡±


    On my opposite side, I felt Elle shift in her seat, and when I looked I found her pressing a hand against her face. I wasn¡¯t sure what exactly that was about, but it seemed like she¡¯d told Mel about what I¡¯d said last night. I didn¡¯t blame her, it was a pretty cheesy line. And to think I thought I could get away with calling Duke sappy when I was going around saying stuff like that.


    Still, despite all her smirking, Mel sounded pretty serious, and of the two she was the one I trusted the most to be serious.


    ¡°I¡­ appreciate you saying that, really,¡± I said, finally digging myself out of the couch cushions and sitting forward. ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t believe you, it¡¯s just that it¡¯s a lot, what I¡¯m dealing with. It¡¯s not just one thing, but several, and they¡¯re all so confusing and interconnected and I¡¯m worried you won¡¯t even believe half of it if I tell you the whole story, not to mention¡­¡± I stalled, realizing I was already picking up steam without even intending to. If I was going to do this, I couldn¡¯t be sandwiched between them. Pushing myself to my feet, I rounded the coffee table and stood before them, clearing my throat and continuing. ¡°Not to mention, when you learn the truth, you¡­ might not want to be my friend anymore. I wouldn¡¯t blame you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, gods¡­¡± I heard Elle mutter in elvish, her face stricken with worry while Mel¡¯s remained neutral.


    ¡°I think you should give us, and yourself, a little more credit,¡± Mel said, leaning across the gap that I¡¯d left and placing one of her hands on top of Elle¡¯s. ¡°We¡¯ve only heard rumors about how bad things have gotten in high society, of course, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not from high society,¡± I blurted out, causing Mel to stop in her tracks and look at me curiously. ¡°Everyone¡¯s been saying that since I got here, and I¡¯ve just been going along with it because it¡¯s easier than¡­ than explaining the actual truth.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Elle said, blinking, seeming taken aback. ¡°But I thought¡­ well, where are you from then?¡±


    I sighed, crossing my arms and starting to pace in front of the table. The more I thought about it, there really was no good way to talk about any of my problems without first going to the very tip top and telling them who and what I really was. Mel seemed confident that she and Elle could handle anything I threw at them, and I guessed it was time to put that to the test.


    ¡°What would you say if I told you I was¡­ not from this world at all?¡±


    I was studying both of their faces carefully as I spoke, but neither of them gave me the reaction I''d been expecting. Instead of abject shock, they both exchanged simple, confused glances with each other.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Are you¡­ trying to say you''re an Outsider?¡± Mel asked, far too calmly for what should be a world-shattering revelation.


    I froze in the middle of my pacing, looking from Mel to Elle and back again before asking, ¡°A what?¡±


    ¡°An Outsider,¡± Mel repeated, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°You have a word for it?¡± I spat out, staring intensely, suddenly feeling like I was the most confused one in the room. ¡°You mean this is a thing? This has happened before? To other people?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ maybe?¡± Elle said timidly, holding a palm out. ¡°It''s not something you''ll just hear people talking about every day, but if you go digging deep enough through the histories, you''ll find a lot of influential figures who either made the claim themselves, or their friends did, after they died.¡±


    I was stunned. I felt like the room was spinning around me, and it was all I could do to stumble backwards into one of the softly padded armchairs, holding my head in my hands.


    I''d been agonizing over how exactly I would go about trying to explain my situation to anyone, and whether or not anyone would believe me, and here I was instead learning that I''d become living proof of some kind of recurring ancient myth of this world. The latest in a long line of people who, presumably, fell ass first into this fantasy world and¡­


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, jerking my head upright suddenly. ¡°You said ¡®after they died?¡¯ Aren''t there any stories about these people, these ¡®Outsiders¡¯ finding a way back?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don''t know?¡± Elle said, frowning and fidgeting on her end of the couch, visibly squeezing the hand that Mel had offered her like a stress ball. ¡°So, are you¡­ is that really what you''re saying happened to you? You''re an Outsider?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I am¡­¡± I said, sighing and slumping back into the chair, massaging my forehead. ¡°I came from a planet called Earth, and I can¡¯t even begin to explain all the ways it''s different from this place. There¡¯s no magic, for one, and there¡¯s no elves or dwarves or weird cat people, just humans. I can¡¯t really prove any of this of course, so, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if you don¡¯t believe¡ª¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Mel said, straight away, and looked at her, incredulous, but she just shrugged and glanced over at Elle. ¡°I can¡¯t speak for Elle, I haven''t read as much as she has, but the way I see it, that would be such a wildly stupid thing to try and lie about, and I can¡¯t imagine what you¡¯d stand to gain from it. Plus, it would explain why you¡¯re so, y¡¯know¡­ strange, no offense. A lot of it I just wrote off as you being a sheltered catkin stepping out of high society for the first time, but you didn¡¯t even know what elves were when you met me and Elle. Even if you were born up there and never left, there¡¯s no way that¡¯s possible.¡±


    ¡°I-I-I believe you too!¡± Elle piped up, leaning forward in her seat. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ really surprised, that is not at all like what I was expecting you to say.¡±


    ¡°What were you expecting me to say?¡± I asked, curious and glad for the distraction. ¡°It¡¯s actually been driving me a little crazy, wondering what you and everybody else must think my actual circumstances are while not being able to say anything.¡±


    ¡°O-oh, well, nothing in particular, really¡­¡± Elle stammered, shrinking back slightly, but Mel grinned, leaning over and throwing an arm around her shoulder.


    ¡°She thought you were going to say you killed your adopted noble family and fled down here to go into hiding,¡± Mel said, and Elle¡¯s cheeks first went completely pale, then flushed so green they nearly matched her hair.


    ¡°S-shut up! I never said that!¡± Elle protested, swatting at Mel¡¯s shoulder while I just stared and blinked at the two of them.


    ¡°You what?¡± I asked, dumbfounded. This was supposed to be a serious conversation, but it had gone so far off the rails already.


    Elle groaned, briefly dropping her face into her hands, mumbling through them.


    ¡°Well, I mean¡­ you seemed so sad and broody all the time, and then yesterday, when I asked if your family would be able to find you if you used your real name, and the way you said ¡®nobody¡¯s looking for me¡­¡¯¡± Elle explained, apparently unable to look me in the eye as she did so. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d killed all of them, exactly, but I was pretty sure you did something to ensure you wouldn¡¯t be followed, but now this, I¡­¡±


    She trailed off, and I took a moment to just unpack all that. For some reason, Mel seemed unable to stop grinning, but I¡¯d given up on understanding what made her tick.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°That¡¯s so¡­ But, I¡¯m like, five foot nothing, how would I even¡­ Wait a minute! You thought I was maybe a murderer, and you still invited me to your home?¡±


    Mel broke into a fit of muffled giggles at that while Elle just tried to sink deeper into the couch. I waited for either of them to provide me with an actual answer, but Mel just shook her head.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t look at me, this was her plan,¡± Mel said, and I furrowed my brow.


    Plan? What plan? Did Elle have some kind of ulterior motives for inviting me over? Well, whatever her plan had been, I¡¯d clearly thrown it well off track now, so that made two of us. She didn¡¯t seem willing to clarify, so I just sighed and stood back up.


    That was one major issue out in the open, but I was just getting started.


    ¡°Well, fine, you took that better than expected, but like I said, there¡¯s more. I told you there¡¯s only humans back where I came from, and, up until I woke up here two¡­ no, three days ago now, I was a human.¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah, I did kinda figure that,¡± Mel said, smirking. Elle had also managed to uncurl from her ball of shame and was looking at me curiously, bringing a finger to her lips and tapping them.


    ¡°So, you were¡­ changed into a catkin when you arrived?¡± Elle asked, staring at me intently.


    ¡°Yup,¡± I said, reaching up and running a hand through my hair. ¡°Not just that, I look¡­ way different than I used to. My hair was brown, and I was a lot taller before I came here, like, almost as tall as Bart.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Mel said, tilting her head as she eyed me. ¡°A world where there¡¯s only humans I can believe, but I can¡¯t even imagine you as tall.¡±


    I chose to ignore that.


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± Elle muttered thoughtfully. ¡°There was¡­ something I remember reading about that. A personal account from a priest of The Goddess of Reap and Sow, claiming to have spoken to an Outsider. He was a birdkin, a famous explorer who tracked down a ton of previously unencountered islands. He said something like¡­ in his old life, he was always sickly growing up, and then as an adult he was stuck indoors for most of his life, so coming here and suddenly being free, being able to fly anywhere he wanted, was like a dream come true for him. The passage called it a ¡®blessing from the gods,¡¯ but it didn¡¯t say if those were his words or the priests¡¯.¡±


    I stared back at Elle for a long while after she finished, feeling like the floor might drop out from under me at any moment. I replayed her words over and over again in my mind, trying to process them, feeling my cheeks start to grow hot and my hands start to clench at my sides.


    ¡°What?!¡± I exploded, taking a step forward while Elle and Mel both reeled backwards. ¡°A blessing?! Are your gods stupid or something? In what way is this a dream come true for me?¡± I was raving now, pacing rapidly back and forth and gesticulating angrily. ¡°Why would I wish for this?! Why would I wish to be unable to reach high shelves, why would I wish to be some weird little cat person that nobody takes seriously, why would I wish to be a g¡ª... a g¡ª¡±


    I broke off, my angry rant crashing to a halt like a train slamming on its brakes too fast and going tumbling off the tracks. Right, I still had to tell them the worst of it. Turning so my back was to the couch, I crossed my arms and huffed.


    ¡°Right, so¡­ that¡¯s the last thing you need to know,¡± I said, my eyes drifting as I did. Most of the far wall was taken up by a wide rectangular window with a little ledge beneath it, with more potted flowers resting on it. Outside the window, I caught glimpses of Elle and Mel¡¯s neighbors going about their days.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t just a human before I came here,¡± I said, determined to just get it out as fast as I could. ¡°I was a human guy.¡±


    As the words left my mouth, I crossed my arms tighter, my shoulders hunching up while I waited for their reactions. I couldn¡¯t see them but I imagined they shared expressions of shock and horror. Any second I expected one of both of them to begin shouting questions; what was wrong with me, why hadn¡¯t I said anything sooner, or maybe just demand I leave their home and never come back.


    ¡°And?¡±


    Mel¡¯s voice was as calm as ever. Insultingly calm. I turned, peering over my shoulder, finding neither of them looking particularly surprised or disturbed. I blinked.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± Mel asked, raising a single eyebrow and starting to smirk. ¡°By the bough, Sam, I thought you were about to tell us you actually had killed someone.¡±


    Even Elle seemed remarkably composed after spending so much of the previous discussion in various states of distress. She was just looking at me with a searching look in her eyes.


    ¡°Is that it?¡± I repeated, turning back around to face the couch. ¡°Aren¡¯t you¡­ why aren¡¯t you upset? Did you hear what I said? I¡¯m a¡­ a¡­ a boy!¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    Mel posed the question calmly.  Three simple words, one after the other, and yet they pierced through my chest like a bullet.


    ¡°W-what?¡± I sputtered, my brow furrowed angrily. ¡°O-of course I am, why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡±


    ¡°Just¡­ a hunch,¡± Mel said, shrugging, then pushing herself up off of the couch. ¡°I could be wrong, I don¡¯t know anything about this ¡®Earth¡¯ place, but I¡¯m guessing ¡®Samantha¡¯ is a name that comes from there, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I said warily, watching as Mel stepped out from around the coffee table. She didn¡¯t approach me, just wandered to the other end of the room, folding her arms in front of her.


    ¡°Is it your¡­ ¡®real¡¯ name? Is that what you were called before you came here?¡±


    Another question that hit me like a physical blow.


    ¡°No¡­¡± I said, biting my lip. ¡°No, Samantha is¡­ a girl¡¯s name¡­ But! I only said it was mine because Felda asked me so suddenly, and I couldn¡¯t tell her my real name because it¡­ it¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a boy¡¯s name?¡± Mel finished, looking over her shoulder at me. She wasn¡¯t smirking anymore, but rather just smiling. Softly, compassionately. I was feeling dizzy all over again. I may have nodded, or just imagined doing it.


    ¡°Well, now that me and Elle know, do you want to tell us?¡± Mel continued turning, and now she was approaching. ¡°Do you want us to call you that name instead, and say ¡®he¡¯ instead of ¡®she¡¯ when we talk about you?¡±


    I opened my mouth, but only air came out. My eyes were as wide as saucers as I stared up at Mel, and she stared back, and even though I knew she was not actually hundreds of years old, I felt like her single visible eye held a depth of wisdom that I couldn¡¯t even begin to comprehend at that moment.


    The thought of her and Elle doing either of those things made my blood curdle like milk.


    ¡°No¡­¡± I answered belatedly, whispering as though I didn¡¯t want the universe to hear it. It was a revelation, one that was hitting me so strongly and suddenly that I couldn¡¯t do anything to stop it. Mel¡¯s face began to blur in my vision as the tears I¡¯d avoided shedding for as long as I could began to flood my eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t want that¡­ why don¡¯t I want that?¡±


    Mel took another step closer and I reached out. I couldn¡¯t quite reach her shoulders so I grabbed onto her upper arms, using them to steady myself. I couldn¡¯t meet her eyes because I could barely see out of mine. Mel didn¡¯t have an answer for me, but I think she just recognized I was well past the point where it would do me any good. I felt hands on my shoulders now, and let myself be led, blindly, until I found myself back on the couch, with Elle to one side of me and Mel dropping into place on the other.


    ¡°Why?¡± I repeated, holding my head in my hands while two sets of arms appeared around me. ¡°Why, why, why¡­ what is wrong with me?!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with you, Sam,¡± Mel said, insistently, and that was the straw that broke the camel''s back.


    I dissolved into a sobbing mess, at first crying into my hands, until Elle gently pressed one of the throw pillows from the couch into my side. I latched onto it and buried my face as deeply into it as I could, and proceeded to let out much more than two days¡¯ worth of built up emotions.


    ¡°Shhh¡­¡± Mel soothed in my ear, one of her hands stroking my head while one of Elle¡¯s circled my back. ¡°You''re fine, you''re here with us, just get it all out¡­¡±


    I was going to do exactly that, whether I wanted to or not.


    Time passed, what could have been minutes, or hours, until I could finally take in a breath without immediately letting it back out as a shuddering sob. I felt dizzy, and sick, and was immensely grateful for Elle¡¯s accidental foresight of only serving a light snack instead of a full meal.


    I lifted my face out of the pillow, cringing and immediately wiping my face on a cleaner section before taking stock of my surroundings. The sun was still shining outside, so it couldn''t have been too long. I had been firmly sandwiched between Elle and Mel, both of their arms wrapped around me and each other as well. Elle had her head resting on my shoulder, while Mel¡¯s was leaning softly against my own head, so she was the first to notice my return to coherence.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Mel whispered gingerly. ¡°Welcome back.¡±


    Opposite her, Elle jerked upright like she''d been dozing, her arms suddenly squeezing me tighter.


    ¡°S-Sammie!¡± she gasped loudly, before catching herself, speaking quietly but no less frantically. I couldn¡¯t help but notice the wetness streaked down her cheeks as well. ¡°Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should we get Felda?¡±


    ¡°Water,¡± I said hoarsely, feeling awash with d¨¦j¨¤ vu. At this rate, I was going to end up crying myself into a shriveled up raisin.


    ¡°Right here,¡± Mel said, leaning just enough to reach the coffee table, grabbing one of the empty glasses from earlier. I thought she was about to get up to go fill it, but instead she just held it out to Elle.


    ¡°O-oh, right,¡± Elle said, sniffling once and appearing to collect herself, before reaching out and cupping her palms around the top and bottom of the glass. ¡°S-s-s¡­¡± Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, flushing slightly. ¡°Sorry, ahem. Summon Water.¡±


    I watched, my overtaxed emotions still managing to be fascinated, as the glass began to fill itself from the bottom up with clear water, stopping as soon as Elle removed her hands. I reached up, accepting the glass from Mel with both hands, and brought it to my parched lips. The water was cool, and tasted ridiculously clean, and even left my tongue tingling as though it were carbonated or something. I drank the whole glass in one go, then slumped backwards with a satisfied groan.


    ¡°Magic is¡­ so cool¡­¡± I muttered. On either side of me, Elle and Mel both made a sound halfway between a choke and a laugh, with Mel surprisingly being the first one to burst into all out giggling and snickering. I, of course, couldn¡¯t help but start to chuckle at that, and soon I and Elle were laughing along with her, and I finally began to feel like a person again.


    After our collective fit was over, I bit my lip and turned my head to look up at Mel.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m feeling okay now, you can let go of me if you want,¡± I said, wiggling my shoulders slightly. I had pulled my legs up onto the couch at some point, and was now just being held in my slightly scrunched position, which probably wouldn¡¯t have been as comfortable if I wasn¡¯t quite so short. I¡­ wasn¡¯t sure yet what to make of that, exactly.


    ¡°We know,¡± Mel said, smirking back at me, then tilting her head. ¡°Do you want us to?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I hadn¡¯t expected the ball to be put right back into my court. I glanced over at Elle to see if she was just as willing to stay put as Mel seemed to be, but she had turned her head entirely away and was staring across the room at the fireplace.


    ¡°I¡­ guess not?¡± I said hesitantly, turning back to Mel. ¡°Is that okay?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s perfectly fine,¡± Mel said, nodding and moving one of her arms so she could plant her hand on the back of my head. I shivered and sat up slightly, but quickly relaxed once more and began to purr, deeply and loudly, for the first time I could recall since the incident with the brush.


    I was still mentally restacking the building blocks of my whole outlook and perspective, but the recent¡­ conclusion I¡¯d been helpfully led to by Mel shed some new light on, well, a lot of things, but especially why I had been affected so hard by something so simple and innocuous.


    ¡°Sooo¡­¡± I said, biting my lip nervously. Mel slowed, but didn¡¯t stop, her scratching at my scalp, and Elle seemed able to look my way again.


    ¡°So?¡± Mel asked, faintly amused.


    ¡°So¡­ I¡¯m a girl, huh?¡±


    There, I said it out loud. That way I couldn¡¯t take it back.


    Mel snorted again and nodded. ¡°Seems that way.¡±


    ¡°Did you¡­ know?¡± I asked. It seemed ridiculous, but something about the questions Mel had asked me, or the way she¡¯d asked them, made it seem like she knew what she was doing ahead of time.


    ¡°About you? Nope, not a clue, until you said you used to be a boy.¡±


    Used to be.


    I shivered at that, but not out of discomfort.


    ¡°Then¡­ how did you know exactly what to ask?¡± I asked, hesitating a moment, then leaned my head against one of Mel¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m glad you did it, but, it really seems like you knew what would happen.¡±


    ¡°Psh.¡± Mel scoffed, glancing away with a small smile. ¡°Trust me, I had no clue what was going to happen there, I didn¡¯t expect them to hit you so hard. I am really sorry for that, by the way, but it kinda seems like you should¡¯ve been asked those questions a lot sooner.¡± She began to frown a little as she explained. ¡°As for how I knew what to ask, well, like I said, I don¡¯t know a lot about humans, let alone humans from another world, but for elves, we get asked fairly often while we¡¯re growing up if we¡¯re comfortable with what we¡¯re called, or if we want to switch to something else.¡±


    I stared up at Mel as she finished, once again feeling my jaw go slack.


    ¡°R-really?¡± I stammered out. ¡°¡®Switch?¡¯ So when you¡¯re young you can just¡­ decide to stop being a boy, just like that, whenever you want?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Mel asked, seemingly confused by my confusion. ¡°S¡¯what I did. And it¡¯s not just when we¡¯re young, it can happen anytime.¡±


    I, thankfully, managed to keep from dropping my jaw a third time, but I did stare, wide eyed at Mel, who just smirked in return.


    ¡°Y-you mean¡­ you w-were¡­ you are¡­ like me?¡± I finally managed to piece together my sentence from stops and starts, and Mel, smiling wider, nodded. And here I thought I was done getting my mind blown for the day. ¡°I-is that an elf thing?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Mel asked with a laugh. ¡°No, of course not. Everyone changes over time, sometimes that means changing the way you wear your hair or the kinds of clothes you wear, and sometimes that means changing what people call you. Is it not that simple on Earth?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡± I said. ¡°Not at all. I mean, I¡¯ve heard of people on Earth who¡­ wait a minute¡­¡±


    I trailed off, having begun to wrack my brain for anything I¡¯d ever heard about people who wanted to change genders, when another memory, more recent and seemingly completely innocent, was shoved loose from my brain like a vase being knocked off a shelf.


    Are you sure you don¡¯t want to come to one of the meetings with me sometime? Morgan had asked. After that¡­ incident with Mandy, she had started attending the school¡¯s regular LGBT support group meetings.


    No? Why would I? I had asked in return.


    I¡­ just think you might find it interesting? had been Morgan¡¯s answer at the time. I had been pretty sure you actually needed to fit the description to go to the meetings, and I¡­


    ¡°Oh my goooood¡­¡± I groaned into my hands, almost feeling like I might start crying all over again. ¡°She knew! Oh, I am such a dumbass!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Mel asked, startled by my sudden outburst. ¡°Who? Knew what?¡±


    ¡°My¡­ my friend from Earth, Morgan!¡± I said, sighing and slumping forward over my knees. ¡°I¡­ I think she knew, but she must not have known how to bring it up to me, uuugh¡­ she always was the smarter one between the two of us. Was always looking out for me, too, I can¡¯t believe it¡­¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Mel said as I trailed off, gently patting my head. ¡°She sounds nice.¡±


    ¡°She was,¡± I said, and sighed, unconsciously pulling in tighter to the both of them. ¡°Well, still is, it''s not like she''s dead, but, y''know.¡± I let out a sudden, slightly bitter chuckle as something else occurred to me. ¡°I''ve¡­ never told anyone this, but I actually used to have a crush on her, when we were younger.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Mel asked, seeming a little too amused. Her eyes flicked over my head to Elle, who seemed like she had pulled as far away as she could without actually leaving our little group huddle, and was pointedly avoiding Mel¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± I said, ignoring¡­ whatever was going on there. ¡°She was so nice, and really smart, and she didn''t really have many friends either so we kinda gravitated towards each other. We were friends for most of our childhood, and I almost told her I liked her so many times, but it never felt right, and then¡­ and then she confided in me that she liked girls. She hadn''t even told her parents, just me.¡± I paused to take a breath, and make sure I wasn''t about to stay crying again. ¡°Anyway, after that I just¡­ well, I tried to move on, but I think there was always still a little part of me that held on, even if I knew I never had a shot¡­¡± I half-laughed, half-scoffed, and let my head rest against Elle. ¡°Joke''s on me, I guess.¡±


    An awkward silence descended after that, and I began to feel a bit bad for bringing the mood down again, when Mel once again leaned slightly over my head and began to whisper to Elle.


    ¡°Elle, come on, what¡¯re you waiting for?¡± Mel asked, and I sucked in my breath. Right, there was one major thing I still needed to tell them.


    ¡°Are you crazy?!¡± Elle hissed back. ¡°I can''t do it after all that! She''ll think I''m a creep!¡±


    ¡°Weeell, if you don''t, I will,¡± Mel said with an audible smirk.


    ¡°Um!¡± I cut in, clearing my throat. ¡°So, there''s one more thing I think I should tell you, and I''m really sorry for not bringing it up sooner, but I¡­ can still understand you when you''re speaking Elven.¡±


    Both Elle and Mel stared down at me, Mel looking simply surprised, while Elle suddenly looked mortified, and even fully untangled herself from me and Mel, scooting to the other end of the couch.


    ¡°Oh, rot take me!¡± Elle¡­ swore? I think that''s what that was meant to be.


    ¡°You can speak Elven?¡± Mel asked.


    ¡°Uh, no, I¡­ is she okay?¡± I asked Mel, pointing to Elle, who looked like she was trying to find a way to squeeze between the gaps in the couch cushions.


    ¡°She just needs a minute,¡± Mel said. I wasn¡¯t so sure about that, but she knew Elle better than I did.


    ¡°Okay, well, no, I can¡¯t speak Elven,¡± I said, looking up at the ceiling and furrowing my brow. ¡°I don¡¯t really know how it works, but whenever someone speaks another language around me, my brain just automatically translates it to English.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s English?¡± Mel asked. In English.


    I blinked.


    ¡°The¡­ language we¡¯re speaking right now?¡± I said, suddenly unsure.


    ¡°No it isn¡¯t,¡± Mel said, tilting her head. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of that language, we¡¯re speaking Common. Technically, Western Trade Common, but some people call it Torgardian Common too.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± I said. Did that mean that I was never hearing what anyone was actually saying, but just a magical translation?


    ¡°Anyway, that clinches it then, you are an Outsider,¡± Mel said, bringing me back on track.


    ¡°Uh, huh? How?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Because that is a blessing,¡± Mel said, reaching down and tapping one finger against my forehead. ¡°The ability to speak and be understood by all, or something like that. You hear about it cropping up in a lot of old stories, like, ancient history-old, of people being granted that power by certain gods so they could spread their word anywhere they went, but it hasn¡¯t happened in a loooong time.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡­ I see,¡± I said, rubbing my forehead where she had tapped it. I hadn¡¯t really thought much about the existence of religion in this world. I¡¯d heard several people swear on them or to them, but if Elle and Mel were right, one or more of them could actually be responsible for my ending up here. If that were true, could I just¡­ pray for one of them to send me home?


    ¡°Anyway, back to the task at hand,¡± Mel said, before I could fall down a philosophical rabbit hole, motioning across the couch. ¡°As you might have heard, Elle has something she needs to tell you. It¡¯s actually the reason she invited you over in the first place.¡±


    Over in her corner of the couch, Elle finally sat up straight with a gasp.


    ¡°Melody Moonglow, not another word!¡± Elle said, jumping to her feet and jabbing a finger at Mel.


    Mel laughed and held her hands up. ¡°Alright, alright, I promised you could go first.¡±


    Mel proceeded to scoot several paces back, leaving me in the center of the couch and, for the first time in what felt like a while, not physically in contact with either of them. I had grown used to it surprisingly fast.


    I had noticed that there did seem to be something up with Elle, she¡¯d been really quiet since I¡¯d come out of my fit, other than casting the spell for the water she hadn¡¯t said basically anything. I couldn¡¯t imagine what this could be about, it didn¡¯t seem like a bad thing but for some reason it had Elle incredibly nervous and agitated.


    Elle, having sufficiently admonished Mel, dropped her arm and let out a whistling sigh. ¡°Hoo, okay¡­ okay Elle, you can do this¡­¡± she muttered to herself, running her hands through her green hair and scrubbing at her cheeks with her palms before suddenly rounding on me, making me jump. ¡°S-Sam, there¡¯s¡­ something I want to tell you.¡±


    ¡°I gathered,¡± I said, trying to smile to ease some of Elle¡¯s nerves.


    ¡°Right, and, well, I was going to wait a little longer, because I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d be right to rush you into anything when you¡¯ve only been down here for two days, but now you say you¡¯ve only been here for two days, and you¡¯re also from an entirely different world so I don¡¯t even know if I should do this anymore but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Elle,¡± Mel said, rising to her feet and moving to Elle¡¯s side, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her into an embrace. Elle, who had only begun to grow more nervous as the pace of her rambling picked up, cut herself off and returned the gesture, squeezing Mel just as tightly as she¡¯d been squeezing me a few minutes ago. They remained that way for a short while, parting slightly so Elle could press her forehead to Mel¡¯s, her eyes closed.


    ¡°You got this,¡± Mel whispered, and delivered a quick peck to Elle¡¯s lips. If there had been any last, lingering doubt in my mind that the two of them were dating, that obliterated it in an instant. It didn¡¯t make the last several minutes of mutual snuggling any less confusing though.


    Breaking apart, Mel took a step back and Elle turned back to me, her cheeks flushed green but her expression determined.


    ¡°Sam,¡± Elle said, meeting my gaze while her hands fidgeted in front of her. ¡°I think¡­ that I have become mildly¡­ e-enamored with you¡­¡± She squeezed her eyes shut as she finally managed to force the words out, and I could hear her suck in her breath and hold it.


    I blinked.


    ¡°Become what?¡± I asked. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    Behind Elle, I could see Mel double over, pressing her fist against her mouth to stifle her laughter. Elle opened her eyes again and looked at me, furrowing her brow.


    ¡°Ah, uh¡­ you know, like¡­ i-i-infatuated?¡±


    Okay that sounded a little more familiar, but there was no way that¡¯s what she meant to say¡­ my brain must be getting the translation wrong.


    ¡°By the bough, Elle, what are you gona say next, that you wish to court her?¡± Mel said, having recovered from her almost-laughing fit. She stepped back up to Elle, who had gone as green as¡­ well, a lime, and looked me dead in the eye. ¡°She¡¯s trying to say she likes you.¡±


    Oh. Well. There¡¯s no getting that translation wrong. But just because the words were correct didn¡¯t mean they actually made sense.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, frowning and looking back and forth between the two of them. Elle, predictably, pressed her hands to her face and groaned.


    ¡°I tooooold you it wasn¡¯t a good time!¡± Elle¡¯s voice was muffled but perfectly understandable.


    ¡°Hey, c¡¯mon, she¡¯s only said one word,¡± Mel said, throwing one arm around Elle¡¯s shoulder and squeezing her gently, then looking at me with a strained smile. ¡°Sorry, this isn¡¯t at all how either of us wanted this to go either, if you really do need more time to sort yourself out we¡¯d totally understand.¡±


    None of what they were saying was helping stop my brain from short circuiting.


    ¡°Okay, wait, stop!¡± I said, holding up both hands and waving them. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m just really fuckin¡¯ confused.¡± I turned my head, staring Elle down as best I could from my seat on the couch. ¡°You really do mean that you like me? Like, like-like me?¡±


    Elle bit her lip for a moment before nodding sheepishly. I swiveled my head to look at Mel, pointing back and forth between them


    ¡°But¡­ aren¡¯t you two already together?¡± I asked. ¡°I mean I just saw you kiss!¡±


    Now it was Elle and Mel¡¯s turns to look confused. They exchanged glances with one another, and Mel raised her eyebrow at me. ¡°Yeah? Me and Elle are partners, what does that have to do with it?¡±


    ¡°So she¡­ she just¡­ she said she¡¯s got a crush on me!¡± I said, growing slightly frantic. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be jealous or something?¡±


    Mel continued to stare at me, eyebrow raised, for several seconds, before answering.


    ¡°...No? Why would I be?¡± Mel said, sounding one hundred percent serious. ¡°And it¡¯s not like it¡¯s just her, I like you too, she just wanted to be the one to tell you first.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± I shouted, then, remembering that Elle and Mel had neighbors, I grabbed a fresh pillow from the couch and stuffed my face into it, letting out a muffled scream of frustrated confusion.


    When I pulled my face back out, Elle and Mel were still looking just as baffled as I felt. I took several deep breaths to try and calm myself, and tried to take things from the top.


    ¡°So¡­ you both like me?¡± I asked plainly. They both nodded. ¡°Then, do you both want to¡­ date me?¡±


    Again, they both nodded, though Elle did so with significantly more blushing and fidgeting.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me you both want to cheat on each other¡­ with me?¡±


    ¡°Cheat?¡± Mel asked, blinking. ¡°Like at gambling?¡±


    Ugh. So much for universal translation!


    ¡°No, not like that, it means, like, when two people are in a relationship, or they¡¯re married, and one of them goes and¡­ gets with someone else without telling their partner,¡± I said, not sure if I felt more like I was having a conversation with children or aliens.


    ¡°Oh, well, yeah, that would be wrong,¡± Elle said, frowning. ¡°But that would mean a lot of sneaking around and lying, I don¡¯t know who would go to that much trouble when they could just say something? Besides, that¡¯s not what me and Mel are doing at all, right?¡±


    I felt one of my eyes twitch. Before my head could explode, Mel snapped her fingers.


    ¡°Oh!¡± she said, smacking a hand against her forehead. ¡°Okay, no, I see what¡¯s happening here. I already forgot you¡¯re literally not from this world, so you wouldn¡¯t know how elven relationships work.¡±


    ¡°How do they work then?¡± I asked, still not quite convinced this wasn¡¯t going to turn out to be the world''s worst and most elaborate prank.


    ¡°Well, for starters, they¡¯re not limited to just two people, maximum,¡± Mel said, shrugging. ¡°That¡¯s more of a human thing, because it only takes two of them pairing up to¡­ well, you know. Elves work differently, especially where relationships and families are concerned. A relationship between elves can be as few as three or four people or as many as a dozen, or even more.¡±


    ¡°And¡­ all of them¡­ dating each other?¡± I asked, starting to piece together a very¡­ interesting picture of the elves of this world.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Mel said, smiling. ¡°So, are you starting to get it?¡±


    Unfortunately, I was. Before, confusion had fully blocked out any other emotion from getting through, but now that I was starting to understand that both Elle and Mel had just confessed to me, in their own roundabout ways, I felt my cheeks begin to heat up. Apparently, Elle and Mel could both see that I was getting it as well, because Mel¡¯s smile grew, and Elle finally stopped looking like she wanted to go run and hide.


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± I said, swallowing. ¡°Yeah, I¡­ I still have a lot of questions, obviously, but I understand what you meant now. You¡¯re saying you want me to¡­ turn your duo into a trio?¡±


    ¡°Pfhah!¡± Mel burst out laughing at that, while Elle much more politely held a hand to her mouth and giggled into it. Exasperated, I crossed my arms and waited for them to get ahold of themselves, and once they did, Mel beamed at me and nodded.


    ¡°Sure, that¡¯s one way to put it,¡± Mel said. ¡°In elven terms, what we¡¯re doing is called¡­ oh, I don¡¯t even have to try and translate it.¡± Mel laughed and grinned. ¡°This is already working out, see? Anyway, it¡¯s extending a branch. It means we¡¯re inviting you to join our orchard, though it isn¡¯t much of one with only two of us.¡±


    ¡°But only if you want to!¡± Elle said, holding a hand up. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to feel like we¡¯ve pushed you into anything, or taken advantage of your emotions or anything!¡±


    Well, now that there was no mistaking their intentions, I had to actually think about my response. And maybe get some of my questions answered too.


    ¡°Well, I guess my first question is¡­ why me? I mean, is it just because you think I¡¯m cute?¡± I asked, reaching up and poking at one of my ears, which flicked of its own accord. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t agree, I¡¯m not blind, but this body still doesn¡¯t a hundred percent feel like mine, so¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, not at all!¡± Elle jumped in when I began to trail off. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, Sam, you are adorable, but that¡¯s far from the only reason I like you. You¡¯re also clever, and kind, and brave! I heard about the way you stood up to Bentley in the bakery, and seeing you confront him in the tavern too, it was amazing!¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ wow, that¡¯s¡­ more than I was expecting,¡± I said, looking away from Elle¡¯s intense expression and squirming a bit. ¡°I don¡¯t know how ¡®brave¡¯ that really was, more like dumb and lucky. The first time I didn¡¯t even know he was the son of the mayor, and the second time¡­ well, okay, maybe a little.¡±


    I glanced up at Mel, wondering if she had her own reasons. Unlike Elle she hadn¡¯t seemed as taken with my appearance, and until today less quick to lavish me with physical attention, but that may have just been her being the more reserved of the two. Catching my eye, she smirked.


    ¡°Well, I pretty much agree with all that, but what I think I like most about you is your tenacity,¡± Mel said, letting out a chuckle. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s a little different now, before I thought you¡¯d just had to break yourself out of a very sheltered life at the hands of some unscrupulous nobles, but now, knowing you¡¯re not even from this world? I can¡¯t imagine how confused and scared and alone you must have felt, but you¡¯ve kept going.¡±


    ¡°Barely¡­¡± I muttered at the floor. Mel moved, stepping in front of me and kneeling, putting a hand on my shoulder, and I raised my head to look at her.


    ¡°Sam, you¡¯ve had something happen to you that I can¡¯t even imagine going through, and you haven¡¯t been able to talk to anyone about it, of course you¡¯re having a hard time handling it all on your own,¡± Mel said, her tone equal parts serious and concerned. ¡°Not to mention, and, no offense, but it sounds like your world kind of sucks. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s more you could tell us about it, but it seems like you¡¯ve been dealing with more than you should have been, before you even came here.¡±


    Geez, and now I was tearing up again. How did Mel always seem to know how to say exactly what I needed to hear? Her face softened again and she reached up, using her thumb to gently wipe away a tear that had stared down my cheek.


    ¡°And that¡¯s also why I want to extend a branch to you. It¡¯s not just about being in a relationship, a branch also provides shade,¡± Mel said, and I sniffed and furrowed my brow, confused if she was still talking in some extended elven metaphor. She chuckled and shook her head. ¡°Sorry, I know it¡¯s hard to get if you didn¡¯t grow up with it. What I mean is, I want to help you too. For us, being a part of a relationship, joining an orchard, means having people who look out for you, who support you when you need it, and by the bough do you need it, Sam. And I don¡¯t just mean helping you grow your roots, I mean we¡¯ll be here if you have questions about this world too, things you can¡¯t ask just anyone, regardless of what your decision winds up being.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I see,¡± I said, sniffing again and wiping my eyes clear. I obviously still didn¡¯t quite get the whole picture, but it already sounded much nicer than the admittedly limited view of relationships I¡¯d gotten so far. I had never been able to conceive of anyone wanting to date me back on Earth, but I had watched so many of my peers take their first stumbling steps into romance and come out of it worse off.


    ¡°I have another question,¡± I said, clearing my throat. Mel, gave my shoulder one more squeeze and nodded, standing back up and rejoining Elle.


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Mel said.


    ¡°This all sounds¡­ really nice but really intense, and I¡¯m just wondering how much of a commitment I¡¯d be making,¡± I said, scratching at the back of my neck. ¡°I¡¯ve never been in any kind of relationship before, ever, but I¡¯ve seen a lot of them going on around me with the other kids at school, and I¡¯ve seen a lot of messy breakups, er, that is, when a couple splits up, and I¡¯m just wondering, what happens if things don¡¯t work out? Er, not that I think they won¡¯t, I mean, I haven¡¯t even said yes yet, I just mean¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Sam,¡± Mel cut in and I halted my rambling. ¡°I get that it can sound like a lot, so it¡¯s good to bring this up now. You wouldn¡¯t be making a life-long choice to stay with us forever.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Elle said, piping up again after letting Mel take the lead for a while. ¡°If for any reason you decide it¡¯s not working out for you, nothing terrible will happen. We¡¯ll both understand, and we wouldn¡¯t want to stop helping you or being your friends, we just wouldn¡¯t be together anymore. Does that help?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± I said, once again looking back and forth between the two of them. ¡°Yeah that helps a lot, actually¡­¡±


    Elle and Mel exchanged another quick glance, both smiling, then continued to look at me expectantly. Either for me to ask another question, or for me to give my answer to their proposition. With all that I had learned over the past however long I¡¯d been sitting in their living room, it was a lot easier to come to a decision.


    I had left my home planet behind and been dropped on my ass into a strange, fantastic world, where magic existed and I saw elves and dwarves who knows what else on an everyday basis. I had been made into a half-human, half-cat, which meant I now craved fish more than anything in the world, I had to take frequent naps to recharge my batteries, and I liked to climb up to high places and had the acrobatics to pull it off, and those were just the features I¡¯d discovered so far. I had been turned into a girl, or, from a certain perspective, I had been a girl for a long time and now I just looked like one too, courtesy of unknowable deities who may or may not be responsible for my being here in the first place.


    I had left behind the only friends I had, and a family that I had felt like a stranger to for longer than I was ready to admit.


    So, when two very nice, very pretty elf girls said they liked me, said they wanted me to be their girlfriend, and help me make my way in this new world no matter what, I didn¡¯t actually have to think very hard at all.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, smiling sheepishly up at the pair. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s¡­ give it a shot?¡±


    The pair had different but equally joyful reactions. Elle let out an actual cheer and thrust her fists into the air, grinning so brightly I was almost blinded, while Mel¡¯s own smile was much less broad, but still wider than anything I¡¯d ever seen from her before. I half expected them to turn and give each other high fives, but instead they shared a quick embrace and a quiet word, before descending on me like a flock of seagulls after a discarded french fry.


    I let out a startled yelp as I was once again sandwiched between the pair, getting a double dose of head pats with a side of snug, warm hugs, and I was purring so loud I worried their neighbors might hear.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Mel asked, and it actually took me a moment to form the words in my brain and push them out of my mouth.


    ¡°Y-y-yup!¡± I said, utterly unable to stop grinning no matter how hard I tried. My cheeks burned, and my heart felt like it might explode at any second. ¡°J-just¡­ a lot, very fast. I can¡¯t remember the last time I felt this happy.¡±


    ¡°Aww, noooo¡­¡± Elle crooned, her hold around my midsection tightening, pressing her cheek into the side of my head. ¡°Well we¡¯re going to make sure you can keep being this happy if it¡¯s the last thing we do!¡±


    ¡°O-o-okay¡­¡± I stammered, doing my best to hug her back. I didn¡¯t have enough arms for Elle, but remembering my trick with the door the day before, I brought my tail up and looped it around one of Mel¡¯s upper arms, and heard her let out a soft gasp beside me.


    We stayed like that for a while, just basking in each other¡¯s presence and, for my part, trying to fully digest everything that had just happened. At some point, Elle and Mel had another one of those conversations carried out entirely through looks and glances. I realized, with a thrill, that one day I might know them both well enough to be a part of one.


    Mel nudged me. ¡°Sam,¡± she said, and I turned my head to look up at her. ¡°We know you must be feeling a lot right now, so please, feel free to say no, but, is it okay if we kiss you?¡±


    I didn¡¯t think it was possible for my face to get any redder. I gaped at Mel, then glanced to my other side and saw Elle, thankfully looking just as flustered as me, and bit my lip.


    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ never really had a real¡­ romantic kiss before, ever,¡± I said, fidgeting as much as I could without nudging either of them loose. I had already taken so many huge leaps today, and I wasn¡¯t sure my heart could handle another, so I gently shook my head. ¡°Not just yet, I think, I need more time to be ready for that, but¡­ maybe, just on the cheeks for now? Is that okay?¡±


    Elle and Mel¡¯s eyes met over my head, and I practically saw the spark that passed between them. I¡¯d expected them to quickly decide who would get to go first, maybe with a game of turtle, eel, crab, but instead they both leaned down at once and, together, pecked both of my cheeks at once.


    My face felt like it was on fire as they pulled away, and my tongue felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, but I managed to splutter out a, ¡°W-w-wow!¡± I simply couldn¡¯t hold the amount of happiness I was feeling inside me and sit still at the same time, and soon found myself squirming in place, my tail thrashing about behind me.


    Determined not to let them get the better of me, I screwed up my courage and sat up enough to reach Elle¡¯s face, planting a very clumsy kiss right on her grinning cheek.


    I watched as her expression grew shocked, and at first I worried I had somehow done it wrong, but then her cheeks went through several shades of green while I pulled back?


    ¡°D-did I¡­ do it right?¡± I asked, and Elle¡¯s eyes widened even further before she clenched them shut, pressing a fist to her mouth to muffle a shrill squeal.


    ¡°Oooooh, Sammie, how are you this cute?!¡± Elle asked, fawning over me even more enthusiastically and, very unhelpfully, not answering my question.


    ¡°W-well, did I?¡± I asked again, huffing slightly.


    ¡°Hmm, I wasn¡¯t really paying attention that time,¡± Mel said from my other side, leaning down over me and turning her head, presenting her cheek to me. It was obvious she was just teasing me, but I wasn¡¯t going to pass up the chance. Putting on my most confident grin, I leaned up to meet her.


    I planted my lips right on Mel¡¯s proffered cheek, keeping my eyes on her the whole time. I still had no idea if I was doing it right, if I¡¯d aimed for the right spot, if my mouth was in the right shape. If I was having this much trouble already, how was I ever going to handle my first actual kiss?


    Pulling away, I studied Mel¡¯s face for any kind of reaction that might hint at her assessment of my kissing abilities, but she was giving nothing away.


    ¡°Well?¡± I said, hopefully.


    ¡°Mmh, not bad,¡± Mel answered thoughtfully as she sat up again, looking at me appraisingly with a small smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, there¡¯ll be plenty of time to practice.¡±


    Her¡­ promise? Threat? Whatever it was, it was enough to yank the rug right out from under my brain, and I spent several seconds just sputtering and blushing before I accepted the fact that I simply couldn¡¯t form the words I¡¯d need to respond, let alone the thoughts to put those words in the right order. I just let myself sit and bask while I rebooted.


    Later, when I could form coherent thoughts again, I had my head resting against Elle¡¯s shoulder, taking in her light, lemony scent, and realized now that they knew I was from another world, I could ask them so many of the questions that had been burning away in the back of my mind, starting with one of the most puzzling ones of all.


    ¡°Hey, so, can I ask another question about elves?¡± I asked, and both Elle and Mel nodded for me to go on. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if this is actually a crazy rude thing to ask, but it¡¯s been bugging me for days, why do you smell like fruit?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Elle giggled, shrugging the shoulder that I wasn¡¯t leaning on. ¡°That¡¯s an easy one, and it¡¯s not rude at all. It¡¯s actually really simple; we are fruits.¡±

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.11.1

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 11


    ¡ö


    I, very understandably in my opinion, needed a bit of a break before I felt ready to deal with whatever the heck Elle meant when she said that elves were fruit. I said as much, and Mel suggested we step outside for some fresh air and sunlight. We¡¯d all been cooped up in their living room for quite a while, so Elle and I agreed, and the three of us headed out into the communal courtyard in front of their home.


    I''d seen part of it on the way in, but stepping into the center of the courtyard, I found myself in a miniaturized version of the park we¡¯d walked through the day before. There were trees to provide shade, and benches molded from the wood itself. Instead of flower bushes filling the space, there were instead rows and rows of various berry bushes, and many of the trees appeared to be fruit trees as well. Elle had brought a basket and a pair of thick gloves with her, and broke off to go tend to some of the plants, while Mel and I continued to a bench. Taking a seat, I was surprised by a yawn that slipped out before I could stop it.


    ¡°Tired?¡± Mel asked, sitting down beside me and smirking.


    ¡°Uuuugh,¡± I groaned, shaking my head. ¡°I just slept before I came here! No wonder nobody thinks catkin can get anything done, if they all have to sleep this much this often.¡±


    Mel chuckled, giving me a conciliatory pat on the head. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve been very busy, haven¡¯t you?¡± she said with a far too suggestive wink.


    ¡°U-uhm!¡± I sputtered out and turned my face away, my cheeks burning. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can call spending an hour crying and snuggling being busy¡­¡±


    ¡°Heh,¡± Mel chuckled, shifting her fingers to scratch around behind one of my ears, which had me momentarily spacing out until she spoke again. ¡°Well, Elle is going to be at it for a bit, you could lay down for a few minutes if you want to,¡± she said, patting at her lap with her other hand. I stared back at her for a moment before heaving out a tired sigh.


    ¡°The worst part is you¡¯re probably completely right,¡± I said, scooting sideways along the bench until I could tip myself over and rest my head in Mel¡¯s lap. I felt a little embarrassed at first, doing something like this so brazenly out in public, or in front of Elle and Mel¡¯s neighbors at least, but it was also kind of exciting too. I had a girlfriend now. Two of them even! Take that, Chad! Sure, I didn¡¯t know the first thing about being in a relationship, but I knew I definitely didn¡¯t want to disappoint or embarrass either of them. And didn''t people in relationships buy gifts for each other sometimes? I still had to start paying Felda back for taking me in, and now this; I really needed to get better at fishing, and fast.


    As if she could sense my brain filling up with extra troubling thoughts and worries instead of relaxing, Mel¡¯s fingers once again found the top of my head and she began to scratch in lazy circles. I purred, taking a deep breath and letting it out slow, noting the way Mel¡¯s scent mirrored those of the berry bushes surrounding us. Between the scritching, and how soft her lap was, and how warm the beams of sunlight peeking through the trees were, I was out like a light before I even realized.


    The only indication that any time had passed at all was that when I blinked my eyes open again, Elle had returned, and her basket was loaded down with fruit and berries.


    ¡°Aw, look at you two,¡± Elle cooed as I sat up, setting the basket down on the bench and removing her work gloves. She leaned down to kiss Mel, then moved to me, giving me another quick peck on the cheek before taking her seat beside me, leaving me flustered and once again pinned between the two of them.


    ¡°How¡¯re they looking?¡± Mel asked over my head while I just sat, my palm resting against my cheek, trying to figure out if I wasn¡¯t still asleep and dreaming.


    ¡°Good!¡± Elle said, beaming, pulling the basket into her lap. ¡°The strawberries are coming in great, they should start to ripen within the next two weeks. The peaches won¡¯t be ready for a while, but we¡¯ve already got plenty of plums now.¡±


    As she spoke, she offered the basket towards me and Mel, showing the large pile of juicy looking blueish-purple plums next to a small mountain of mixed berries. Mel reached out and picked up one of the plums, and I picked out a small handful of raspberries and began tossing them into my mouth.


    ¡°Mmh¡­¡± I hummed as I savored the berries, taking a few seconds to recollect my thoughts. ¡°Okay, so,¡± I said, swallowing and clearing my throat. ¡°Elves are fruit?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± Mel said, taking a large bite out of the plum. She locked eyes with me and chewed, slowly, while I stared back.


    ¡°Well, we''re not literally walking, talking fruits,¡± Elle said with a giggle, holding her arm up and pinching it. ¡°We''re still flesh and blood inside, but the original elves were born from fruit trees eons ago, and we''re still¡­ maybe thirty percent fruit?¡±


    ¡°What exactly does that mean?¡± I asked, narrowing my eyes in confusion.


    ¡°Well, it mostly has to do with¡­ uhm, well, Sammie, do you know how human babies are made?¡± Elle asked hesitantly.


    ¡°Yes, of course I do!¡± I said, rolling my eyes, but then paused. ¡°Well, I know how humans on Earth do it, and I''m just assuming it''s the same here.¡± Then, the implication of Elle''s specific emphasis on the word ¡°human¡± hit me and I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Wait, why, does it work differently for elves?¡±


    ¡°Vastly,¡± Mel said, chuckling through another mouthful of plum. ¡°It''s actually kinda weird to have to even explain it in the first place, everyone just kinda knows. We don''t really shy away from talking about it.¡±


    ¡°You''re not about to tell me elves literally grow out of the ground from seeds, are you?¡± I asked, and both Elle and Mel had a good laugh at that.


    Catching her breath, Mel finally answered, ¡°No, no, that''s ridiculous.¡± But my relief was short lived, as she immediately clarified, ¡°only dwarves and orcs come from the ground, elves come from trees.¡±


    As though to demonstrate, Mel motioned towards the many trees surrounding us, their branches laden with various types of fruit.


    I silently brought a hand up to my forehead and just held it there for a moment.


    ¡°Are you going to be alright?¡± Elle asked, concerned.


    ¡°I think so,¡± I said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. ¡°I just¡­ a lot of my expectations are getting upended today... So, there are orcs here too?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Mel said. ¡°Well, not many here in Rower¡¯s Rest, but you would''ve seen them among the pirates that showed up last night.¡±


    I furrowed my brow, thinking about the many varied races I''d seen spread across the pirate crew, and instantly realized which ones were most likely to be orcs.


    ¡°You mean the people with mushrooms on them?¡± I asked, and Mel smiled and nodded.


    ¡°Yeah, you got it. They''re something like cousins to the elves, we both have our homelands to the south.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, taking that in and tilting my head. ¡°That''s¡­ way different from how everybody thinks of orcs from¡­ from my world.¡±


    I was momentarily worried about the prospect of being overheard, but it looked like Elle and Mel¡¯s neighbors were giving our section of the garden a wide berth for the time being.


    ¡°I thought there were only humans in your world?¡± Elle asked.


    ¡°Oh yeah, there are, but I mean we have stories about, well, a lot of things I''ve seen here, like elves and orcs and dwarves, but none of them fit exactly right. For one thing, orcs are usually just big, angry, green guys,¡± I said, leaving out that they were usually also always evil. Distance or not, I wasn¡¯t risking being overheard saying something else that might get me in huge trouble. ¡°And elves are usually just all tall and pale and blonde, and a lot of times they¡¯re real haughty assholes who think they¡¯re better than everyone else.¡±


    At that, Mel snorted and Elle pursed her lips.


    ¡°That is not a very flattering image,¡± Elle said, frowning. ¡°I hope you didn''t think of us like that when we first met.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, not at all,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°Like you said, I didn''t even know you were elves at first, and besides, I never liked the stories that just went with the ¡®classic¡¯ depiction of elves anyway. One of my other friends used to say they¡¯re only like that because everyone was just copying all their ideas from one old guy who wrote some super popular fantasy books a long while ago, and I think the elves in that were supposed to be a metaphor for¡­ something¡­¡± I could see Elle and Mel were looking increasingly lost, so I quickly wrapped up that loose thread. ¡°A-anyway, I never got around to reading them, but I did see the movies.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± Mel asked.


    ¡°Ah, shit,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°Uh, nevermind, we can go over stuff like movies and computers and¡­ everything else later, I feel like once I get started on those we''ll be at it for hours.¡± I waved my hand, as though clearing smoke from the air, and refocused my eyes on the pair. ¡°So, elves? Trees?¡±


    ¡°Ah, alright.¡± Mel shrugged, finishing the last bite of her plum and tossing the core into the grass behind her. ¡°Well, first off, do you know about pollination?¡±


    ¡°Like¡­ with flowers? And bees?¡± I asked hesitantly, and Mel snickered again.


    ¡°Sure, though there are lots of other animals that help with pollination, but this isn¡¯t a gardening lesson.¡± Tilting her head back to rest on the bench and looking up at the tree directly overhead, she continued, ¡°So, when an orchard collectively comes to the decision that they''re ready to have a kid, it kinda flips a mental switch and one of the members enters an, uh¡­ Elle, help me out here?¡±


    ¡°A heightened magical state,¡± Elle supplied, patting Mel''s shoulder and taking over in a surprisingly scholarly voice. ¡°Their body becomes receptive to the unique mana signatures of their partners, and over the course of the next few days begins to accumulate mana from each of them and meld it together inside their body. This process is also called pollination, and it''s customary for the entire orchard to spend as much time together as possible during this period. Once they''re¡­ uh, ¡®full''¡±¡ªMel snorted quietly at that and Elle lightly swatted her shoulder without skipping a beat¡ª¡°they just have to go to one of their community''s elftrees and pass the ¡®seed¡¯ into it, where it will sprout from one of the branches and grow over the course of the next eight quarters, give or take, into a healthy baby elf.¡±


    I waited to see if there was any more to her explanation, but Elle just smiled patiently and folded her hands in her lap, so I took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.


    ¡°Pff¡­ wow, okay,¡± I said, leaning back on the bench again. ¡°You really weren''t kidding. Well, that answers one question and raises a whole bunch more¡­ so, elves don¡¯t have¡­¡± I paused, still wary of being overheard, and lowered my voice to a whisper. ¡°Sex?¡±


    To my right, Mel burst out laughing, immediately trying and failing to stifle herself while Elle clapped a hand over her mouth, flushing green. Though they were too far away to have heard me, I saw a few of the neighbors on their porches turning their heads curiously in our direction.


    ¡°S-stop laughing, Mel!¡± Elle sputtered, reaching over to shake her by the shoulder, which only seemed to amuse her more, while I contemplated seeing how deeply I could burrow into the ground. When Mel did eventually regain her composure, she had to wipe a few tears from her eyes.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Mel said, in between chuckles. ¡°Sorry, sorry, that¡¯s just¡­ such a funny question to ask.¡± Clearing her throat a few times, she gave me a smirk that had me blushing even harder. ¡°Of course we do, Sam, but sex and reproduction are different things, especially for elves.¡±


    ¡°O-oh¡­ I¡­ I see¡­¡± I said, glancing from Mel¡¯s smirking face to Elle, whose face was hidden in one of her hands again, but I could see that even the tips of her ears were green now. It was definitely time to change the subject.


    ¡°Now I¡¯m kind of scared to ask about how it works for orcs or dwarves,¡± I said, shaking my head and kicking my legs out in front of me. ¡°And, well, I know you offered to help me understand this world more, and I definitely appreciate it, but I don''t really want to just sit here and pelt you with questions all afternoon. Maybe it¡¯s because of that nap just now, but I feel too wound up to keep sitting here either.¡±


    ¡°Heh, fair enough,¡± Mel said, chuckling and reaching across to pat at Elle¡¯s back. ¡°We''ve still got plenty of questions for you too, but we can space them out a bit. Our original plan for today was to show you around more of the village, do you still feel up for that, after everything?¡±


    ¡°Totally,¡± I said, hopping to my feet in an instant. As much as I complained about having to nap so much, it did feel great to be so brimming with energy after just laying my head down for ten minutes or so.


    Elle, recovered from her embarrassment, stood up with the basket. ¡°Ah, alright, let me just take these inside, and I should feed Clover before we go.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Clover?¡± I asked, following, and Elle visibly perked up, her ears bouncing as she turned to smile at me.


    ¡°Oh, right, you haven¡¯t met her yet! Come on, I¡¯ll show you!¡± she said excitedly, grabbing my hand. We stepped back into the house and Elle led me into the room to the left of the entrance, opposite the sitting room. I found it to be evenly split between a cozy little dining area, with a round wooden table surrounded by chairs placed before one of the wide windows, and a shelf containing more plants and a handful of books. Attached to the dining room was a small kitchen, consisting of a short counter beside a large metal stove, a waist-high box made of the same black-and-green material as Bart¡¯s ice chest, and another open doorway into a pantry area, where Elle moved to deposit the basket of fruit.


    Glancing around, I noticed a wide bowl placed on the floor made of a greenish-tinted wood, with a word carved into the side.


    ¡°Clover,¡± I read aloud, realizing it was the name of a pet. I wondered if it was a cat, or a dog, or maybe something else. I wasn¡¯t sure how I¡¯d feel if it turned out Elle and Mel had an actual cat as a pet.


    ¡°Mmhm, she¡¯s the sweetest, I just need to fix her something to eat real quick,¡± Elle said, returning from the pantry. I stood back and watched while Elle chopped up two carrots and a large cucumber, then moved to the black box and opened it, revealing the inside to be lined with ice, a cold mist waving out as she dug around inside and pulled out¡­


    ¡°Are those bones?¡± I asked, as Elle collected a small handful of bones about as long as a finger, with bits of meat still stuck to them.


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, yes, chicken bones,¡± Elle said, smiling as she carried them over to the pile of chopped vegetables. ¡°They¡¯re her favorite.¡±


    I was¡­ pretty certain now that Clover was not a pet cat. Or a dog, even. Elle picked up the cutting board and carried it to the bowl, pushing the small pile into it, then standing up and cupping one hand around her mouth.


    ¡°Clover, here girl!¡± she called, then made a strange popping noise with her mouth. I waited, intensely curious, until I began to hear a similar popping sound coming from the hall, except much wetter. It grew steadily louder, until a pile of lime green ooze the size of a basketball sloshed around the corner, burbling as it went.


    ¡°There she is,¡± Elle cooed while I stared in a mixture of fascination and horror as the ball of slime glided across the wooden floor towards the bowl. Once it was there, it simply shlorped its way up into the bowl with the pile of vegetables and bones, which began to float around inside the mass like the world¡¯s worst gelatin dessert.


    ¡°What¡­ the heck is that?¡± I said dumbly, just watching the now perfectly spherical green orb sit and jiggle in place while its contents slowly swirled inside it.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Elle said, giggling. ¡°Right, you wouldn¡¯t have these where you come from, would you? No magic means no magical creatures, huh?¡± She walked over to stand beside me, smiling and motioning at the ooze. ¡°Well, this is Clover, and she¡¯s a green slime.¡±


    ¡°A¡­ slime,¡± I said, tilting my head slightly and taking a step closer.


    ¡°Mmhm, slimes are one of the simplest magical creatures in existence,¡± Elle said, again sounding a bit like she was delivering a lecture. ¡°They come in all sorts of colors, and they make great pets because they¡¯ll eat almost anything. They can also provide ingredients for certain potions; every so often when she gets too big, we drain her excess slime and sell it to one of the alchemists around town.¡±


    Huh, kind of like a pet cow. Okay, no, not that much like a cow at all, but I was still reeling from the sight of the slime and the revelation that there were other animals in this world besides just the ones that resembled regular Earth creatures.


    ¡°Can I¡­ pet her?¡± I asked, looking back at Elle.


    ¡°Not while she¡¯s eating,¡± Elle said, snickering. ¡°She might try to dissolve your hand, but when we get back you can play with her if you want.¡±


    I looked again, and sure enough I could see that the bits of meat that had been on the bones were almost entirely gone, and many of the chunks of carrot were smaller and rounder around the edges, as though they¡¯d been melted.


    I took a step back. And then another. Elle giggled, taking my hand again.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯s just a houseslime, she¡¯s harmless,¡± Elle said, leading me back to the door.


    ¡°Wait, does that mean there are slimes that aren''t harmless?¡± I asked as Elle and I put our shoes back on.


    ¡°Oh, absolutely!¡± Elle said gravely. ¡°Not so dangerous that you''d need to call in a hunter, but wild slimes can be a real threat if they grow too big, or a colony gets too large.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, furrowing my brow. That made sense, if one slime was basically a mobile blob of acid, then a bunch of them together could probably be a serious threat to someone unprepared. ¡°Are there wild slimes around here?¡±


    ¡°There are wild slimes everywhere,¡± Elle said as we stepped outside to rejoin Mel. ¡°They¡¯re one of the most common magical creatures, because all they need to form is an environment with enough mana in it.¡±


    ¡°Oh boy, you got her talkin¡¯ about slimes,¡± Mel said, grinning. ¡°She''ll be at it for the next hour now, at least.¡±


    ¡°Well I''m sorry,¡± Elle shot back with exaggerated offense, hands on her hips. ¡°I can''t help it if I find them so fascinating!¡± Turning back to me, she said more genuinely, ¡°Ah, but, I won''t bore you, Sammie.¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± I asked with a laugh, falling in at Elle¡¯s side as we began to head for the gateway. ¡°One of my favorite things to do back on Earth was listen to Morgan go on and on about stuff. Even if I didn''t always know what she was talking about, it was just nice to see her so excited, and you''re talking about magical creatures. There''s no way I could be bored by that.¡±


    For some reason, my words had caused Elle¡¯s ears to turn green again, and she stumbled a bit before she managed to continue speaking.


    ¡°A-ah, well, o-okay!¡± Elle said, excitedly, and launched right back into her explanation. ¡°So, like I said, there are wild slimes outside of the village, but you shouldn''t worry too much about them. You''d have to go pretty deep into the forest to risk encountering enough of them to be in danger, and Bart could easily deal with any that wander up while you''re both out there by the river. In fact, you could probably handle them better than him; you''ve got claws!¡± Elle reached down, taking one of my hands and holding it up, showing off my claws as if I didn''t know they were there. Which, to be fair, I did still sometimes forget. ¡°Most slimes are very susceptible to being slashed or pierced, except metallic slimes, those you want to bash, and then melt them if possible, but there''s likely very few, if any, metallic slimes on Torgard.¡±


    ¡°Huh, neat,¡± I said. Even though Elle had finished using my hand as a demonstration aide, she still held onto it as we walked, her fingers seemingly automatically finding the spaces between my own and slipping into them. We were holding hands, and she didn''t even seem to realize, but I sure as hell did, and so did Mel. When her eyes met mine over Elle¡¯s shoulder, she just grinned and held a finger to her lips, and I got the feeling she was telling me, ¡°Let¡¯s see how long it takes her to notice.¡±


    It wasn''t until after we had left the residential district behind and made it all the way to the park, which I was starting to think might be the center of the village, that Elle finally did notice.


    She was in the middle of explaining the role slimes served inside the ecosystem ¡°¡ªimportant not only for breaking down dead matter, but also for recycling mana¡ª¡± when her emphatically gesturing free hand happened to brush against Mel and she missed a step.


    ¡°Oh, sorry!¡± she said, patting Mel''s shoulder, the motion finally making her realize it was not Mel¡¯s hand she''d been holding the whole time. Her head whipped around to face me so fast her ears flapped, her cheeks green and her eyes wide.


    ¡°Ah, oh, I am so sorry, Sammie!¡± she said, disentangling her fingers from mine and holding both hands up, palms out. Mel, of course, burst out laughing, though I tried to stifle my own snickering. Key word being ¡°tried.¡±


    ¡°What''re you apologizing for?¡± I asked, after we''d gotten it out of our systems and started walking again. ¡°If anything, I¡¯m the one who should¡¯ve said something, but still, we¡¯re¡­ we¡¯re girlfriends now, so, we¡¯re supposed to hold hands sometimes, right?¡±


    ¡°Girl¡­ friends?¡± Mel said skeptically.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ what you call it when you¡¯re dating a girl, y¡¯know? Like, when a guy and a girl get together, they¡¯re boyfriend and girlfriend, right?¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Mel said, not sounding any more convinced. ¡°I¡¯ve heard some of the old timers use the term ¡®lady friend,¡¯ but ¡®girlfriend?¡¯ That sounds like it just means a friend who is also a girl.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ not wrong,¡± I said, sighing and bringing a hand to my forehead. ¡°Actually, it does also mean that, too, sometimes girls will call other girls their girlfriends but they¡¯re not actually going out, it¡¯s actually really confusing.¡±


    ¡°Your world is so weird, Sammie,¡± Elle said, shaking her head.


    ¡°Well, what do you call it then?¡± I said, just a tad defensively. It wasn¡¯t like I was some kind of Earth ambassador or anything.


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s lots of things!¡± Elle said, suddenly grinning and clapping her hands together in front of her. ¡°There¡¯s ¡®suitor¡¯ or ¡®admirer,¡¯ but that¡¯s for people who want to be in a relationship, Mel¡¯s boring so she usually just sticks with ¡®partners¡¯ or ¡®companions,¡¯ but my favorite is ¡®sweethearts!¡¯¡±


    ¡°Euugh,¡± I said, sticking my tongue out. ¡°That¡¯s so old-fashioned! That¡¯s like what people called each other in the fifties¡­ or, was it the twenties¡­¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± Mel asked, once again leaning around Elle.


    ¡°The nineteen fifties,¡± I said. ¡°Like, the year, one thousand nine hundred and fifty.¡±


    They both gaped at that, seemingly stunned, but Elle was the first to recover.


    ¡°You lived during an era that lasted almost two thousand years?¡± Elle asked, clearly amazed.


    ¡°Well, technically, when I left it was over two thousand, but, yeah?¡± I said, smirking a little. It felt good to actually be the one on the giving end of a mind blowing revelation for once. ¡°That''s a good point though, what year is it here? I haven''t seen a calendar once since I arrived, and I still haven''t even managed to figure out what all the days of the week are called.¡±


    The pair exchanged a quick glance at that, with Mel taking the lead this time.


    ¡°Well, it can depend on who you ask, but as far as most of the world is concerned, it''s the year seven twenty-three, in the Era of Magic. The church of Time and Tide and the dwarves both keep their own calendars, but we can get into that later.¡±


    ¡°Huh, okay, seven twen¡ª actually, hold on.¡± I broke off and reached into my satchel, pulling out the blank notebook I''d bought before and the not-quite-pencil thing, and flipped to the back pages. I wrote down the current year, looking up at them again. ¡°You said ¡®the Era of Magic?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± Mel said, watching curiously as I scribbled while we walked. ¡°Some people also like to call it the Age of the Mage, but it''s the same thing.¡±


    ¡°Why is it called that?¡± I asked, glancing up. I had never been the most studious, uh, student, and would usually have to beg Morgan for her notes, but this was actually important if I was going to fit in better.


    ¡°Because the current era is measured from when the Independent Council of Mages was formed and first began spreading magic to the populace,¡± Elle said, and I had to pause my scribbling.


    ¡°Wait, magic¡¯s only been a thing here for like seven hundred years?¡± I asked, and Elle let out a surprised giggle.


    ¡°I keep forgetting you don¡¯t know anything we take for common knowledge here,¡± Elle said, shaking her head. ¡°But, no, magic has been a part of this world since before the mortal races were even born, since the very beginning and probably even before, it¡¯s just that before the Council existed, not everyone had access to it.¡±


    Oh, I couldn¡¯t wait to hear what that meant, but unfortunately we had arrived at our destination. I was surprised, because I didn¡¯t even know we had a destination when we left, but Elle suddenly turned away mid explanation and looked up, announcing, ¡°Oh, we¡¯re here!¡±


    ¡°Here¡± turned out to be Dani¡¯s tailoring shop from the day before. I recognized the wide windows and well dressed mannequins, and inside I could see Dani herself behind the counter, talking with another customer.


    ¡°What''re we doin¡¯ here?¡± I asked, tilting my head.


    ¡°Dani wanted us to bring you by, she''s apparently finished one set of your new clothes and wants to see if she got the fit right,¡± Mel said, reaching out and opening the door for me and Elle. Stepping inside, I caught the tail end of Dani''s conversation with the surprisingly large man standing at her counter.


    ¡°¡ªhave those ready well before the festival, don''t you worry, Rodrigo.¡±


    ¡°I would never dare doubt your skills, Danella, darling,¡± the large man said with a deep, smoothly accented voice that had the fur on my tail standing on end.


    ¡°Oh, get out of here, you sweet-talker, you,¡± Dani said, pressing one hand to her cheek, holding the other out towards the man and making a shooing motion. But the man just caught her hand in his much larger one and leaned down, pressing his lips to the back of it.


    ¡°As you wish,¡± the man said, while Dani tittered, then seemed to finally notice the rest of us.


    ¡°Oh, girls, there you are!¡± she called, not at all embarrassed to have been caught flirting with a customer, like I¡¯d expected. ¡°Well don¡¯t just stand there in the doorway, come in!¡±


    ¡°S-sorry!¡± I called, since I¡¯d been the first one to enter before freezing at the realization of what I was seeing. I hurried closer to the counter just in time for the large man to turn around and face us, and for a second I thought the world¡¯s wealthiest bear had wandered into Dani¡¯s shop.


    The man was, like most people were to me now, quite tall, with tanned skin and a swept-back mane of black hair. His eyebrows, beard, and mustache were similarly thick and bushy, but not in an unruly way, and his large forearms were also covered in the same thick black hair. He was dressed in black trousers with suspenders over a honey-yellow silken shirt, with a little half-cape that hung off one shoulder, the outside of which was black but the inside of which was some shiny dark amber material. Finally, perched atop his head was a black hat sporting a huge plume of yellow feathers.


    I was almost blinded as the sunlight from outside caught the man, and his various bits of jewelry twinkled. He had multiple piercings in his ears of thin gold loops, gold buttons on his shirt and gold buckles on his boots, and, a bit like Dani, multiple bangles jangling on his wrists. The only thing that wasn¡¯t gold was a thin silver chain with a pendant attached, hanging from his neck.


    ¡°Ah-ha!¡± the man said, lifting his hat off his head and giving the three of us a sweeping bow. ¡°My apologies if I held you ladies up, I was simply concluding some business with Lady Dewglass.¡± Behind him, Dani laughed again.


    ¡°Not at all, Mister De Campo,¡± Elle said with a polite smile, and the gears in my brain finally started spinning again after I¡¯d been flashbanged by the man¡¯s jewelry.


    ¡°Did you say De Campo?¡± I asked, because if his appearance hadn¡¯t been enough to clue me in, the name all but sealed the deal. The man¡¯s dark eyes fixed on me, and he grinned.


    ¡°Yes, that is I!¡± he said, pressing his hand to his barrel shaped chest and bowing his head, still all smiles. ¡°Rodrigo De Campo, head of the Rower''s Rest Merchant¡¯s Guild, at your service!¡±


    ¡°Sam,¡± I said automatically, then, since I didn¡¯t really want to be too rude to this guy right away, I hastily added, ¡°er, I mean, Samantha Fisher, local¡­ fisher. I¡¯ve, uh, met your son.¡±


    ¡°Ah, and I have heard of you!¡± Rodrigo said, straightening up and looking me over more closely. ¡°From my little Roberto, in fact. Is it true you fear neither work, nor water?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ yes?¡± I said, tilting my head slightly.


    ¡°Fantastic! And most curious, for one of your kind,¡± Rodrigo said, clapping his hands together and making his bangles jangle. ¡°It is always wonderful to welcome new business to the village, even an independent angler such as yourself. My boy did not give you any trouble, did he?¡±


    ¡°Not really¡­¡± I said, furrowing my brow in thought as I tried to recall my last encounter with Bentley and his friends. I was still trying to get a read on this guy, but he didn¡¯t seem predisposed against me at least. ¡°I mean, no, he didn¡¯t give me any trouble, but he did have some really shitty things to say about demihumans working with food.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, that business with the bakery, I have heard,¡± Rodrigo said with a shake of his head, his smile finally faltering. ¡°I would beg your forgiveness if I felt it was earned, but I have heard some of the things he says for myself. He is¡­ young, and impressionable, and I¡¯m afraid he has spent too much time around the wrong sorts while accompanying me to the capital.¡±


    ¡°Oh really?¡± I asked, crossing my arms. I had been ready to just let the man make whatever excuses he was going to for the sake of his son and then leave, but I was mildly curious about what he had to say.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Rodrigo said, letting out a sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t think I need to tell you what attitudes are like in high society, and try as they might to discourage them, the kingdom cannot officially bar their representatives from visiting the capital without attracting even more trouble, much as I wish they would. And with them they bring their rotten attitudes, their ideas of who is worth more and who is worth less, and pass those ideas off onto those who are all too eager to please them, and in turn onto their children, and, eventually, ours.¡±


    Catching himself just as he began to scowl, Rodrigo cleared his throat and nodded his head to me.


    ¡°My apologies, I¡¯ve gone and slipped into a speech,¡± he said, once again smiling pleasantly, if not as widely. ¡°I will leave you three to your business. Enjoy the rest of your day, and if my son does give you any more trouble, pay him no heed.¡±


    With that, he turned briefly to tip his hat at Dani one final time, then spun around so fast his cape swirled in the air, and strode briskly out of the tailor¡¯s shop.


    While the little bell hung above the door was still ringing, I rounded on Dani.


    ¡°Do you seriously like that guy?¡± I asked, pointing over my shoulder with a thumb. Dani gave a full-throated laugh into her hand, finally coming out from behind the counter to greet us.


    ¡°He is a very charming man, in fact,¡± Dani said, sweeping up to Elle and repeating her enthusiastic greeting from the day before; a quick hug and a little kiss on the forehead. Her eyes flicked over to me, then she lowered her voice and switched to elven while pretending to admire part of Elle¡¯s outfit. ¡°So, did you ask her?¡±


    ¡°O-oh, actually¡­¡± Elle said, also glancing at me. I grinned back at her.


    ¡°They did, actually,¡± I said, and Dani actually gasped, her amethyst eyes widening as she dropped all pretense.


    ¡°Oh, you speak Elvish?¡± she asked, and I paused for a moment, while out of Dani¡¯s view Elle and Mel exchanged a glance. That was a good question, could I? Mel had said I wasn¡¯t even currently speaking English, I was speaking ¡°Western Trade Common,¡± even though I didn¡¯t feel like I was doing anything differently, so maybe there was a way to¡­ change the language people heard when I spoke?


    Well, no time to figure that out while Dani was still waiting for a response.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ fluent enough to understand it, but I¡¯m not as good at speaking it myself,¡± I hastily explained, and Dani nodded in understanding.


    ¡°I see, I see,¡± Dani said, smiling, her cheeks turning a little purple. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sorry for trying to sneak that past you, but I¡¯m just so excited to find out if my favorite orchard has gained a new sapling.¡±


    Dani looked expectantly between the three of us, and Elle and Mel looked to me but didn¡¯t volunteer an answer, so I just shrugged and reached out, taking both of their hands in mine and grinning even wider.


    ¡°Oh, splendid!¡± Dani said, clapping her hands together then sweeping her arms out wide and enclosing all three of us in a tight embrace that once again left me feeling like a glob of jelly mushed between two slices of bread. ¡°I am so happy for you two, and you as well, Sam!¡±


    It took almost a full minute for Dani to finish congratulating us, though Mel and I were able to extricate ourselves from her arms and get a little breathing room while she and Elle chattered excitedly.


    ¡°She¡¯s really happy for you,¡± I observed, stretching my back a bit after nearly being crushed.


    ¡°Us,¡± Mel said, chuckling and rubbing the back of her neck. ¡°She¡¯s happy for us, and yeah, I figured she would be.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I said, smiling down at my feet at her insistence. I¡¯d never been an ¡°us¡± or a ¡°we¡± before, and it still made my heart race to think about. But it did bring another question to the forefront of my mind. ¡°Not that I¡¯m not appreciative, but, what is the deal with you and her anyway? Is she like¡­ related to one of you?¡±


    ¡°Heh, she might as well be,¡± Mel said, leaning back against a shelf and rubbing her chin. ¡°It might be hard to explain without getting too deep into elven culture, but think of her as something like¡­ an adoptive aunt? She¡¯s been here in the village a lot longer than us, so when me and Elle arrived, she saw to it that we both landed on our feet, helped us out a lot in the early days and¡­ well, we¡¯re both really grateful to her.¡±


    ¡°I think I get it,¡± I said, looking over to Dani and Elle and tapping my chin. ¡°My¡­ family back home had a guy who we called ¡®Uncle Rocko,¡¯ but he wasn¡¯t actually our uncle, like, he wasn¡¯t my dad¡¯s brother, but they¡¯d been friends a loooong time.¡± Mel chuckled a little at that, and I smiled, recalling some of the family barbeques and camping trips I could remember him coming along on, but the memories were bittersweet now.


    My ears barely had time to droop before Mel¡¯s hand found its way to the top of my head, and I leaned against her side and purred quietly while I did my best to rebury all those memories until I was in a better place to unearth them. Clearing my throat, I decided to try and steer the conversation in a different direction.


    ¡°Hey, so,¡± I began, tilting my head back to look up at Mel. ¡°That guy just now, he said something that I¡¯m confused about; he said I should know what attitudes are like in high society, which I¡¯ve kind of figured out just from what people say about me, that catkin are only found in high society.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Mel said, nodding along.


    ¡°But, then, he talked about it like it was a place, not just another word for the nobility,¡± I said, and Mel¡¯s nodding stopped, but I continued. ¡°Like, he mentioned they have ¡®representatives¡¯ that visit, and that¡¯s not the only time that¡¯s confused me. People keep saying things like they think I come from a specific place, about me being new ¡®down here,¡¯ or referring to some place ¡®up there,¡¯ and I have no idea what they mean by that, is there some place way up north where the most noble nobles all live, or what?¡±


    Mel stared for a moment, her brow slowly furrowing, all but confirming that this was a question I was glad I had waited to ask, because it was clearly not something anyone from this world would ask.


    ¡°Up¡­ north¡­¡± Mel finally said, shaking her head. ¡°No, Sam, that¡¯s not what it means. For starters, high society is a place, or, a bunch of places. High society is the name for all the islands above the surface, and the people that live on them. They¡¯re worse than even the most out-of-touch nobles down here, because they think living in the sky and having more money than anyone anywhere makes them better by default. That¡¯s what people mean when they say ¡®up there.¡¯¡±


    Mel finished off her explanation by pointing upwards. Straight up, at the sky, like I was certain I¡¯d seen people do before, but just never realized what they actually meant.


    Several things rushed back to me all at once, and it finally clicked.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    ¡°Tweren''t no island¡¯s passin¡¯ overhead last night¡­¡± Bart had been saying, one of the first things I¡¯d ever heard him say as a matter of fact, while I was still lying groggy and disoriented in Felda¡¯s bed and mistaking their voices for a tv show.


    I recalled the painting that had been hanging in the hall in Felda¡¯s tavern. An island in the clouds with a city built on top of it, and what Peter had said when he¡¯d tried to introduce himself to me.


    ¡°My apologies, did I do it wrong? I haven¡¯t been back to the skies in quite a while, so I¡¯m a bit rusty on greeting catkin.¡±


    It finally made sense. All along, people hadn¡¯t been saying ¡°high society.¡± They were saying High Society.


    That¡¯s¡­ so dumb!


    At that moment, while I was still resisting the urge to slap myself in the forehead, Dani and Elle finally wrapped up their conversation and returned to us.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry, just so much to catch up on,¡± Dani said as she approached, and I wiped the exasperated look off my face before either of them could notice. So there were islands in the clouds? So the place everyone assumed I was from, and the only place I was guaranteed to ever meet another catkin was some kind of ultra-rich sky society built on top of a bunch of floating islands? So¡­ so what? This world had magic and monsters and pirates and elves that grew on trees like fruit. Was that even the strangest thing I¡¯d heard today? Either way, it wasn¡¯t anything to lose my head over.


    ¡°So sorry for making you wait so long,¡± Dani said, smiling down at me.


    ¡°It¡¯s totally fine,¡± I said, smiling right back. ¡°You said you have something ready for me to try on?¡±


    ¡°Indeed!¡± Dani beamed, putting a hand on my shoulder. ¡°If you''ll step into the back, we can see if I''ve got the fit right, and then if you like you could wear them out,¡± she said, guiding me towards the curtain that separated the front of the store from her work room.


    ¡°Wow, that was fast,¡± I said, impressed.


    ¡°Yeah, Dani is amazing,¡± Elle said from behind me. ¡°We''ll wait out here, but call us when you''re ready, I can''t wait to see!¡±


    Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that Elle and Mel had indeed hung back, and I spoke before I could stop myself.


    ¡°Oh, well, you can come too if you want,¡± I said, then froze as I realized what I''d just implied. That sounded way too eager, didn''t it? I felt my cheeks start to heat up and immediately tried to explain myself. ¡°A-ah, I mean! N-not that I want you to, I just meant it wouldn''t be weird if you did, b-because we''re girlfriends now! Not that I''m saying I don''t want you too either, I just¡ªNyaach!¡±


    I cut myself off with a startled, cat-like yelp as Dani¡¯s hand came down on my shoulder again.


    ¡°Slow down and breathe, dear.¡± Dani said with an amused smile, and I tried to do just that. After I''d taken several deep breaths, she patted my shoulder and nodded towards Elle and Mel. ¡°Now, are you comfortable with the girls accompanying us into the back?¡± Not trusting myself not to start rambling again, I just nodded. Dani turned and smiled at Elle and Mel. ¡°Would you two like to come back as well?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Elle said, immediately, then flinched back, holding up a hand. ¡°I-I-I mean¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don''t you start now,¡± Mel cut her off, throwing an arm around her shoulder and giving me a grin and a thumbs up. ¡°Sure, we''re right behind you.¡±


    ¡°Wonderful,¡± Dani said, turning back around and resuming her sauntering walk to the back room. ¡°Ah, to be young,¡± she said with a sigh, then giggled as she lifted the curtain, looking over my shoulder at the pair. ¡°I remember when I had to do the same thing for you two as well.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I asked as I stepped into the chaotically organized back room. Mel let out a groan behind me, while Elle snickered.


    ¡°Oh yes, there was a time when Mel could barely get up the nerve to ask Elle if she wanted to hold hands,¡± Dani said, sharing a conspiratorial grin with me.


    ¡°Really?¡± I asked again, glancing back at Mel, who seemed to have found something particularly interesting in the upper corner of Dani''s workshop. ¡°But you''re the literal picture of calm, cool, and collected.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, I wasn''t always,¡± Mel said, scrunching up one side of her face and shrugging. It was hard to tell due to the darker purple hue of her skin, but it looked like her cheeks might have been turning blue.


    ¡°It was soooo cute, I loved the way you used to only be able to talk to me while staring at your own feet,¡± Elle said, tilting her head to kiss Mel on the cheek, and, yup, her cheeks were definitely changing color.


    ¡°Oh, I thought you two came here together,¡± I said, chuckling a little. It was nice, getting to see yet another new side to Mel.


    ¡°Oh, we did,¡± Mel said, looking my way. ¡°But we weren''t together-together yet. It''s¡­ kind of a long story, but we''ll tell you sometime.¡±


    ¡°Ah, alright,¡± I said, hoping I hadn''t made them uncomfortable by touching on too private a subject too soon. Turning back to Dani so I couldn''t dwell on it, I smiled and tilted my head. ¡°So, uh, clothes?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, just step up onto the plinth, dear,¡± Dani said, motioning me to the small circular platform I''d stood on to get my measurements taken. I stepped up while she moved around to the various work tables, collecting several neatly folded bundles of dark colored cloth. ¡°Now, if you''ll undress please, and you two try to contain yourselves.¡±


    I glanced back over my shoulder again. Mel grinned and gave me another thumbs up, causing Elle to roll her eyes and poke an elbow into her side.


    Chuckling, I turned around and, after taking a deep, steadying breath, grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up. Folding it once over my arm, I set it on the corner of a nearby table, then worked on undoing the laces on my pants. I had just stepped out of them when I caught Mel''s voice on the edge of my hearing.


    ¡°Do you think she''d get mad if I whistled?¡± Mel asked in a whisper.


    ¡°Shh!¡± Elle hissed back, lowering her voice even further, but not nearly enough. ¡°She can probably hear you!¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Mel asked.


    ¡°I can,¡± I said, and could actually hear Mel¡¯s boots scrape as she jerked backwards slightly. I smirked and flicked an ear at them, then looked up as Dani returned.


    ¡°Ah, you''ll have to move your arms, dear,¡± Dani said, and I felt myself flush. I had instinctively crossed my arms over my chest, though I wasn''t sure if it was to stop her from seeing, or stop me.


    ¡°S-sorry,¡± I muttered, but Dani just smiled, grabbing the first bundle on top of the small stack she''d brought.


    ¡°You''re fine, Sam. Now, stick your arms out please,¡± she said, holding up¡­ well, there was no other way to say it. It was a bra. More specifically, it looked like a sports bra. The only thing less surprising than how ordinary and modern it looked was how unsurprised I was. If even a day ago you had asked me what I was expecting from a fantasy world¡¯s undergarments, I would have described something that looked like it belonged in a museum, but I had way bigger stuff to freak out about now, like the fact that there were islands in the sky.


    Was I just focusing on those thoughts to distract myself from what Dani was doing around my chest? Absolutely.


    ¡°Aaaand¡­ there!¡± Dani announced, pulling something tight behind my back, and I felt my whole upper torso and shoulders shift ever so slightly, my posture suddenly feeling awkward and new. ¡°I bet that feels much better, huh?¡±


    I looked straight down, possibly for the first time in three days, and drew in a breath.


    Woah¡­


    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah, a lot better,¡± I said, a little disbelieving as I rolled my shoulders and craned my neck this way and that. I felt like I''d been carrying something around for several days and had finally gotten to set it down.


    ¡°Not too tight? You mentioned you wanted to be able to run, so I used one of the designs I sell to some of the guardswomen and hunters and refitted it to your size,¡± Dani said, suddenly leaning in quite close and poking around at my side, right below my armpit.


    ¡°Nya-ach!¡± I yelped again, jumping so far to the side I ended up balanced precariously on the edge of the platform, with my arms raised defensively. Dani drew back, startled at first, but eventually breaking out into a smile.


    ¡°Goodness, I didn''t know you were so ticklish,¡± Dani said, while I coughed and tried to reorient myself in the middle of the platform.


    ¡°Neither did I,¡± I heard Mel whisper. I shot a look back at her, but she was once again staring up into the ceiling.


    ¡°Y-you''re fine,¡± I said, nodding up at Dani. ¡°And, no, I feel like I could run for miles.¡±


    ¡°Excellent!¡± Dani said, clapping her hands once, then reaching for the next article of clothing from the stack and holding it up. It was the first of the shirts I''d ordered, a sleeveless top with a wide neckline, made of soft-looking black cotton. Rather than being pitch black, it had a subtle hint of lighter gray-blue undertone to it.


    ¡°Oooouh¡­¡± I gasped gently as Dani held the shirt out for me to stick my arms into, marveling at how much more comfortable the fabric was compared to the second-hand shirts I¡¯d been wearing. It was indeed as soft as it looked, and when I tugged it down to my waist, it fit perfectly. I once again twisted myself side to side and stretched my arms over my head, feeling the fit at the sides and around my shoulders, before I grinned up at Dani.


    ¡°It¡¯s awesome!¡± I declared, standing with my hands on my hips. ¡°I love it!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you did a great job, Dani!¡± Elle cheered from behind me.


    Dani grinned, bending down to inspect her work now that I was actually wearing it. ¡°Aw, thank you girls, but this is nothing, wait until you see the final piece.¡± Satisfied, Dani grabbed the last bundle and unfurled it, revealing the cargo shorts I¡¯d ordered, just as described. They were black, like the top, but made of the visibly thicker and sturdier blended fabric that Dani had shown me the day before. And, just as I¡¯d asked for, they had pockets for days, with two additional square shaped pouches sewn down the outside of each leg, with a little buttonable flap to cover their openings.


    The shorts were such a simple thing, but I still felt giddy as I stepped into them and pulled them up my legs. I found not just the expected button and laces in the front, but also a scoop-shaped cutout in the back, perfectly positioned to accommodate my tail, with an extra flap of fabric made to loop over the top and button on the other side. Felda had done a fine job modifying the pants I¡¯d bought, but having something that was custom made from the start to fit my tail felt so much better, and I spent several seconds just swishing it back and forth and testing out my new, much more comfortable range of motion.


    ¡°How long are you planning to stand there wiggling your butt?¡± Mel called out, reminding me of exactly where I was. I yelped, standing up straight and covering the seat of my pants with my hands while glaring back at Mel, who was once again doubled over with barely contained laughter.


    Dani, who did a much better job hiding her amusement, smiled expectantly when I turned back to her.


    ¡°Well, how do they feel?¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± I said, lightly jogging in place on top of the platform, then bending down to feel the fabric with my hands, tugging at the bottom hem of one leg and poking experimentally into the pockets. ¡°You were right, they¡¯re a little more stiff, but I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll break ¡®em in in no time. Honestly, they¡¯re perfect, exactly what I was hoping for, and whatever I¡¯m paying you for them is not enough.¡±


    ¡°Oh, stop,¡± Dani said, visibly preening and reaching down to pat the top of my head once. ¡°You are just too precious. And I must say, you cut quite a striking figure. Would you like to see for yourself?¡± She motioned to a tall standing mirror on wheels in one corner of the workshop, and I nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Thought so, you wait right here.¡±


    I remained perched on the platform, fidgeting slightly. I wanted to glance over at Elle and Mel to see what their reactions were, but also wanted to wait until I¡¯d gotten a look for myself. Dani wheeled the mirror over, keeping it sideways so I couldn¡¯t see anything in it until she¡¯d brought it closer, at which point she turned the mirror to face me, and I couldn¡¯t help but gasp.


    ¡°Wooooah¡­¡± I said, staring wide eyed and slack jawed at my own reflection. I¡¯d seen it before, obviously, and taken a few other looks at myself in the mirror since that very first time, but the difference between then and now was night and day. For one thing, between the bra and the much better-fitting shirt, it was now way more obvious that I was a girl, and for another thing¡­


    ¡°I look so cool!¡± I said, grinning now as I turned slightly to either side, then began to strike a few little poses, crossing my arms over my chest or behind my head, trying to take in every possible angle at once. Back on Earth, in addition to taking as few looks in the mirror as possible, I had also never put much thought into my choice of clothes, caring only if they were comfortable and fit right, not sparing a thought for whether I thought they looked good on me. Only now was I realizing that was because I didn''t think anything looked good on me. Fashion, like hair, had felt cut off from me, relegated to the realm of ¡°stuff for girls,¡± but now I knew better, and I felt like I could finally start appreciating everything I¡¯d been missing out on for all those years.


    And all it took was being magically transformed into a weird half-cat half-girl thing in a fantastical fantasy world.


    Like aftershocks of an earthquake, I was struck by just how many of my problems seemingly stemmed from one single glaring issue. Ordinarily I would have felt nervous wearing something so distinctive, something that drew the eye way more than the plain and serviceable work clothes I''d come into Dani''s shop wearing, but now, I think I was actually kind of excited to be seen in them, to stand out in a crowd instead of fading into the background.


    The realization of exactly how much time I¡¯d spent feeling uncomfortable and confused and out of place was just starting to sink in when Elle and Mel appeared to either side of me in the mirror, each looking concerned in their own way.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Mel said softly, meeting my eyes in the mirror instead of looking at me directly. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Am I that obvious?¡± I asked with a slightly bitter chuckle, turning my head and looking away from our reflections. ¡°I was just¡­ thinking about things, y¡¯know, ¡®back home.¡¯ Kind of realizing that I¡­ wasted a lot of time on feeling¡­ not so good about myself, and now that I know why, I can¡¯t help but feel a little angry too.¡±


    ¡°Mmmh¡­¡± Mel hummed, nodding as she listened. She raised one of her hands, holding it in my line of sight and asked, ¡°Can I?¡± I responded by simply nodding, and she moved her hand to the top of my head. Meanwhile, the back of one of Elle¡¯s hands brushed against one of mine, hesitantly, and when I didn¡¯t pull it away, she once again slipped her fingers in between my own and clasped my hand, gently but firmly.


    ¡°Let me give you three some space,¡± Dani said quietly, already halfway to the curtain that led back to the front of her shop. I couldn¡¯t help but smile as she disappeared, then leaned slightly into Mel while she lightly scratched at my scalp. A few moments passed in peaceful silence, broken only by my own purring.


    ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s completely understandable, you feeling that way,¡± Mel finally said. ¡°We still don¡¯t have the full picture, but, it really sounds like you weren¡¯t having a very okay time back in your world.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I said, sighing and closing my eyes. ¡°Until a few hours ago I wouldn¡¯t have said it was all that bad, but now¡­¡± I paused, swallowing nervously. It felt so wrong, I hadn¡¯t even wanted to think about it, but there was something I felt I needed to say, just to get it out there. ¡°Now, I¡¯m starting to feel like maybe I¡­ don¡¯t want to go home? Is that crazy? Like, shouldn¡¯t I not just be sitting around here, eating fish and making friends and stuff like that when I could be, I don¡¯t know, frantically searching for a way back to my own world?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not crazy at all,¡± Elle said firmly, giving my hand a squeeze. I lifted my head from Mel¡¯s shoulder to look at her, and her expression was the most serious I¡¯d ever seen. ¡°Of course you wouldn¡¯t want to go back to a place where you weren¡¯t happy!¡±


    ¡°I know, but¡­ it¡¯s not like I was constantly miserable,¡± I said, squeezing Elle¡¯s hand back. ¡°I still had my brothers, and my friends, mostly Morgan, but she was going off to college, and I¡­ screwed up my own chance to follow her. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m ready to say it was a good thing that I came here, but¡­ I can say that right here, right now, I am happy¡­¡±


    I trailed off, momentarily marveling at the fact that I could be happy given my situation. Was it selfish of me to be so quick to condemn my entire life on Earth? To not spend every waking moment agonizing over if or when I''d ever go back? I didn''t know, and, frankly, I didn''t really care at the moment.


    ¡°And hey,¡± I said, shaking off those thoughts before they could congeal into dark clouds, smiling up at Elle and Mel in turn. ¡°I got to meet you two.¡±


    ¡°Aw!¡± Elle gasped, and before I knew it I was being crushed into another hug. ¡°Sammie, that''s the sweetest thing I''ve ever heard!¡±


    Mel chuckled, using the hand on top of my head to gently muss up my hair before adding herself to the group hug. ¡°I''ll say,¡± she said, smirking down at me. ¡°Sweeter than a maple tree.¡±


    I let out a squeak and squirmed until I could free my arms from my sides and wrap one each around each of them, my whole face feeling like it was on fire.


    ¡°S-shut up, it wasn''t that sweet!¡± I huffed, pressing my cheek against Elle¡¯s arm. She and Mel shared a playful chuckle while I pretended to fume for a few more seconds, but I could only hold out for so long before I was grinning and laughing along with them.


    ¡°Well, whatever you choose to do with your life here is entirely up to you, and we¡¯ll support you in any way we can,¡± Mel said after we¡¯d collected ourselves and broke from the impromptu huddle. ¡°That said, we should probably quit hogging Dani¡¯s back room.¡±


    ¡°A-ah, right, good idea,¡± I said, nodding. I turned to take one last look at myself in the mirror again, seeing myself as I now was; short and, I was willing to admit, cute, cat-eared and cat-tailed, and surrounded by people who¡­ loved me? Or, if it was too soon for that, people who just really really liked me a lot!


    ¡°You really do look great,¡± Mel remarked, meeting my eyes in the mirror again and smiling.


    ¡°Yeah, you look so dashing, Sammie!¡± Elle added, putting both hands on my shoulders. ¡°You look like you mean business.¡±


    I was grinning like a fool and walking on air as we headed for the curtain covered doorway.


    ¡°Heh, yeah, I''d like to see Bentley and his goons try and run their mouths with me now,¡± I said as I pushed back the curtain. Dani turned and glanced back at my entrance, as did the customer she had at the counter.


    Ah. It was Bentley, sans goons.


    ¡°Fuck¡­¡± I hissed under my breath.


    ¡°All finished?¡± Dani asked without skipping a beat.


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± I said, not taking my eyes off Bentley. ¡°He hasn''t said anything shitty yet, has he?¡±


    ¡°Who, Lord Bentley? Never, he''s been a perfect gentleman, as always,¡± Dani said with an amused chuckle.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°You seem to have formed a misapprehension that I am some sort of foul-mouthed barbarian, with a personal mission to offend everyone I meet,¡± Bentley said dryly, half-scowling at me over the countertop.


    ¡°Yeah, I wonder where I could''ve gotten that idea,¡± I shot back, moving to get out from behind the counter.


    ¡°Listen, you wretch, I¡ª¡± Bentley started to reply, but halted when I stepped fully into view. Short as I was, he must not have been able to see more than my head and the tops of my shoulders, but now he was visibly taken aback by my new outfit, and I couldn''t help but grin smugly.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, recollecting himself and sniffing dismissively. ¡°I see you''ve finally acquired some clothing that fits you properly, well done. You''re much less likely to be mistaken for a small boy now, though no less likely to be mistaken for a thief, dressing like that.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, choosing to take that as a compliment. Much to Bentley''s consternation, if the tightening of his expression and redding of his cheeks was any indication.


    ¡°If you''re quite done,¡± Bentley said through clenched teeth  forcibly averting his eyes. ¡°I would like to return to my business sometime today.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, we were just leaving,¡± I said,  turning to Dani and quickly dulling the edge on my voice. ¡°I really can''t tell you how much I love these,¡± I said, smiling and tugging lightly on my shirt. ¡°I''ll get right back to fishing first thing tomorrow morning, and I''ll start paying you the rest of what I owe as soon as I can.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don''t you even fret over it,¡± Dani said with a cheerful smile and a shake of her head. ¡°You pay me back at whatever pace is comfortable for you, and don''t hesitate to stop by just for a visit.¡±


    ¡°So, you have been practicing, hmm?¡± Bentley said, looking sidelong at me as I passed. ¡°I wondered why I hadn''t seen you out on the bay, but I suppose a beginner like you wouldn''t have met the requirements to fish the open waters yet.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I''ll be out there soon enough, just you wait and see!¡± I shouted back through cupped hands, walking backwards towards the door with Elle and Mel tailing me, the former looking like she was struggling to maintain a straight face while the latter was practically beaming. Once we were out on the street, Mel broke out into full on laughter, and continued as we walked away.


    ¡°That was so nerve-wracking,¡± Elle said, pressing a hand to her forehead and looking over at me. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know how you can stand to antagonize him like that, Sammie. Even if he can be a bit of a¡­¡± Elle glanced back over her shoulder, then to either side of the street before continuing, ¡°a thorny prick, he¡¯s still the mayor¡¯s son.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I wouldn¡¯t worry, it''s not like he¡¯ll risk doing anything to her before the festival,¡± Mel said, and at my and Elle¡¯s confused looks, she held up a hand. ¡°Think about it, if he tries to force the town guards to hassle her or, tides forbid, tries to get her thrown out of town early, then it''ll look like he was scared that she was going to beat him and interfered. He cares way too much about his reputation to let that happen.¡±


    ¡°Oooh¡­¡± Elle said, raising her eyebrows. ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought of that.¡±


    ¡°Well, he should be scared! I can¡¯t wait to beat his ass in that competition!¡± I said, smacking a fist into my palm and then immediately wincing as I nearly punctured my other palm with my own claws. I still hadn''t gotten used to the fact that my claws didn¡¯t retract far enough to allow me to make an actual fist.


    ¡°Okay, easy there, tiger!¡± Mel said, chuckling and patting the top of my head. ¡°First of all, it¡¯s a fishing competition, not a tourney duel, so no asses are getting beat. Second of all¡­ well, you''re confident you''re going to be able to win, right?¡±


    ¡°I mean, I haven''t really had time to worry about that, with all the other stuff I''ve been worrying about,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°It''s not so much that I think I''m going to win, it''s that I have to win. When I made the bet and proposed that outcome, I thought Bentley was kind of an idiot for accepting it, because I told myself at the time that I would be just fine up and leaving this place at any time. But, well, look how wrong I turned out to be.¡± I smiled up at both of them, and Elle suppressed a little squeal. I reached out and took her hand in mine, surprised at how easily I''d gotten used to the motion, and the feelings it caused. Then, since I was walking between them now, I reached over and snagged Mel''s hand as well, putting on my fiercest, most determined grin.


    ¡°So, yeah, for you two, and Felda and Bart too, I have to win, and I''m gonna do everything I can to make sure I do!¡±


    My stomach chose that exact moment to let out an audible groan, reminding me that a shared platter of meats, cheese, fruit, and fish, while delicious, was not enough to satisfy me for long.


    Elle giggled, squeezing my hand and tugging gently. ¡°Here, how about we head to Baker¡¯s Row next? I did promise to treat you to something, if I remember correctly.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I was just joking around last night, you don''t have to,¡± I said hastily.


    ¡°No, but I want to,¡± Elle countered and, well, I wasn''t going to try that hard to dissuade her from spoiling me if she really wanted to.


    ¡°You two go on ahead, I''m going to make another stop real quick,¡± Mel said, and I released her hand. She moved closer, once again giving me a swift peck on the forehead and Elle a quick kiss. ¡°Order me my favorite, would you?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Elle said, giggling and waving as Mel headed off, then resuming our trek to Baker¡¯s Row. I continued to watch Mel¡¯s departure until she disappeared around a corner.


    ¡°I''m still kind of struggling to wrap my head around the idea that I''m actually going out with both of you at the same time,¡± I said, facing forward and looking up at Elle again.


    ¡°It can be hard to grasp if you¡¯re from a culture that only has pair bonding, and it sounds like that¡¯s exactly where you¡¯re starting from,¡± Elle said, gently swinging our clasped hands as she walked. ¡°Let me just get this out of the way first: you don''t need to worry about splitting your time perfectly equally with both of us.¡±


    ¡°A-ah, right, I guess that would be a hassle to try and manage,¡± I said, chuckling self-consciously. That had been the exact first thing that popped into my mind now that I was alone with Elle.


    ¡°Mmhm!¡± Elle said with a cheerful nod. ¡°Contrary to what you might think, Mel and I aren''t always together, and we''ve both got interests and hobbies of our own, some that we both enjoy and some that only one of us does, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯re the same way. I don''t want you thinking you should feel guilty if you do end up spending more time with one of us than the other, or if you¡¯re ever so busy you can''t find much time to be with either of us, okay?¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, letting out a little sigh. ¡°That is actually a load off my mind. Like I said, I never got a chance to even have a relationship, uh, back home, and you two seem like you''ve got yours pretty well figured out, so I kinda feel a little like an amateur trying to compete with the pros.¡±


    At that, Elle let out a snort that turned into a fit of giggles, shaking her head. ¡°W-what? Oh, Sammie, trust me, we¡¯re hardly that much more experienced than you, we¡¯ve just grown up around this stuff. There are some orchards back on Belanore so big they would make your head spin!¡±


    ¡°Woah¡­¡± I said, trying to picture what exactly she meant by that. Was an orchard of, say, ten people considered ¡°large,¡± or was that reserved for groups in the dozens? My head was already spinning trying to imagine a relationship that large, but thankfully we reached our next destination before I got too dizzy.


    ¡°Aaaaand we¡¯re here!¡± Elle announced as she stepped around the corner and into a more narrow street, wide enough for the small crowd of well dressed people I could see coming and going in both directions, but too narrow for carts. Her outburst had drawn a few glances our way, some of which turned into lingering stares, likely my fault, but for once that realization didn¡¯t make me feel like running or hiding. I even met a few of them head on with a grin of my own, flashing my fangs and flicking my ears as I followed Elle deeper into the street.


    Looking up towards the building we were approaching, I found a quaint little two-story red-brick structure, out of which the most tantalizing scents of baked goods were wafting. The wooden sign hanging above the door was much more elaborately carved, with swirling patterns etched around the outer edges, and the name written out on it was done up in overly fancy cursive.


    ¡°¡®Sandria¡¯s?¡¯¡± I read aloud, starting to regain some of my second thoughts about letting Elle treat me here. We were even deeper into the more upper scale seeming area of the village now. ¡°So, this is ¡®Baker¡¯s Row?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Mmhm!¡± Elle said, taking a deep breath of the scent of baked bread and pastries. ¡°It¡¯s really just a nickname, but three of the most popular bakeries in town are right here,¡± she continued, turning and pointing further down the street. ¡°Sandria¡¯s, The Golden Crown, and The Flour Garden.¡±


    I saw the two other bakeries as she named them; the former with its wood and stone exterior painted in shades of blue and white and gold with a little sectioned off outdoor seating area, and the latter across from it being all wood, short and wide with broad square front windows that opened outwards onto a small but expertly manicured garden, enclosed by a tiny little white fence. Like most of the other businesses I could see on this street, they looked more like restaurants than purely bakeries, and I felt my stomach rumble again.


    ¡°Wow¡­¡± I said, turning back to Elle. ¡°But, why this place? Aren''t there also a bunch of bakeries in front of Felda¡¯s tavern too?¡±


    ¡°Oh, well, yes,¡± Elle said, reaching out and pulling the door open, holding it for me then stepping in behind me. ¡°But¡­ uh, let¡¯s sit down first,¡± she said, and took my hand again. I looked around as we moved through the bakery, and the difference between it and Bonnie¡¯s was stark and unmistakable. The walls were a cheerful cherry red color with a row of white trim running along at waist height, and the floors looked like tile, white and black in a checkerboard pattern. The tables, more than a dozen of them, were made of pale, polished wood and covered by cream-colored tablecloths, and the matching chairs had padded seats. Elle led us to an open table and I settled into one, feeling a little dizzy all over again.


    ¡°Phew,¡± Elle sighed as she sat adjacent to me. ¡°That¡¯s better¡­ So, yes, there are a few more bakeries down by Felda¡¯s place, but they¡¯re right up against the docks, and, well, you might have noticed that¡±¡ªshe paused suddenly and glanced around surreptitiously, then lowered her voice¡ª¡°some people have the impression that just being near the docks makes something worse, makes it low-class.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said, scrunching my face in distaste. ¡°Right, that¡¯s what Bentley and his goons were complaining about the night before too, blegh. Well, they clearly don¡¯t know what they¡¯re talking about, Bonnie¡¯s place is great and Felda''s cooking is amazing.¡±


    Elle nodded in understanding at my little rant, then turned as a woman approached our table. She was wearing what was clearly a uniform; a short cut red and white check-patterned dress with a matching cap, white tights and shiny red slippers that clicked slightly on the tiled floor. Even her hair was red.


    ¡°Good afternoon!¡± she chirped, setting down the pitcher of lemonade she had in one hand, smiling at Elle. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you again, Elle, and who¡¯s¡ªoh!¡± She jumped as she tried to turn her smile on me, a look of surprise overtaking her face. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re the catgirl, hi! I¡¯ve been hearing about you for days, it¡¯s nice to finally meet you! I¡¯m Sarah.¡±


    ¡°Uh, Sam,¡± I said, giving her a little nod. Her announcement drew every eye that wasn¡¯t already looking our way, several conversations starting up at once that I pointedly swiveled my ears away from.


    ¡°Well, Elle¡¯s been here before, but you¡¯re new, so here¡¯s the menu for you,¡± Sarah said, managing to compose herself and holding out the folded rectangle of stiff paper she had under her other arm. It was a menu alright, hand written and with the same extra level of detail added to it as the sign outside, with elaborate swirly text and a little flourishing border running along the outside of the page. This place really spared no expense.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ not really in the mood for something sweet,¡± I muttered, moving past the section of sweet cakes and fruit pies, my interest (and hunger) piqued by a section listed as ¡°savory.¡± There were meat pies and savory buns, among other things, but one thing ultimately caught my eye and I couldn¡¯t help but blurt out in surprise, ¡°Salmon bagel?!¡±


    ¡°Oouh, yeah, I bet you¡¯d love that one,¡± Sarah said with a smile, leaning over and pointing to the description. ¡°It¡¯s a halved bagel with cream cheese and strips of smoked salmon. It¡¯s not the most popular, but I think it¡¯s great.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± I said, nodding and passing the menu back.


    ¡°And I¡¯ll have a slice of the strawberry cake, and two ham and cheese croissants for Mel when she shows up,¡± Elle added.


    ¡°Coming right up,¡± Sarah said, smiling wider and doing a little bow before turning and sauntering back to the display counter against the back wall, and into the kitchen beyond, where I could see her speaking to two figures in crisp all-white uniforms.


    ¡°A bagel with salmon and cream cheese, huh?¡± I mumbled absently, just thinking aloud. It really did seem like this world was never going to run out of things for me to be surprised by the existence of, but when I thought about it, how old was the concept of a bagel anyway? And I had no clue how cream cheese was even made, but I really had no reason anymore to doubt that someone in this world had figured it out a long while ago.


    Or, I realized, someone from Earth who did know could¡¯ve brought that knowledge with them. That thought caused a tiny shudder to run down my spine. The idea that other people from my world had been here in the past was both fascinating and a little frightening, just because there was no telling what kind of influence they might have had.


    ¡°Is something wrong, Sammie?¡±


    Elle¡¯s voice snapped me back to the present, and I blinked a few times, turning to find her looking at me, concern evident on her face.


    ¡°Uh¡­ no,¡± I said, and Elle¡¯s brow furrowed even further.


    ¡°Your tail is thrashing,¡± she pointed out, and I looked back over my shoulder. Sure enough, my tail had risen into the air behind me and was swishing side to side like an agitated furry snake.


    ¡°Eh, s-sorry,¡± I said, sighing and reaching back to pull my tail around into my lap, petting it lengthwise to make the fur lay flat again. ¡°It really is nothing, though, I was just thinking about, uh¡­ other visitors from where I¡¯m from.¡±


    ¡°Oooh,¡± Elle said, nodding and visibly relaxing. ¡°I suppose I can¡¯t blame you for having a lot to think about.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but, I can¡¯t really do anything with those thoughts right here, right now, can I?¡± I said, lifting my tail and inspecting it, flicking the tip back and forth a few times. ¡°So, no point in getting all worked up about it, right?¡±


    ¡°Right!¡± Elle agreed.


    ¡°Though, something I can worry about right now is having to talk about this stuff in public,¡± I said, leaning forward and resting my chin in my hand, keeping my voice low. ¡°It¡¯d be pretty useful if I could figure out how to speak Elvish.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure that must be possible,¡± Elle said, scooting her chair closer to mine so she could match my tone. ¡°You don¡¯t know the language you¡¯re speaking right now, and it¡¯s supposed to be a blessing to speak all tongues, so maybe you just need to¡­ try speaking Elvish?¡±


    Huh. There was no way it was that simple right? And how did one even ¡°try¡± switching languages when they had a magic translation spell they weren¡¯t even aware of until a few hours ago?


    Ach, no, don¡¯t overthink it! I shook my head, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I brought my hands up to the sides of my head, pressing my fingers to my temples and gently massaging them in circles, trying to actively perceive what was happening while I spoke.


    ¡°Eeelvish¡­ speak¡­ Elvish¡­¡± I muttered under my breath, ignoring a snicker from Elle and trying to feel the way my mouth and throat moved. ¡°Eeeelf¡­ elf elf elf elf¡­¡± There, there was definitely a disconnect between the way my brain told me my lips were moving and the way I felt them move, but it was difficult to focus on, like lying in bed trying to recall the details of a dream while they only got more and more hazy. I took another deep breath, and tried to relax, but the sensation was already completely faded.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is wo¡ª¡± The very instant I opened my eyes and looked at Elle, I felt something go ¡°ka-thunk!¡± inside my brain, and felt my throat clench while I was still mid-sentence, ¡°¡ªorking¡­ huh?¡±


    ¡°Oh, wow!¡± Elle said, her eyes wide. She sounded¡­ different, and the same, and I could somehow tell that she wasn¡¯t speaking what I considered normal anymore, until suddenly she was. ¡°You did it!¡±


    ¡°I did?¡± I asked. In the very very back of my mind, I could feel for a single moment the differences in the way I was forming the words I was saying, but quickly lost the ability to perceive it. It just felt like I was talking normally, as I always did.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re speaking Elvish right now,¡± Elle said, tilting her head slightly. ¡°Your accent is a little strange, but you¡¯re definitely speaking Mainland Elvish.¡±


    ¡°Wooooah¡­¡± I said, rubbing the side of my head again. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it¡­ it really was that easy.¡±


    ¡°Hehe, this is so exciting,¡± Elle giggled, smiling and pressing her hands together. ¡°Oh, oh, you¡¯ve got to show Felda when we get back, she¡¯ll be so surprised!¡±


    ¡°Huh, yeah, I bet she will,¡± I said, blinking. I hadn¡¯t thought of that yet, that I was going to have to tell Felda that me and Elle and Mel were¡­ involved now. I didn¡¯t really have any reason to worry how she¡¯d take it, did I?


    Just then, Sarah returned to our table, carrying three small plates with her, two in her hands and one balanced on her forearm.


    ¡°Sorry for the wait,¡± she said, distributing the dishes between the two of us. She set down a plate with a large triangular wedge of white cake with pink frosting and large slices of strawberries in front of Elle, then a second one with two plump, fluffy, flakey croissants that I could see had been stuffed from the inside with a vibrant orange cheese and bits of ham.


    Finally, she set the last plate down before me, and I felt my eyes widen and my ears stand straight up. It was a bagel alright, split into halves, both sides smeared with pearly-white cream cheese and overlapping strips of what I immediately recognized as more smoked salmon. I could tell from one sniff that it wasn¡¯t the same stuff that Elle had served, but that was fine, since that was supposed to be some kind of delicacy. While I was fine with Elle¡¯s offer to treat me today, I definitely didn¡¯t want her going overboard.


    ¡°It looks fantastic, thank you,¡± I said, grinning up at Sarah, who stared back in vague confusion.


    ¡°O-oh, uh, y-you¡¯re welcome?¡± she replied hesitantly, chuckling nervously. ¡°Sorry, my Elvish is terrible.¡±


    Ah, that was right, I was still speaking Elvish. Now, how the heck was I supposed to swi¡ª


    ¡°Ah,¡± I gasped in surprise, feeling the same mental ¡°thunk¡± a second time as soon as I thought about returning to speaking in Common. ¡°Uh, I mean, that¡¯s fine, I was just¡­ showing off for Elle?¡±


    Elle giggled into her hand and nodded, giving me a sly wink. ¡°And Elle is very impressed.¡±


    ¡°Aww, that¡¯s adorable!¡± Sarah said, sharing a laugh before doing her little bow again. ¡°Well, you two enjoy, and let me know if you need anything else.¡±


    I smiled and waved until Sarah was occupied with another table, then sighed, slumping forward in my seat.


    ¡°That was close, but it answers that question,¡± I said, turning back to Elle. Now that I knew what to feel for, it took a half a second¡¯s thought to switch to Elvish again. ¡°I can switch back and forth pretty easily, actually.¡±


    ¡°Well, it is a blessing after all,¡± Elle said, picking up her fork. ¡°In fact, maybe we should visit the temple after this.¡±


    ¡°The¡­ temple?¡± I asked, pausing with a bagel halfway to my mouth.


    ¡°Uh huh, the temple of the gods,¡± Elle said, slicing off a bit of her cake with the edge of the fork. ¡°Even if we¡¯re not totally sure if they¡¯re the reason you¡¯re here, it couldn¡¯t hurt for you to try to reach out to some of them.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ guess it couldn¡¯t hurt, yeah,¡± I hesitantly agreed, while Elle popped the bite of cake into her mouth, closing her eyes and groaning with delight.


    Then again, if the gods of this world were real and active participants in what happened in it, it actually could hurt if I messed up. I didn¡¯t feel like getting smited by a lighting bolt or something. Smote? Smitten? Whatever.


    I shrugged off my worries about vengeful gods and took a bite of my bagel. It tasted as good as it looked; the bagel itself was fresh, the crust on the underside crackling while the inside was soft and tender, the cream cheese was much more tangy than what I was used to on Earth, and the star of the show, the smoked salmon, was once again salty and buttery and had me swaying in my chair and purring as I chewed.


    I was so caught up in my reverie that I didn¡¯t notice that Mel had entered the bakery and made her way over to our table until I felt her hand on my scalp. I jumped in my seat and yelped, covering my mouth since it was still full, and tilted my head to glare up at her.


    ¡°Miss me?¡± she asked, and I let out a huff through my nose before nodding, earning a bright grin in return. ¡°Me too,¡± Mel said, giving my ear one more scratch before dropping into her own seat.


    ¡°So, what¡¯d I miss?¡± Mel asked, picking up one of her croissants between two fingers. I grinned, sensing an opportunity to immediately get her back. I swallowed down my mouthful of bagel and switched over to Elvish again.


    I waited until just after Mel took her first bite to open my mouth and say, ¡°Not much.¡±


    ¡°What the¡ª?¡± Mel blurted out, though it wound up sounding more like ¡°Whaff fuh?¡± She grunted and coughed, covering her mouth and furiously chewing, Elle passing her a glass of lemonade while snickering. She took a deep pull to clear her throat, then sat forward in her chair, staring intently at me.


    ¡°You can speak Elvish now?¡± Mel asked, grinning along with me now.


    ¡°I figured it out,¡± I said, shrugging casually.


    ¡°Good job!¡± Mel said, laughing and leaning back in her chair. ¡°That¡¯s amazing, but it¡¯s also definitely going to confuse people about where you¡¯re from even more.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I asked, taking another, smaller bite from my bagel and trying to subtly peek around the room. There were definitely still people taking occasional glances in our direction, long after the novelty should have worn off. Turning back around, I smirked. ¡°Good.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, you¡¯re going to be such bad influences on each other,¡± Elle said, shaking her head with a rueful smile, that turned into a genuine one as she speared another bite of her cake, this time holding it up towards me. ¡°Sammie, do you want to try some?¡±


    ¡°Mmhm!¡± I nodded, leaning forward and opening my mouth. Elle beamed and deposited the forkful of cake onto my tongue, and I sat back to savor it. It was delicious. Elle had made sure to give me a bite that had plenty of frosting as well as one of the thick slices of strawberry, and all together it was one of the sweetest things I¡¯d tasted since coming here.


    For several minutes, we just sat and enjoyed our individual treats. I got to try a bite of one of Mel¡¯s croissants, finding the taste similar to an extra buttery, extra cheesy grilled cheese, and offered some of my bagel to both of them in turn.


    Once there was less of a chance of someone getting interrupted with their mouth full, I turned to Mel and asked, ¡°So, what¡¯d you need to go do?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, I wanted to stop by the bookstore,¡± Mel said, reaching behind her into her black leather satchel, which she¡¯d slung over the back of her chair. ¡°Here, got this for you.¡± She handed me a book, tall and thin with a sturdy red binding and an elaborate illustration of a crest on the front cover, consisting of a compass, a telescope, and one of those little triangle shaped tools for drawing circles that I could never remember the name of.


    Annotated Traveller¡¯s Guide to the Major Islands, Encompassing the Known World of Oceanus, By Captain Archibald Einhardt; Third Edition, the cover read.


    ¡°...huh, okay,¡± I said, after spending a moment just taking all of that in. Curious, I opened the front cover to take a peek inside. The first page was taken up almost entirely by a large illustration of a circular map, overlaid with a grid.


    ¡°Oh, is this a map of the world?¡± I asked excitedly, sitting up in my chair and placing the book down in front of me.


    ¡°Just the major islands,¡± Mel said. I didn''t really understand what she meant by that, but assumed it would become clear as I looked over the book. However, as I leaned in and began to peer closer at the map, things only became more confusing.


    There appeared to be only eight islands, most of them a fairly large distance from each other. I located Torgard first, on the western side of the map, then Eurig, the place Nils had told me about, up in the north, and an island labeled Belanore to the south. I remembered Elle mentioning that name in passing earlier, but there were many more names I didn''t recognize; next to Belanore was one called Sotek, then far to the east, almost directly opposite from Torgard, was an island named Fulgar. Slightly above that was what looked like a pair of islands, but with only one name given to them: Yuusha. Just off-center of the very middle of the map, there was one named Karkinos, and I thought that was it, but I noticed one last island, tucked into the far bottom-left corner of the map, with the name Kurma.


    The names weren''t the confusing part though.


    ¡°Uh, why are all these islands drawn like animals?¡± I asked, tapping the illustration of Torgard. Instead of some vaguely lumpy landmass, like you¡¯d expect an island to look on a map, it was clearly drawn to resemble a sea turtle, oval shaped with a head and four long flippers for legs. And it wasn''t the only one that was like that; Fulgar looked like some kind of snake thing, curved into a crescent shape, Eurig was definitely a snail, and Belanore resembled a frog.


    Elle and Mel stared back at me blankly, then exchanged glances, and I realized I¡¯d asked another one of those questions, a question that nobody born in this world would ever ask and would give me away to anyone who didn¡¯t already know my situation. I was glad that I¡¯d remembered to stick to speaking Elvish.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I sighed, motioning to the pair. ¡°Whatever it is, give it to me, I¡¯ll try not to freak out. It can¡¯t be weirder than floating islands up in the sky.¡±


    ¡°Heh,¡± Mel chuckled, shaking her head. ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s just a really weird question to hear, you¡¯d never expect someone to ask that¡­ anyway, they¡¯re drawn like that because that¡¯s what they are.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what¡­ they are?¡± I repeated, slowly, and Mel nodded. I flicked my eyes down to the map, then back up to Mel. There was no way¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re not¡­ seriously telling me that¡­ Torgard, the island we¡¯re on right now is¡­ is a turtle?¡± I asked, leaning forward and tapping the picture again.


    ¡°Yes we are,¡± Mel said, also leaning forward, propping her chin up on one hand, smirking at me. ¡°You sound kind of like you¡¯re freaking out.¡±


    I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, grumbling to myself.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, sighing and opening my eyes again. ¡°Every time I think I¡¯ve heard the most ridiculous thing this world has to offer¡­ so, what, it¡¯s a literal, actual, gigantic turtle with an island on its back?¡± Elle nodded, still looking completely perplexed, and I rubbed the side of my head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense though, what does it eat? Wouldn¡¯t something that big have to eat, I don¡¯t know, a million tons of food every day?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to eat at all,¡± Mel said, with maddening calm. ¡°It¡¯s an island, and one of the great leviathans besides.¡± It was my turn to give her a blank stare, and she nodded. ¡°Yeah, guess I shoulda seen that coming, here.¡± She sat up and scooted her chair around the edge of the table until she was seated next to me, and leaned over the book. ¡°So, all the major islands, these eight here, are the eight great leviathans; ancient, gigantic, immortal creatures. They don¡¯t need to eat because they¡¯ve been blessed by the gods themselves to live forever and provide life and sanctuary to the mortal races. That¡¯s us, in case it wasn¡¯t clear.¡± I rolled my eyes theatrically and Mel chuckled, continuing, ¡°So, unlike other islands that have to absorb vast amounts of raw mana directly from the ocean to do the same thing, the eight leviathans are completely self-sustaining, which is what makes living on their backs possible. All the fertile soil and everything that grows in it, the fresh water and the fish you¡¯ve been catching, and the food we just ate, everything around you; it¡¯s because of the mana that Torgard provides making the surface of its back livable. It¡¯s the same for every island in the world, big or small, but only the eight can do it without completely draining the sea around them of mana, and that¡¯s why they¡¯re so important.¡±


    I sat quietly and listened while Mel explained. As she did, I started to calm down again, and the full gravity of what she was telling me started to actually sink in. Every island in this world was built up from the back of an unfathomably massive living creature, powered either by magic from the ocean, or just literal thin air?


    ¡°So, there¡¯s no normal islands here?¡± I asked, and Mel chuckled, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°These are normal islands,¡± she said, and before I could roll my eyes, she asked, ¡°but what do you mean by ¡®a normal island?¡¯¡±


    ¡°I mean not growing out of the back of a giant fish or something,¡± I said, holding up a hand. ¡°Like, where it¡¯s just solid land, you know? On Earth, every island, every continent, everywhere anything lives, it¡¯s all just¡­ earth¡­¡± Huh. When you thought about it that way, our planet''s name was kind of stupidly obvious. And wrong, since there was more water on it than earth. That was one thing for this new world, Oceanus seemed like a perfectly fitting name. Shaking my head, I continued. ¡°It''s just dirt and rocks, and if you dig downward you just hit more dirt and rocks, because the world is just a big ball of rock with water covering it.¡±


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Elle gasped at my other side, making me jump. She¡¯d also moved her chair closer to mine, and unlike before where she was looking confused, now her eyes were practically twinkling with curiosity. ¡°I see what you mean now, yes! Well, to answer your question, no, there¡¯s no ¡®solid land¡¯ that¡¯s habitable above the ocean. The most you¡¯ll see are scattered rock formations, but none of them are capable of supporting anything but the smallest amounts of life. Everything else, all the solid foundation that makes up our world, is deep under the ocean.¡±


    ¡°All of it?¡± I asked, my eyes widening. ¡°You mean¡­ like, your whole world is flooded?¡±


    ¡°That is the prevailing theory, yes!¡± Elle said excitedly, grabbing one of my hands. ¡°Scholars have debated for centuries about how our world as we know it came to be, and the temples haven¡¯t been able to provide an answer either, but most sources agree that there had to have been some sort of cataclysmic event at some point in prehistoric times that left the entire surface of the world submerged, due to the discovery of ruins and artifacts found deep on the bottom of the ocean that don¡¯t match any currently living civilization.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit¡­¡± I muttered, reaching for my glass with a free hand. After taking a long, deep pull of the somehow still cool lemonade, I groaned and leaned back against my chair. ¡°I seriously underestimated just how weird this place was.¡±


    ¡°Hey, rude,¡± Mel said, snorting and placing her hand on my head. ¡°This is just how the world is for us, and who¡¯s to say your world isn¡¯t the weird one? Exactly how many worlds besides yours and this one have you been to?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ fair, I guess,¡± I said, sighing and tilting my head into her gentle scratching. I looked down at the book, still open, and flipped through a few of the pages. Beyond the large map at the front, the following pages were split into sections, each one covering one of the ¡°major islands,¡± with what looked like more in-depth breakdowns of the islands themselves; their history, culture, what sorts of people might be found there. I skimmed through, intending to save the more thorough reading for later, but I paused when I opened onto the section for the island named Fulgar, a single passage jumping out at me.


    ¡°Birthplace of the Fulminous Empire,¡± I read aloud, raising an eyebrow and glancing to either side. ¡°Is this the Empire everyone¡¯s always talking about?¡±


    ¡°Ugh, yeah, that''s them,¡± Mel said, scoffing and scowling like she¡¯d just bitten a lemon. ¡°It''s honestly a toss up between them and High Society on which one is worse. From the news that comes out of there, if you''re not a rich or powerful human then things can be pretty bad, but they can get even worse if you''re not human at all, and if you''re a demi-human, well¡­¡± Her eyes drifted over to me, softening with concern, and I nodded.


    ¡°Got it. I have heard some of this already, but it''s good to have a name and place to match with the warnings so I can be absolutely certain I don''t ever end up there.¡± I studied the up close, much more detailed illustration of Fulgar above the text for a few more moments before closing the book, tilting my head to smile at Mel. ¡°Well, thank you very much for this, I''ll try to sit down and study it over the next few days. Though now I''m definitely falling behind both of you in the gift-giving department.¡±


    ¡°It''s not a competition, Sammie,¡± Elle said with playful reproach, looping an arm around my shoulder. ¡°You''re just starting to spread your roots, and we understand there''s going to be more important things to spend your money on than us, so please don''t feel like you have to repay us for things like this.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± I said, giving an exaggerated sigh of resignation and leaning against Elle¡¯s side in return. I tried to take her words to heart, but a part of me still felt I needed to do something. Resolving to worry about that later, I just sat in silence with Elle and Mel for a few more moments, enjoying the ambient sounds of cooking and eating and chatting inside the bakery.


    Then, in what I was starting to suspect was some kind of plot, the door to the bakery opened, and Laurence and Roberto entered.


    ¡°Ah, shit,¡± I muttered, drawing Elle and Mel¡¯s attention to the pair. They appeared to be talking amongst themselves, but I was sure it was only a matter of time before they noticed us.


    ¡°Ah, about time we get going anyway,¡± Mel said, rising from her seat first. Elle and I followed, and we moved towards the counter as a group, but I kept one of my ears trained in Laurence and Roberto¡¯s direction, so I caught the exact moment they spotted us.


    ¡°Oh, gods.¡± Lawrence''s tweedy voice sounded first. ¡°She¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°Hnm?¡± A questioning grunt from Roberto followed. ¡°Ah, the cat.¡±


    ¡°What should we do? It''s one thing for her to be skulking around the docks, but this is our part of town!¡± Laurence said in an aggravated whisper, and I felt some of the fur on my tail start to stand on end. Oh, if they were thinking about starting trouble¡­


    ¡°Bentley said t¡¯leave her be,¡± Roberto said, sounding more bored than anything. ¡°Come on, move, I''m hungry.¡±


    ¡°Tsh,¡± Laurence hissed. ¡°I don''t see why, there¡¯s no way she''ll win the competition. She''s going to be expelled either way, what does it matter if it''s now or after the festival.¡±


    Before my blood had time to start boiling, Elle and Mel finished the quick conversation they''d started with Sarah while paying for the meal, and turned around to rejoin me. Whether or not they noticed my distress, (and, let''s be honest, they noticed) they didn¡¯t comment on it, and by the time we were nearing the door, I was completely calm again, and much less likely to do something that might cause a scene. Even though it did seem that Mel¡¯s assumption about Bentley wanting to preserve his image had been correct, I wasn¡¯t willing to press my luck just to provoke two obnoxious rich kids.


    But that didn¡¯t mean I was going to do nothing.


    ¡°Oh, hey, you two!¡± I called out as we passed by the window table the pair had taken, acting as though I''d only just noticed their presence. I made a show of examining the walls of the bakery around me and said, ¡°You were right, this place is pretty great. I should definitely come here more often! Well, seeya around!¡±


    I continued to the door, leading the bemused looking pair of elves behind me. Lawrence''s face had gone even paler as he gaped at me, but Roberto actually seemed amused by the exchange, grinning a lopsided grin at his friend''s expense. Well, he had spoken against bothering me here, so I didn''t want to say anything to rile him up too badly.


    ¡°Oh, Roberto, I met your dad earlier,¡± I said as I reached the door ahead of Elle and Mel and reached to pull it open. ¡°He says ¡®hi.¡¯¡±


    With that, I dashed out the door after Elle and Mel, then hustled them to the end of the street, juuuust in case.


    ¡°What was that about?¡± Mel asked after we''d gotten what I deemed an acceptable distance  away from the bakery.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I panted mildly after the short jog. I definitely needed to start working on that stamina problem, and I realized that now that I had, er, ¡°proper support¡±, I could finally start doing so. ¡°I just wanted to mess with them a little. I heard them talking shit when they noticed me.¡±


    ¡°Sammie,¡± Elle said, sounding only slightly reproachful.


    ¡°Aah,¡± Mel said, more understanding in her voice. Then, her brow furrowed. ¡°Wait, you heard them talking? I didn''t hear them say anything.¡±


    ¡°Well, they were whispering,¡± I said, shrugging one shoulder.


    Mel''s mouth opened slightly, then closed, then she asked, ¡°You could hear them whispering, clear across the bakery, while standing next to the kitchen and while Elle and I were talking right beside you?¡±


    ¡°Uh, I guess so? I didn''t even notice any of that other stuff, but I was pretty focused on them,¡± I said, squirming a little on my feet at the mixed looks of surprise on Elle and Mel''s faces. I cleared my throat. ¡°Yeah, my hearing is kinda¡­ crazy good.¡±


    ¡°I''ll say,¡± Mel said, finally breaking back into a grin. ¡°We''ll have to remember not to plan any surprises for you unless you''re in the other room.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yeah, about that¡­¡± I said, wincing. Well, if there was anyone I could ask for advice about this in particular, it was probably these two. ¡°I might still be able to hear you even then, if I tried. Trust me, I know, I, uh, can still hear people talking in Felda¡¯s kitchen even when I''m sitting at the bar.¡±


    ¡°That seems oddly specific,¡± Elle said, giving me a critical eye, and bit down on my lower lip.


    ¡°Yeeeeah¡­ I¡¯ve¡­ actually caught a couple of conversations between Felda and Bart when they thought I couldn¡¯t hear them,¡± I said, rubbing uncomfortably at the back of my neck.


    ¡°Sammie, that¡¯s eavesdropping,¡± Elle said, frowning, and I nodded.


    ¡°I know, I know, and the first time it happened it was an accident, I¡¯d only just woken up and I had no idea where I was, or even what I was,¡± I said, sighing and walking a few steps further, to one of a row of public benches that sat off to the side of the street.


    ¡°And after that?¡± Mel asked, following with her hands in her pockets.


    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t want to say anything because I didn¡¯t know what was going on, I just knew I needed information, and I didn¡¯t want to get found out as¡­ as an Outsider,¡± I said, dropping onto the bench and sliding down into it. Since I was trying to develop more of an awareness of my new appendages, I noted when my ears started to droop slightly. ¡°I figured it couldn¡¯t hurt to be able to listen in sometimes, in case I heard something I needed to know, but¡­ I probably should come clean to Felda and Bart, at least.¡±


    ¡°Probably?¡± Mel asked, dropping onto the middle of the bench.


    ¡°At least?¡± Elle asked, at the same time, and the pair glanced at each other. Mel snorted and motioned Elle to join her.


    ¡°Well, first off, I don¡¯t think you should go around telling everyone,¡± Mel said, and when Elle furrowed her brow she held up a hand. ¡°I know, I know, but think about it. She¡¯s a catkin, so everyone probably assumes she¡¯s got good ears.¡± With impeccable timing, Mel gave the back of one of my drooping ears a quick scratch. ¡°People already know better than to gossip next to dogkin and wolfkin, so they should assume the same about her. If it gets out that her hearing is even better than that, people will definitely overreact.¡±


    ¡°Mmmnnn,¡± Elle fussed, scrunching her face up in thought as she sat down next to Mel, bringing a hand to her chin. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, but, I see your point¡­¡±


    ¡°As for you, Sam,¡± Mel said, ceasing her scratching behind my ear, probably to ensure I was listening with my full attention. Which, of course, I already was. ¡°You just promise us you¡¯ll do your best to be responsible about this, and not abuse the trust of the town as a whole.¡±


    ¡°I swear I will only use my powers for good, and not for evil,¡± I said with a little grin, holding up a hand and then pressing it to the center of my chest.


    Mel snorted and raised an eyebrow at that, then just shook her head. ¡°Well, that¡¯s good enough for me.¡±


    ¡°But you should tell Felda and Bart!¡± Elle said, leaning across Mel to point at me, and I nodded rapidly. ¡°It¡¯ll only get worse the longer you wait!¡±


    ¡°I know, I know, I¡­ I¡¯ll try to do it tonight after we get back,¡± I said, sighing again and letting my head thump against the backrest of the bench. We rested in comfortable quiet for another minute or so, Mel occasionally patting my head, before I kicked my legs out and sat up.


    ¡°So, temple?¡±


    ¡ö


    (Continued in Part 2)

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.11.2

    Our trip to the temple of the gods ended up taking us back to the western side of town, nearer to the residential district again. Not ¡°true west,¡± but ¡°island west,¡± or ¡°relative west,¡± which I learned was how directions were conveyed on islands that were alive and technically always moving, even if ever so slightly as was the case with Torgard and the other major islands. True directions were based on the world¡¯s actual compass, while relative directions referred to the island¡¯s ¡°head¡± as north, and followed suit from there.


    ¡°Wait, so, that book showed the major islands but nothing else, but there are other islands out there?¡± I asked as we turned down another much calmer, much emptier street, having left behind the bustling crowds and upscale architecture as we moved closer to the docks again.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Mel said, laughing. ¡°Our world would be pretty empty if there were only eight islands. There¡¯s thousands of islands swimming around out there.¡±


    ¡°Why weren¡¯t any of them on the map in the book then?¡± I asked, then, immediately realized the answer and brought a hand to my forehead. ¡°Oh, duh, you just said, because they move around a lot more. Okay, so, in that case how does anyone ever find any of them?¡±


    ¡°Well, if an island is big enough and developed enough to be of note, it¡¯ll end up in charts and atlases, with a description of it and a general idea of its territory and usual travel paths,¡± Mel said, tapping her chin. ¡°Though, if an island is very important, there¡¯s that ritual that can be done, right?¡±


    Mel turned to look at Elle, clearly prompting her. Elle sighed good naturedly and nodded, holding up a hand and beginning to gesture with it. ¡°That¡¯s correct. It requires harvesting some of the island¡¯s blood, and using it to enchant a special compass that only points back to the island it was taken from. Here in Torgard, it¡¯s generally not done on anything but medium to large islands, and even then not very frequently. Because of the potential consequences to both the island and its inhabitants, both the permission of them, and the island itself, are required before it can be performed.¡±


    ¡°What, like, the island could get sick?¡± I asked, tilting my head.


    ¡°Absolutely!¡± Elle nodded gravely. ¡°The health of an island is a very real and very important thing to consider, because it takes hundreds and hundreds of years for new islands to form. A sea creature has to grow large enough that it''s capable of sustaining itself on mana alone before it can even be classified as a newborn island. You¡¯ve seen the druids around, right?¡± I nodded. ¡°Well, aside from everything they do to keep our villages and towns and cities running smoothly, they also look after the health and growth of islands.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± I said, a little stunned. I had thought they just handled simple infrastructure, but it seemed like their scope was much broader than I¡¯d realized, if it was their job to keep entire islands from dying. I made a note to more frequently leave a tip whenever I used the public restrooms.


    ¡°Speaking of the druids, do they like, work for the kingdom or something?¡± I asked another of the questions that had been lingering with me for a while.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± Elle said, shaking her head. ¡°The druids don¡¯t work for any one nation, they serve The Goddess of Reap and Sow herself.¡±


    I could practically feel the special emphasis Elle put on the name that told me that wasn¡¯t simply a description, but a name in itself. Before I could ask for clarification, Mel snapped her fingers and pointed up.


    ¡°Hey, good timing,¡± she said as I followed her finger.


    I¡¯d been watching Elle as she explained, so I missed our approach to the temple, and the building before us was both more and less than I¡¯d been imagining. It didn¡¯t resemble a church at all; it had no tall arched roof or steepled towers, but was instead more wide and boxy, taking up the entire end of the street. It sat on a rise of open, grassy earth dominated by, of course, another sprawling garden, with a set of wooden stairs leading up to the open double doors that looked to be about ten feet tall. The whole building was rectangular, and multi-tiered, like a trio of increasingly smaller shoe boxes stacked on top of one another, with the flat roof of each tier below serving as a wrap-around balcony for the floor above, all but the final floor; instead of having a flat roof, it was topped by what appeared to be a large glass dome.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± I whispered, awestruck, then winced. ¡°Oh sh-uh, shoot. Probably shouldn¡¯t swear here, right?¡±


    ¡°No, why?¡± Mel asked with a snort, raising an eyebrow. ¡°The gods don¡¯t care if you swear. If anything, they¡¯d be more confused on the ¡®holy¡¯ part, I¡¯ve never heard someone proclaim the divinity of shit as much as you do.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, blinking. ¡°Uh, that¡¯s not¡­ it¡¯s just an expression where I¡¯m from, we don¡¯t actually think shit is literally holy. There¡¯s a lot of them like that, actually: holy shit, holy fuck, holy cow, holy¡­ well, you get the point.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Mel said, clearly nonplussed. Beside her, Elle shook her head.


    ¡°Just because the gods don¡¯t care doesn¡¯t mean the temple staff won¡¯t,¡± Elle pointed out, and I looked again, noticing the people in various colored uniforms and robes walking the balconies overhead, or tending the garden around the temple, some of whom were indeed looking our way.


    ¡°Good point,¡± I said, flushing slightly.


    We resumed our approach, reaching and ascending the steps that led up to the entrance. As I got closer, I noticed more things, like the fact that the outer walls were mostly wood covered by masses of creeping vines, or that the garden surrounding the temple also featured a spacious pond over which a willow tree drooped, much like the one at the fishing hole Bart brought me to. I also began to pick out the differences in the outfits worn by the people I saw walking around. The vast majority were simple short-sleeved tunics and loose pants of a green, orange, and brown color schemes, here and there I saw some flowing robes with sleeves and cloaks sewn to resemble leaves, but I also saw outfits in dark blues and sea greens with geometric patterns of waves on them. Lastly, and the type I saw much fewer of, a handful of people in outfits consisting predominantly of different shades of red and white.


    Just as we crested the top of the final step, a woman appeared inside the doorway to greet us. At first glance I thought she was human, but quickly realized what I¡¯d mistaken for an antlered headdress were actual antlers,  growing out of the sides of her elaborately done-up auburn hair above a pair of brown-furred spade-shaped ears, like a deer¡¯s. Her skin was acorn-colored, and she wore an intricately-sewn leaf-patterned green and gold dress that ended above her knees, allowing me to see that her legs were covered in glossy brown fur and ended in a pair of split-toed black hooves.


    ¡°Greetings, and welcome,¡± she said with a small bow, her voice warm like a cup of tea on a cold day. ¡°I am High Priestess Irvine, pledged in service to She Who Sows, but you may call me Emilia. Is there anything I can help you girls with today?¡±


    Ah, right, I had still been speaking Elvish since we left the bakery. I made sure to switch back over to Common while Elle returned the bow and smiled.


    ¡°Thank you, your verdancy, we¡¯re just showing our friend Sam around; she¡¯s new in town,¡± Elle said, motioning to me. The woman turned her eyes on me and smiled wider, nodding, making the collection of wooden ornaments dangling from her antlers and hair clatter like a windchime.


    ¡°Ah, yes, our new visitor,¡± Emilia said, looking me up and down. ¡°I must admit, I have already heard many things about you, and am eager to learn which of them are truth and which are idle gossip.¡±


    ¡°O-oh yeah?¡± I said, chuckling nervously. ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Ouh, hmm, let¡¯s see,¡± she said, pressing her hands together and steepling them in front of her, her smile growing coy. ¡°Is it true you ran circles around a whole crew of trained pirates determined to catch you?¡±


    ¡°Pffha!¡± Mel burst out laughing, earning her an attempted shush from Elle, but Emilia seemed not to mind. On the contrary, she seemed amused as well as she waited for my answer.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a whole crew,¡± I said, shaking my head with a smile. ¡°It was just one, and I wouldn¡¯t say I ran circles around him, I just ran away from him.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, straight up a ten-foot beam and into the rafters,¡± Mel added, and flushed a little more.


    ¡°I see, I see,¡± Emilia said, nodding slowly, then turning and waving into the wide open space that made up the first floor of the temple. ¡°Well, thank you for indulging me. Feel free to wander as you wish, and don¡¯t be afraid to seek out myself or any of the other acolytes if you need anything.¡±


    With that, she turned and stepped gracefully back into the temple, and I noticed as she went that she had a tiny little upturned tail, the underside covered in snow white fur.


    ¡°You know, you of all people should know it¡¯s rude to stare at someone¡¯s tail,¡± Mel said slyly in Elvish, and I tore my eyes away to narrow them up at her, which caused her to just snicker and ruffle my hair.


    We proceeded into the temple and I got a more proper look at the interior of the first floor. The ceiling was high, and I saw that it was mostly to accommodate a large oak tree that stood at the center of the far wall, forming the backdrop of an enormous altar. There were three such altars of similar size, together taking up the entirety of the far wall. To the left of the tree was an impressively elaborate water feature, and the right was a¡­


    ¡°What the heck is that?¡± I asked, pointing to the third altar, which appeared to be set up before a towering statue of a nearly naked woman holding a gigantic sword in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. It was only after closer inspection that I saw the statue was not entirely naked, its modesty preserved by artistically placed folds of the billowing cape she was wearing.


    ¡°That¡¯s the altar of The Goddess of Love and War,¡± Elle said, her tone insistently hushed, like the way someone might talk in a library. Or, I realized, a church, which this was this world¡¯s equivalent of.


    Already tired of embarrassing myself, I lowered my voice to match hers before continuing. ¡°Is that why she¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s kind of in the name,¡± Mel said, chuckling and nudging me forward, then walking towards the center altar. ¡°I guess if we¡¯re going to start anywhere it should be these three, c¡¯mon.¡±


    I followed her and Elle, passing by several more alcoves set into the walls on either side, the altars inside them smaller than the grand three at the head of the temple. As we approached the center-most one, I began to make out more details, like the fact that there was a statue in front of this one too, but one I¡¯d missed because it was formed from wood the same shade as the tree. It depicted a figure with the upper body of a woman and the lower body of a horse or a deer. Her left arm was wrapped around a basket overloaded with fruits and vegetables, and her right arm was holding a sickle, and she was kneeling on all four legs in the grass surrounding the trees, her branch-like antlers mingling with those of the tree.


    ¡°This,¡± Elle said solemnly, ¡°is The Goddess of Reap and Sow, and one of the three supreme deities who created our world.¡±


    For a moment I didn¡¯t say anything. Something as simple as a ¡°Huh,¡± or a ¡°Wow,¡± didn¡¯t seem right, especially with how reverently Elle and even Mel were looking up at the statue.


    ¡°So, uh, I guess she¡¯s¡­ all about nature and stuff?¡± I asked, hesitantly, wary of offending either of them or the other members of the temple around us.


    ¡°Ah, oh, yes, we¡¯re supposed to be teaching you,¡± Elle said, giggling into her palm then clearing her throat. ¡°That¡¯s right, The Goddess of Reap and Sow or, depending on the situation, She Who Sows or She Who Reaps, is the goddess of all things to do with life and death, birth and growth and decay and renewal. If you need help with anything to do with plants or animals or health or anything like that, she¡¯s who you¡¯d pray to first.¡±


    Looking from the statue to the space in front of it, I saw a low, wide table, littered with bowls containing various fruits and nuts, as well as several lit candles.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s for offerings?¡± I asked, motioning down, and Elle nodded, smiling brightly.


    ¡°Yup!¡± She then knelt in front of the table on one of the many pillows that was layered in front of it, reached into one of the bowls for a handful of nuts, and tossed them into her mouth before closing her eyes and bowing her head.


    I stared, blankly, while Elle chewed and¡­ prayed? Eventually, I turned to Mel and whispered as quietly as I could, ¡°Are you¡­ allowed to eat those?¡±


    ¡°What? Yeah,¡± Mel said, smirking and also moving to rest on one knee, grabbing what looked like an overlarge raisin from the bowls, chewing it while explaining, ¡°She¡¯s the goddess of life and pretty much everything food is and comes from, seeing people enjoy the products of the land is one of the best ways to praise her.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said simply, and then, because I felt it would be unspeakably rude not to, I knelt down onto an empty pillow and, after scanning over the selection, grabbed a few dark red grapes and tossed them into my mouth.


    I closed my eyes and chewed, slowly, wondering just what the hel¡ª heck I was supposed to do now. I¡¯d been avoiding bringing up the subject of religion on Earth because it seemed like such a massive can of worms to open, even without getting into my own thoughts and feelings. My family had been the archetypal American ¡°just go on holidays and Christmas,¡± type, and whatever it was they got out of our infrequent church outings, I didn¡¯t.


    Still, it seemed like things were¡­ different in this world, and like I¡¯d said, there probably wasn¡¯t any harm in trying, right?


    Elle and Mel had just been sitting with their heads closed and their eyes bowed, but for me, it didn¡¯t feel like I was doing it right if I wasn¡¯t doing something with my hands. I didn¡¯t want to press them together flat so, instead, I clasped them in front of me.


    Uh¡­ hey there¡­ Goddess¡­


    I winced inwardly. I was so getting smited.


    It¡¯s me, uh, Sam. Well, I¡¯m called Sam now, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re supposed to be omniscient or what, but, a lot of stuff has happened since I came to, uh, your world. I don¡¯t know if that was you or what, and I still don¡¯t really know how I feel about it, or the cat girl thing. Well, the girl part is good, but the cat part¡­


    I shook my head. I was getting sidetracked, and the grapes in my mouth were mush. Was I supposed to wait until I finished praying to swallow? Damnit, why was this so unintuitive!


    Anyway, uhm, if it was you then, uh, thank you for dropping me here in Rower¡¯s Rest. I¡¯ve met a lot of really really nice people here, and I¡¯m happier than I think I¡¯ve been in a long time. So, uh, Ame¡ªoop, wait, no, that¡¯s probably not right. Uh, bye!


    I swallowed, and opened my eyes, looking up. The eyes of the statue, I realized, were downcast at just such an angle that now that I was kneeling, I could look directly into them. The expression on the statue¡¯s face was warm and comforting, and the longer I looked, the more I realized I was actually beginning to warm from the outside in, like I was sitting directly in the path of sunbeam. I looked around, but none of the high windows were pointed in my direction. Elle and Mel were looking at me curiously, obviously finished before I was.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡± Mel asked, and I shook my head.


    ¡°No, uh, I just¡­ feel really warm all of a sudden, I thought the sun was¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Elle gasped, cutting me off and placing her hands on my cheeks. ¡°Really? You feel a warmth?¡± Too confused to answer in words, I just nodded, and she beamed, jumping to her feet. ¡°Sammie, that¡¯s another blessing!¡±


    ¡°I¡­ What?¡± I asked, moving to follow her, and finding that my body felt lighter, refreshed like after one of my cat-naps. I blinked, hopping on the balls of my feet and holding up my hands, wiggling my fingers in front of me. The warmth had faded, but not entirely dissipated, and I no longer felt the fatigue that had started to build up in my legs from all the walking around.


    ¡°A blessing from the goddess,¡± Elle repeated. ¡°A sign that the goddess heard your prayer! Tell me, what are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°I, uh, I feel¡­ like I just woke up from a nap?¡± I said, rolling my shoulders and rubbing at my neck, finding not a trace of stiffness to be found. Realization of what exactly just happened dawned on me, and hurriedly asked, ¡°Does that happen every time?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Elle said, then, seeming to remember we weren¡¯t exactly alone, lowered her voice and switched over to Elven to explain. ¡°All of the gods have their own blessings to bestow, and specific prayers to ask for specific ones, but it doesn¡¯t usually happen if you¡¯re not a follower of theirs. For her to give you a blessing even though you¡¯ve not pledged yourself to her has to mean something!¡±


    ¡°...huh,¡± I said, letting my arms drop to my sides. Slowly, and a little fearfully, I turned to look up towards the statue again. At my height, even without kneeling, I could see into its eyes. ¡°Uh¡­ t-thanks.¡±


    Whatever else I expected to happen, nothing did, except Elle and Mel both chuckling behind me. Cheeks reddening again, I turned and looked to either side, at the other two altars.


    ¡°So, uh, should we check out the other two?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, might as well,¡± Mel said, patting me on the back as she turned to the left, leading us over to the quietly burbling water feature.


    Just like with the first altar, I noticed more about this one as I got a closer look. The fountain wasn¡¯t simply a single stream of water, flowing from top to bottom, but an elaborately carved work of art, made to resemble a massive scaled creature, a snake or a fish or something else I couldn¡¯t recognize. The head, from which the water poured, was long and triangular, like some kind of lizard, and had three eyes, two on the sides and one in the center of its forehead, all made of deep blue sapphires. Water poured out of its mouth and cascaded down its body, and I saw that it split and forked down many different paths carved between the scales, all of them eventually emptying out into the shallow pool at the bottom. I was shocked to see movement inside the fountain, as several tiny silver-bodied minnows darted about while larger, copper-scaled fish swam in more sedate circles.


    ¡°We¡¯re not allowed to eat those too, are we?¡± I asked, pointing at the fish. Elle bit down on her lip, and Mel pressed a fist to her mouth, snickering and snorting into it in an attempt not to burst out laughing inside the quiet temple.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a ¡®no,¡¯¡± I said, hunching my shoulders while Mel let out more muffled snickers into her clenched fist. Turning to Elle, I asked, ¡°So, uh, this is¡­?¡±


    ¡°The God of Time and Tide,¡± Elle said, more matter-of-factly than she¡¯d introduced the previous deity. ¡°I don¡¯t know as much about him because Mel and I aren¡¯t regular followers of his, but he¡¯s the god of everything to do with the ocean, traveling in it or on it, the passage of time, as well as things like plans and fate, and so on. You¡¯re supposed to pray to him when you want to get something done on time and for your plans to succeed, but lots of times people just pray for their enemies'' plans to fail instead.¡±


    I nodded along, taking in the explanation, then moved towards the row of pillows in front of the shallow pond and knelt down again.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re going to pray to him too?¡± Elle asked, and I realized neither of them had followed.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t want to be rude,¡± I said sheepishly, motioning at the pool. ¡°And, I know you said the other one was in charge of all the animals, and that includes fish, but the ocean is where most of the fish live, so I figure I should say something to this guy too.¡±


    ¡°Heh,¡± Mel chuckled again, shrugging. ¡°Fair enough. Well, you have to have a part of you in or at least touching the water, but some people say the only way is to have it be your face, and others say you have to be totally underwater. Then again, most of his followers are seadwellers.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know what that means,¡± I said, shaking my head. Well, I could ask later. Sitting up on my knees, I leaned down over the pool, gripping the sides and peering at my wobbly reflection past the constant ripples. Better make this one quick.


    ¡°Uh, Sammie?¡± Elle asked behind me. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    I thought that was fairly obvious, so, instead of answering, I just sucked in a deep breath and plunged my face into the fountain.


    Hey there, I began, no longer that worried about receiving some kind of retribution for a lack of decorum in my prayers.


    I¡¯m Sam, and I gotta make this quick. I don¡¯t really have anything for you but you seem pretty important so I just wanted to say ¡®hi,¡¯ and, uh¡­. Oh, I have a really important fishing competition coming up in the middle of summer, I guess if you could maybe help make sure that works out for me, I¡¯d really appreciate it, okaythankyoubye!


    Just as I felt myself starting to reach the limits of how long I could comfortably hold my breath, I pulled myself back out of the water, gasping for air. Before I could reach up and start trying to wipe my eyes clear, a fluffy towel was pressed into my hands.


    ¡°Mmf¡­ thanks,¡± I mumbled through the thick material as I wiped my face dry.


    ¡°The Lord of Time thanks you, as well,¡± a cheerful voice that belonged to neither Elle or Mel replied, and I felt my ears perk. Pulling my face out of the towel, I looked up and was greeted by a figure I initially took to be another elf, because his skin was blue, but upon closer inspection I realized it was also covered in very fine scales.


    The¡­ fish man? standing before me had mostly blue scales, but there was a stripe of black across his eyes like a mask, as well as down his arms and legs, which were bared by the short robes he wore, and two bright streaks of yellow that ran from the corners of his eyes and down his face, disappearing below his collar. What I took for the pointed ears of an elf were actually a pair of two pronged fins, and they weren¡¯t the only pair on his body; there were another two running along his forearms, and two more flanking his calves. His feet, clad in sandals like mine, were webbed, as was the hand he held out to help me up. His robes, I noticed, almost as an afterthought, were blue.


    Oh. So that¡¯s probably what a ¡°seadweller¡± is.


    Realizing I¡¯d spent far too long just staring wide-eyed up at the man, I took his hand and scrambled up to my feet. It was, as I expected, cold or clammy.


    ¡°Uh, s-sorry, I mean, thanks!¡± I said frantically, handing back the damp towel, which the man took and folded while smiling, showing off an impressive set of fully pointed teeth.


    ¡°Oh no, you¡¯re fine,¡± he said, chortling and draping the folded towel over his shoulder. ¡°If they realized you were planning to deliver your prayers the old fashioned way, they would¡¯ve sent me over sooner. I¡¯m Junior Tide Minder Fynn, but just call me Fynn.¡±


    ¡°F-Fynn?¡± I asked, unable to help myself.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Fynn said with a good natured chuckle. ¡°Trust me, I know, but despite how silly it is, it¡¯s still a crazy popular name for seafolk. There¡¯s a even saying down here: For every human named ¡®John¡¯ there¡¯s a seadweller named ¡®Fynn.¡¯¡±


    Beside me, Mel snorted. I couldn¡¯t help but snicker a little as well, which caused Fynn to smile again.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m Sam,¡± I said, realizing I¡¯d still not returned his introduction, then tilting my head to either side. ¡°And these are my, uh, my girlfriends, Elle and Mel.¡±


    ¡°Hey Fynn,¡± Mel said, grinning.


    ¡°Nice to see you,¡± Elle said, bowing her head slightly.


    ¡°Hey again,¡± he said, giving a little wave, then to me he explained, ¡°Well, they¡¯ve been coming to this temple for years, we have met. It¡¯s great to meet you, though, I hear you¡¯ve been making quite a splash around town.¡±


    For some reason, I suddenly felt like groaning.


    ¡°Eheh, yeah¡­¡± I chuckled, shrugged, and scratched at the back of my neck. ¡°I guess I have. Not intentionally or anything, but, I do kind of stick out down here.¡±


    Now that I had a bit more context on what people who met me would assume about my backstory, I figured it was a good idea to play along a bit.


    ¡°Nothin¡¯ wrong with that,¡± Fynn said, moving past me and approaching the fountain, reaching into a pouch that was dangling off one of his hips by his belt. ¡°As the God of Time and Tide says, a still pond is one lacking in life, and I think it¡¯s safe to say Rower¡¯s Rest has been still for a while.¡± Drawing his hand from the pouch, he tossed out a mix handful of thin, dried flakes of something green, as well as several red lumpy orbs the size of pebbles, both of which bobbed on the surface of the water. Whatever they were, the fish in the pool apparently loved them, as soon a tiny feeding frenzy was taking place, the commotion causing the surface of the water to churn and bubble.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, tearing my eyes away from the swarming fish before I could get any ideas. ¡°Well, happy to help make things more exciting, I guess.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re planning to make a prayer to The Goddess of Love and War too, right?¡± Fynn asked, jerking his head towards the final large altar.


    ¡°Uh, yeah, that¡¯s the plan,¡± I said, since there was no way I was risking offending a goddess who was depicted as a nearly-naked woman carrying a gigantic sword. ¡°Why, are there other special preparations we need to take care of first?¡±


    ¡°That depends,¡± Fynn said, grinning again. ¡°Are you planning to do that one in the old style too? Because if so, we¡¯ll need to get a few more towels ready.¡±


    ¡°Of course not!¡± Elle gasped, suddenly blushing furiously.


    ¡°We¡¯re not,¡± Mel said, rolling her eyes. Before I could blurt something out that might give away that I had no idea what he was talking about, Mel dropped one of her hands onto my head and gave it a quick scratch.


    ¡°You should be fine then,¡± Fynn said, chuckling and looking from side to side. ¡°Well, if there¡¯s nothing else I can do for you, I¡¯ll leave you to it, yeah?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re all set,¡± Mel said, returning his smile and waving with her free hand.


    ¡°No, but thank you again,¡± Elle said, shaking her head, cheeks still faintly green.


    With that, Fynn departed, and we turned to cross the room, but before he''d gone three steps he turned around and called out, ¡°Oh! One more thing!


    Curious, I looked back, and he once again flashed me a grin. ¡°Put in a good word with Sera for me, would you?¡±


    ¡°Pff, shut up, Fynn,¡± Mel said with a mix of a scoff and a laugh. Fynn picked up the pace of his departure and quickly became absorbed with helping someone waiting by one of the smaller altars.


    ¡°I don''t get it,¡± I said, turning to Elle, who also had a hand pressed to her mouth, failing to hide a smile.


    ¡°It''s a dumb joke,¡± Mel said, shaking her head. ¡°I''ll explain it in a minute. Looks like they''re waiting for us over there.¡±


    As we turned back to the third altar, I saw she was right. Someone else must have correctly guessed our intentions, because this time there were already two people in red robes waiting for us. An older, taller, human woman with blonde hair in darker red robes, and a younger, mousier-looking girl with brown hair and a paler red and white uniform.


    ¡°The Lady of Love smiles on you, my children,¡± the blonde woman announced as we came within comfortable speaking distance, pressing one hand to her chest and holding the other out to the side. ¡°I am Elder Sister Senna, this is Sister Juniper. It is my understanding you will be entreating the goddess today?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± I said, nodding, a little thrown off by the sudden shift back to a formal atmosphere after Fynn''s casual tone.


    ¡°Then will you be needing to avail yourselves of the complimentary healing ointments?¡± she asked, at the same time motioning to Sister Juniper again, or rather, at the circular silver tray she carried with several tiny glass vials of a viscous, dark rest liquid resting on it. They were about the same size as those little sample bottles of alcohol they sold at gas station counters.


    ¡°No, thank you,¡± said Elle, politely.


    ¡°Yeah!¡± I said at the same time, excitedly plucking up one of the vials from the tray and holding it up to the light. Mel eyed me and Elle outright boggled, so I took a split second to switch to Elvish and explain, ¡°Hey, if I''m gonna do it, I wanna do it right. Plus, free potion!¡±


    ¡°My, my,¡± Elder Sister Senna said, giving me a slight smile. ¡°It has been a while since I''ve seen someone express such¡­ enthusiasm to worship my lady, especially here in Torgard.¡± She looked expectantly at Elle and Mel, who exchanged glances. Shrugging, Mel reached out and accepted a vial as well.


    ¡°Sure, why not,¡± Mel said, then she and I both looked to Elle, who brought a hand to one of her cheeks and sighed.


    ¡°Very well. I suppose it has been a while,¡± Elle said, delicately lifting one more vial from the tray, giving Sister Juniper a smile and a ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, thanks,¡± I added, nodding my head at the suddenly uncomfortable-looking girl, who squeaked out something that might have been a reply and might have just been a noise.


    ¡°Well, we will let you have some privacy now,¡± Elder Sister Senna said with another smile, settling a hand on Sister Juniper''s shoulder and nudging her to move. I waved after them, then turned and grinned sheepishly at Elle and Mel.


    ¡°Come on, I wasn''t going to pass up a free potion,¡± I said, mostly to Elle¡¯s mildly exasperated look. ¡°I haven''t explained what video games are yet, but trust me, this is a big deal for me.¡±


    ¡°First of all, it''s not a potion,¡± Elle said, turning and moving towards the altar. ¡°It''s an ointment, which means it goes on the wound, please don''t drink it.¡±


    ¡°Aw, what?¡± I asked, deflating slightly as I followed Elle, kneeling onto one of the plush red pillows before a low slung wooden table. ¡°Well, still, magic liquid.¡± Tilting my head up to finally take in the full effect of the final altar, I asked, ¡°So, what''s the deal here?¡±


    Staring down at me was the statue I''d seen already, a woman wearing a cloak and a smile and nothing else, standing with one hand resting on the hilt¡ªor is that the pommel?¡ªof a sword that was taller than she was, the tip disappearing into the base around her feet. In her other arm she held an impossibly large bouquet of flowers, her back slightly bent and her arm slightly extended, as though to offer them to the people kneeling before her. Long hair that had a slight curl to it fell down her back and framed the sides of her face, and both the pose and the smile she wore somehow managed to make her look kind and compassionate, rather than imposing.


    Huh¡­ she looks kinda familiar too¡­


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Now that we were closer, I could also see that the area around and behind the statue was decorated with a mix of both actual flowers, and actual weapons. Swords and axes and spears were hung on racks, next to decorative pots overflowing with beautiful, fragrant flowers.


    ¡°Well,¡± Mel grunted lightly as she settled down on my opposite side. ¡°Like I said, this is The Goddess of Love and War. Anything to do with courting, relationships, or romance falls under her domain, but she''s also the patron of other kinds of love too, like the bonds between family members, or lifelong friends. She''s also who you pray to in all matters of conflict, but though people like to focus on just the exciting, blood kind, she also presides over like, contests of skill and friendly competitions too.¡±


    ¡°Oh, wow, that''s kind of a lot for one Goddess,¡± I said, glancing at the statue again and muttering, ¡°Hmm, maybe I should ask her for help in the fishing contest too then¡­ is that allowed? Double dipping on prayers?¡±


    ¡°Double what?¡± Mel asked, furrowing her brow.


    ¡°Yes, Sammie,¡± Elle said, resting a hand on my shoulder. ¡°You could visit every altar in this building if you wanted to and offer the same prayer, that is why the temple is here. Though whether you''d get a response is up to the gods themselves.¡±


    ¡°Ah, alright,¡± I said, smiling back at her, then holding up the vial of healing ointment. ¡°So, what was that ¡®old way¡¯ to pray Fynn was talking about, and does it have anything to do with these?¡±


    Elle''s hand disappeared from my shoulder and when I looked, she had turned away, but the tips of her ears were green. Beside me, Mel chuckled and lowered her voice.


    ¡°He was joking, people haven''t done that in thousands of years.¡±


    ¡°Well I figured the part, but still, what was it?¡± I asked, intensely curious.


    ¡°Are you sure you want me to tell you? I''m kind of afraid if I do you''ll just turn into a tomato,¡± Mel said, which obviously didn''t make me any less curious.


    ¡°Well now I have to know!¡± I said, sitting up on my knees and staring intently at Mel.


    ¡°Okay, okay, but don''t say I didn''t warn you,¡± Mel said, putting a hand on my shoulder to nudge me back onto the cushion. With that last warning ignored, Mel sighed, scooted closer, and lowered her head to whisper into one of my ears. ¡°Well, first, we''d have to fight each other.¡±


    ¡°What, like, physically?¡±


    ¡°Mmhm. Obviously not seriously or to the death or anything, but more as a show of strength, for the goddess. Depending on the occasion we''d either be armed or unarmed, but we wouldn''t stop until we were all at least a bit bloodied.¡±


    I felt my eyebrows slowly creeping higher and higher the longer she went on, surprised, but not at all embarrassed.


    ¡°That''s it?¡± I asked, tilting my head, and heard Elle groan behind me. Mel, savoring the chance to be dramatic for once, lowered her voice even further and brought a hand up to cup the side of her mouth, leaning closer to one ear.


    ¡°Of course not. After the show of strength, we''d have to put on the show of love...¡±


    Mel then proceeded to elaborate on what exactly that meant, and it took every ounce of strength in my small body to not let the words ¡°Blood orgy?!¡± burst from my lips at full volume. By the time she was finished, my cheeks felt like they were on fire, and I couldn''t stop staring up at the statue, expecting it to come to life at any second and try to explain itself.


    ¡°So¡­ the potions?¡± I asked distantly, turning back to Mel, who was looking far too pleased with herself.


    ¡°Ointment,¡± she said, and pointed to the low table in front of the altar, which featured only a single decoration in the form of an oval shaped copper bowl. ¡°And, it''s for after. Thankfully, these days we know you can get by with just a few drops of blood spilled and a quick kiss and still get the goddess''s attention. There''s a lot of debate over whether that was always the case, or if the goddess herself has just changed over time.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, eyeing the bowl. For something that apparently strangers dribbled blood into on a semi-regular basis, it was remarkably clean. ¡°Okay, that''s still kind of metal. I wonder what my friends would say if they could see me now, about to perform a blood ritual.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it''s hardly a ritual.¡± Elle scoffed. It was the first thing she''d said since Mel¡¯s history lesson, and she seemed to have gotten ahold of herself. ¡°For one thing, it doesn''t take hours to set up, and only has one component instead of two dozen.¡±


    Before I could ask, Mel leaned over and explained, ¡°She¡¯s had to sit through a lot of boring rituals.¡±


    ¡°Gah, stop telling me about cool magic stuff when I can''t take notes!¡± I grumbled, jokingly, and refocused on the bowl. As soon as we were done here, I was getting back to questioning what they''d said about the availability of magic. I held up one hand, staring at my palm, and asked, ¡°So, how are we supposed to do this?¡±


    ¡°With something sharp, hopefully,¡± Mel stated, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Once again preempting my question, Mel reached into her satchel and drew a wood-handled knife in a leather sheath. I blinked as she drew it out, revealing a short, slightly curved blade patterned with moons and stars, and continued staring as she leaned past me, over the bowl, and pricked the pad of her index finger with the very tip of her knife.


    Turning my head to ask Elle¡­ something, I found she''d already done similar, holding a tiny leaf-shaped knife with a handle carved like a coiling vine in her hand. She winced, but still resolutely squeezed the tip of her finger, forcing out several thick drops of¡ª


    ¡°Your blood is green?!¡± I asked in a frantic whisper as I watched the disturbingly-bright forest-green droplets splash against the bottom of the bowl next to Mel¡¯s blood, which was a rich navy blue instead. The scent of berries and lemon had increased significantly, and I realized it was coming from the blood.


    ¡°Did you think Elle was joking when she said thirty percent?¡± Mel asked, smirking and lifting the vial in her other hand. Pulling out the tiny cork with her teeth, she held the opening over her finger and tilted it slowly until the syrupy red liquid inside oozed out onto her fingertip, adding the smell of cherries mixed with a doctor¡¯s office into the mix.


    ¡°Apparently,¡± I said, sighing. There¡¯d be time for more questions later.


    While Elle and Mel rubbed the healing goop into their fingertips, I sat up on my knees again and leaned over the bowl. I didn¡¯t have a knife of my own, but, in a way, I had ten perfectly good substitutes growing out of the ends of my fingers. Bracing myself, I held up my left hand and, with a moment of confused flexing, extended just the claw on my left index finger. The tips of my fingers seemed a bit too small, so instead I pressed the tip of my claw to the pad of my right thumb, taking one more deep breath before forcefully stabbing it in. I hissed through my teeth and quickly pinched the sides of the wound between my thumb and forefinger, squeezing out several drops of blood that I was actually relieved to see was just the normal, default red, and didn¡¯t glow or smell like anything except a handful of pennies.


    Sitting back on the cushion, I popped the top off my own bottle and dribbled the healing ointment onto my thumb, shivering slightly at the immediate cooling sensation. Using my other fingers to rub it into the wound, I watch in fascination as the tiny opening closed right up before my eyes, leaving smooth skin with not a single trace of injury.


    ¡°Wow¡­¡± I whispered to myself, tilting my thumb this way and that, inspecting it. It wasn¡¯t even sore, and the remaining red goop was either evaporating or being absorbed into my skin, so that within seconds my hands were completely clean without so much as a sticky residue left behind.


    ¡°You¡¯re so fascinated by the simplest things,¡± Mel said, lifting my attention back to her and Elle. ¡°It¡¯s really adorable.¡±


    ¡°W-well to me it¡¯s not simple at all,¡± I protested weakly, feeling myself flush again and lowering my eyes to the bowl. I¡¯d joked about it earlier, but it really was hard to believe I was sitting here, offering up blood to a goddess in exchange for¡­ what was I even going to ask for?


    ¡°So what happens now?¡± I asked, and Mel gave me a meaningful grin. I realized with a start that she¡¯d already said what comes next.


    ¡°...a few drops of blood spilled and a quick kiss¡­¡±


    ¡°O-oh, right,¡± I said, then glanced side to side. I was, in what was rapidly becoming a pattern, once again sat between the two of them. ¡°W-well, there¡¯s three of us, so m-maybe you two should go first, or¡­¡±


    I trailed off as the pair collectively came to the decision to reject my suggestion and, in a repeat of the move they¡¯d pulled when we were seated on their couch together not too long ago, leaned down together and pressed a kiss each onto either of my cheeks. I saw it coming, but that didn¡¯t make it any less flustering, and I almost missed both times as I turned my head to return the favor.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re happy up there,¡± I said, casting a glance up at the statue looming over us and its kind, benevolent smile.


    With the preparations apparently complete, Elle and Mel bowed their heads, and I did the same, once again clasping my hands together and closing my eyes. I sat that way for several moments, not actually sure where to even start. Even though Elle said it was okay, I didn¡¯t want to lead off with just asking for more help with the competition.


    Hey th¡ª uh, I mean¡­ greetings, goddess, my name is Sam and¡­ and basically, two really nice, really amazing elf girls who honestly should be out of my league just asked me to go out with them today, and I really don¡¯t know if I should be thanking you or begging for help or what, but¡­


    I frowned, losing my train of thought. This was a terrible prayer. Shaking my head slightly, I started over.


    Sorry, sorry, what I mean is, I¡­ I¡¯m glad they asked me out, but I¡¯m scared of disappointing them, or letting them down. I¡­ don¡¯t know if I¡¯ve ever been in love, or how it¡¯s supposed to feel, and they obviously love each other, so I guess I¡¯m worried I won¡¯t be able to¡­ catch up? I mean, I like them both, a lot, and they apparently like me too, but you¡¯re the Goddess of Love, not the Goddess of Like, so¡­ shit, shit, this is so not helpful¡­


    Scrunching my face up in concentration, I took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly.


    What I¡¯m trying to say is, if it¡¯s meant to work out between me and Elle and Mel, then¡­ Thank you. I¡¯m not just asking you to make sure we all fall in love and live happily ever after, I don¡¯t think it works that way and I wouldn¡¯t want it to either, but¡­ maybe a little help? I¡¯m not asking for the world¡¯s most exciting love life or anything, but just like, make sure our dates go okay, and that we don¡¯t end up in some bizarre love triangle or something stupid like that¡­ and, uh, I guess that¡¯s it. Bye.


    I really had to learn a better way to close out prayers if I was going to do this again. And, well, since I was already here¡­


    Oh, and if you could maybe help me with the fishing contest too, please. Okay, bye now for reel¡­ I mean for real.


    Lifting my head and blinking my eyes open, I glanced furtively to either side. Elle and Mel were there, both of them smiling gently at me in their own ways, obviously having finished their own prayers ahead of me. Before I could say anything, a flash of light in the corner of my eye drew my attention to the bowl, and I watched, wide-eyed, as the tiny quarter-sized puddle of blood in the center of it caught fire. The flame was tiny and narrow, like a candle¡¯s, and an odd reddish-purple color instead of orange. In the time it took me to blink twice, the puddle of blood had burned away, the flame winking out and leaving behind a fragrant wisp of smoke that dissipated into the air.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Mel said, and I tilted my head to stare at her.


    ¡°W-what?¡± I asked nervously, gesturing at the now empty, spotless bowl. ¡°That was supposed to happen, right?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, don¡¯t worry, that¡¯s normal,¡± Mel said, chuckling. ¡°But, usually the fire is more of a blueish-green, since mine and Elle¡¯s blood is, you know, blue and green.¡± She motioned between herself and Elle, then grinned. ¡°I guess adding yours into the mix made it a different color.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, echoing Mel¡¯s remark. ¡°Neat¡­¡±


    After that, we sat for a few more moments in pleasant silence, enjoying each other¡¯s presence and the scents of flowers that clung to the air around the altar.


    ¡°So, why did she, uh, Sister Senna seem so surprised that I was excited back there?¡± I asked after a moment. It hadn¡¯t stood out as strange at the time, but now I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what she meant.


    ¡°Oh, that,¡± Mel said, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder before taking a deep breath. ¡°Yeah, you should probably know before the next time it comes up¡­¡± She trailed off, visibly collecting her thoughts while tilting her head back to look up at the statue. ¡°So, you asked about the Empire earlier, and we told you the basic gist of it, but left this part out. The reason that things have gotten so bad, the reason people have become less enthusiastic to show devotion to the Goddess of Love and War, is because the Empire has been claiming for over a thousand years now that everything they¡¯re doing is in service to her. Somewhere along the line, their royal family got it into their heads that they¡¯re descendents of the goddess herself, and now their churches worship a version of her that is completely at odds with the rest of the world. They claim that humans are her favorite, and that anyone who doesn¡¯t believe them or follow their ways are wrong.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± I said, my brow slowly furrowing as I took in the story. That was¡­ that was some serious shit, and for perhaps the first time since I¡¯d come to this world, I felt real, actual fear at the thought of such a threat existing out there, across the ocean. Elle, quick to pick up on my distress, leaned over to loop one of her arms around my shoulder and pull me to her side.


    ¡°Mmhm.¡± Mel hummed in agreement, nodding and reaching over to rest a hand on my head as well. ¡°Listen, don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re still safe here in Torgard. They¡¯d never make it to us, and even if they did, we¡¯d know well before we were in any danger.¡± She scratched at my head gently, almost absently, then let out a resigned sigh. ¡°But, they¡¯ve still all but declared war on the whole world, and, well, they¡¯re powerful enough that no one kingdom has the resources to stop them alone, and nobody is willing to risk provoking them into going all out. Except the pirates, of course, and they¡¯re doing everything they can, but they¡¯re still fighting an uphill battle. Even with how far away it¡¯s happening, it¡¯s still not great to think about.¡±


    ¡°No kidding,¡± I said, giving Elle a squeeze and leaning my head into Mel¡¯s fingers. My eyes were drawn to the goddess¡¯s statue as well, and I frowned. A part of me wanted to ask, if the gods of this world were as real as they seemed, and they had the power to affect and influence it like I¡¯d seen and felt, why hadn¡¯t one of them stepped in and done something about this Empire. Were there limits to their powers that I just didn¡¯t understand? There was no way the Empire was just getting away with it because they were actually right, was there?


    A shiver ran down my spine. Now that didn¡¯t bear thinking about.


    ¡°We should probably¡­ get moving now. Don¡¯t wanna hog the altar, right?¡± I asked, looking back and forth from Elle to Mel.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mel agreed with a dry smile, giving my head one more scratch then pushing herself to her feet. Elle nodded and stood, helping me up as well. She seemed somewhat clingy after the somber moment, as she kept at least one arm around me even as we walked away from the altar. There wasn¡¯t anyone waiting to take our place, and as we passed by I caught sight of Elder Sister Senna and Sister Juniper, standing and talking against the far wall. The former caught my eye and gave me a smile that seemed much sadder than it had before, and gave her a little wave in return.


    Stepping down from the raised rear of the main hall, Mel stopped and motioned to the sides of the room, which were lined with many recessed alcoves containing smaller altars, the ones we¡¯d passed on the way in in favor of visiting the largest three first.


    ¡°Guess we should go over some of these before we leave, huh?¡± she asked, and I brightened up a little, nodding and fishing my journal out of my bag.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d like that,¡± I said, looking to Elle and giving her a smile. She seemed alright, if a little withdrawn, but she smiled back and squeezed my shoulders again.


    ¡°Yes, then after that we should get you back to Felda¡¯s. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll want to hear that you¡¯re doing much better,¡± Elle said, keeping pace with me as I followed Mel towards the first of the alcoves.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be a load off her mind,¡± I said, nodding. I would be glad if I could just stop causing disruptions in Felda¡¯s life entirely; between her taking me in and having to defend herself on my behalf, and then having to deal with¡­ all of my baggage, she really deserved to be able to relax a bit.


    As we made a quick circuit of the temple, Elle and Mel gave me a crash course on the minor deities; gods who served more narrow, specialized roles and had actual names, unlike the big three who covered much broader concepts in comparison.


    First I learned the names of possibly the five most important gods, as they were the ones the days of the week were named after. Even though I already knew the goddesses of day and night, Soliel and Seras, we still visited their alcove, since their altars were always built together. I learned that the first and last days of the week were named after them as well, Solday and Serday, respectively. Elle delighted in pointing out that their meeting up together at the end of every week was the same as their meeting at sunrise and sunset from the story I¡¯d read, and I think she took a bit of extra delight in how merely mentioning it almost made me cry again. After that were the three remaining days, Ferday, Kourday, and Colday, named after Ferros, Koura, and Colin.


    ¡°Okay, slow down,¡± I said, putting a brief pause on Mel¡¯s explanation. ¡°There¡¯s a god named Colin?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Mel said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Why, what¡¯s wrong with Colin?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, it¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s just a very normal name,¡± I said, shaking my head and raising my journal again. ¡°And you said he¡¯s the god of¡­ jokes?¡±


    ¡°Jokesters, pranksters, and trickery,¡± Mel said, clarifying, and I scribbled it down next to the rest.


    ¡°And Ferros is like metals and forging and making stuff, and Koura is selling stuff,¡± I said, wanting to double check I¡¯d gotten both right.


    ¡°Overly simplified, but yes,¡± Elle said, still sticking close to me, but now seeming to have regained her spark. ¡°That¡¯s why Solday and Ferday are considered the best days for working hard, Kourday is the best day for taking the results of that work to market, Colday is best for parties and celebrations, and Serday is for resting.¡±


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe your weeks are only five days long,¡± I said, trying to jot down a condensed version of that explanation.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe your weeks are a whole seven days,¡± Mel said in response, sounding genuinely confused. ¡°I mean, what did you do with all that extra time?¡±


    ¡°Not a whole lot, really,¡± I said, lifting my head. ¡°I guess, to put it your way, weekends are like two extra Serdays where you don¡¯t have to go to school, but adults still had work on the weekends. Me, I mostly just used them to sleep in, watch cartoons, and generally loaf around and be glad I wasn¡¯t going to school.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to start making a list of all the things you still need to explain to us,¡± Mel said with a playful sigh, turning back to the alcoves. ¡°Right, well, this is Ferron, god of exploration and travel, he¡¯s Ferros¡¯ brother.¡±


    ¡°Bet he¡¯s mad he didn¡¯t get a day named after him,¡± I said, earning a round of snickers and giggles from my companions.


    We continued on until we got to another altar that was unusually laid out, and Elle once again jumped in to drop another revelation on me.


    ¡°And this is the altar of the moons,¡± Elle said cheerfully, ushering me into another alcove and pointing to the mural that took up the entirety of the inner wall. Instead of an image of the god it represented, it was a depiction of the world, with four colored spheres floating at each of the cardinal directions, one green, one pink, one orange, and one blue. The spheres were connected by a golden ring running between them, with a series of many tiny notched increments running the edge of the ring like a ruler that had been bent into a circle.


    ¡°Did you say¡­ moons?¡± I asked, narrowing my eyes and flicking them between her and the mural.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Elle said, grinning as she pointed to the four circles and listed off their names in turn. ¡°There¡¯s Abun the Spring Moon, Dala the Summer Moon, Jenn the Autumn Moon, and Fros the Winter Moon.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ I¡¯ve only seen the one moon?¡± I said, motioning towards the pink one.


    ¡°Well of course, it¡¯s summer right now,¡± Elle said, and when she saw I clearly still wasn¡¯t getting it, she pointed back the way we¡¯d come. ¡°Okay, you remember how Soliel and Sera learned their lesson about sharing the hours in the day, right?¡± When I nodded, she again pointed at the mural of the four moons. ¡°Well, when they had their four daughters, that meant they already knew exactly how to split up the time each of them got to have influence over the world. That¡¯s why every season lasts exactly one hundred days.¡±


    My pencil, which had barely begun moving again, stilled, and my mouth opened slowly. I wanted to focus on the second, more impactful thing she¡¯d just revealed to me about this world¡¯s calendar, but I also couldn¡¯t ignore the first part.


    ¡°D-d-daughters?¡± I spluttered out, eyes wide.


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Elle said, grinning even wider and pressing her hands together in front of her. ¡°You must not have gotten to that story yet, but, yes, Soliel and Sera had four daughters, and they became the moons.¡±


    Aw, spoilers!


    Despite myself, I felt my eyes start to water, and bit down on my lip. ¡°T-t-that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s!¡±


    ¡°I knoooow, it¡¯s so sweet, right?¡± Elle cooed, finishing my sentence and swooning backwards into Mel, who caught her with an awkward cry.


    ¡°U-uh huh!¡± I nodded, taking a deep sniff and doing my best to try and suck the unshed tears right back into my eyes, not wanting to be caught getting reduced to tears by a children''s fable for the second time.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, you two,¡± Mel said in mock exasperation, rolling her eyes then yelping as Elle sat up and gave her a sudden kiss that I could only describe as ¡°vengeful.¡±


    Still, while Elle playfully teased Mel out of her usual taciturn state, I couldn¡¯t help but ponder the other half of what she¡¯d revealed.


    Every season is exactly one hundred days¡­


    It made sense with what I¡¯d already heard, really. There weren¡¯t ¡°months¡± in this world that I could tell, just the four seasons, split up into four quarters each, which, like their names suggested, were twenty five days long with five weeks of five days. Added up, if everything were to be truly equal, that meant the years in this world had to be four hundred days long, a whole thirty five days longer than on Earth.


    While not immediately useful, that seemed like incredibly basic everyday information, and I was glad I¡¯d learned it before anyone could catch on to my ignorance. I had just enough time to note it down in my journal before Elle turned back to me and, clearly not satisfied with just reducing Mel to a mess, gave me a quick peck on the forehead that threw my thoughts entirely out of focus for a few moments.


    ¡°Alright, really, come on, we got one stop left,¡± Mel said, urging us to our feet, and mumbling a hushed apology to the elderly couple who filed into the alcove after us. ¡°I saved this one for last, because I know you''re gonna have questions.¡±


    ¡°Oooh?¡± I said, perking my ears up.


    The altar Mel brought us to last was, like most of the others, a short table tucked into an alcove, with candles lit at the edges and a space in the center for offerings, and a tile mural of the god it was dedicated to set into the back wall. The figure in this alcove was robed, its eyes obscured by large round lenses, a staff in one hand and a book in the other. My eyes lit up, and I turned excitedly to Elle.


    ¡°God of wizards?¡± I asked, hopefully.


    ¡°Well, actually,¡± Elle said, hiding a giggle in her hand. ¡°Vidya is the god of scholars, but after the discovery and proliferation of magic as we know it, people began to see him as a god of mages as well.¡±


    ¡°Ah, he¡¯s the god of nerds then,¡± I said, crossing my arms and nodding sagely.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing it on purpose now, aren¡¯t you?¡± Mel asked with a grin.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± I said innocently, once again lifting my journal and pencil. ¡°So, if you¡¯re finally ready to go back to it, what was that you were saying? Not everybody had magic?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Elle said, settling down into the cushion across from me and letting her back rest against the wall of the alcove behind her. ¡°I guess I should start from the very beginning. We have records from multiple civilizations that tell us that there was a time when the only beings in the world known to be able to cast magic were magical creatures, though back then they were just called monsters.¡± Turning her head to the side, Elle grumbled, ¡°Though, some people still call them monsters, which is completely unfair, I mean, would you call Clover a monster¡­¡± Catching herself and clearing her throat, she continued, ¡°A-anyway, for a long time that was the norm, until suddenly, and for no reason anyone¡¯s been able to determine, things changed.¡±


    I nodded along to Elle¡¯s words with rapt attention, sitting with my back to the opposite wall and taking notes as fast as I could.


    ¡°At some point, certain mortals, seemingly at random, began to be born with the ability to cast magic the same way magical creatures could, with nothing but their will and the mana inside them.¡± Elle paused for a moment, catching her breath and, when Mel offered, taking a sip from her canteen before continuing. ¡°You can guess what happened next; those mortals who awoke to these powers used them to establish themselves as rulers, or tyrants. They discovered that these powers could be passed down to their children, and they built entire dynasties on the backs of their ability to overpower just about anyone except another magic user, and for a time, they went completely unopposed. Until, according to the legend, Vidya helped the scholars who would become the world¡¯s first mages make an incredible discovery.¡±


    Elle paused again to motion to the mural inside the alcove, and she spent several moments just staring distantly into it.


    ¡°It was magic, right? Like, ¡®new magic?¡¯¡± I asked, prompting her, too on the edge of my seat to help myself, and she turned back with a smile.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Elle said, nodding. ¡°Vidya helped those scholars discover the¡­ source, I suppose, of magic. Or maybe the key to finding it, it¡¯s been a while since I learned this myself and the different stories get a bit muddled. Suffice it to say, they discovered that by dissecting and closely examining the remains of magical creatures, and later plants as well, they could learn what we now know as ¡®sigils,¡¯ symbols that make up a language that controls the natural laws of the very world around us and makes magic possible.¡±


    ¡°Woah!¡± I gasped, sitting forward, my eyes going wider than I thought possible, my notes momentarily forgotten. Elle¡¯s smile grew at my excitement.


    ¡°From there the rest is, well, literally history. The scholars worked in secret to discover as many sigils as they could and compile them into the world''s first spells, learning how to cast them and how to imbue them into objects and, when they were ready, revealing to the world at large that magic was now within the grasp of anyone and everyone.¡±


    ¡°They did that by blowing the head off of some guy who called himself ¡®The Immortal King of Flame¡¯ in front of his whole kingdom,¡± Mel cut in from my side, momentarily taking over the story.


    ¡°That¡¯s the coolest thing I¡¯ve ever heard,¡± I said, turning to Mel. ¡°Were they just way more powerful than him from all that secret practice, or what?¡±


    ¡°No, see, that¡¯s the thing,¡± Mel said, grinning and holding up a finger. ¡°So, alone, one person with a magic bloodline might be able to take on a thousand normal people, and a hundred novice mages, but the thing about those lines is, the magic they granted was powerful, but rigid. Any one bloodline only ever had command over one element, like fire in his case.¡± Mel held up four fingers on her other hand. ¡°But, with sigil magic, a sufficiently skilled mage can cast spells that do all sorts of shit. Fly, shoot fire or ice or lightning, throw things around with their mind, turn their body to metal, the list goes on.¡±


    I was practically drooling by now, and for the first time it wasn¡¯t over a piece of fish.


    ¡°So, you put four fully-trained mages up against a guy who can only throw fire around, and has never had a real challenge in his life, and he topples like a tower with the base blown out of it.¡± Mel folded her four fingers over the one, then with a grin twisted her grip to crack one of her knuckles for dramatic effect, then nodded back towards Elle.


    ¡°And that¡¯s why we¡¯re in the Era of Magic now,¡± Elle said, opening her hands and holding them out in front of her. ¡°The mages spread the resources to learn magic to the people, and¡­ most of the worst of the kingdoms that were founded on the back of a magic bloodline were overthrown and replaced.¡±


    ¡°Wait, but, if everybody had magic now, what was to stop someone else from just doing it all over again?¡± I asked, in between trying to find out how I was going to fit everything I¡¯d just heard into my notes.


    ¡°Well, for one thing, like you just said, everybody has magic now, or has the ability to learn it,¡± Mel answered. ¡°It takes a lot of hard work to get good enough at magic that you could be dangerous, and thankfully most places that teach magic professionally try to instill some of the lessons that the first council stood by in their students. That way, nobody could get it into their head to declare themselves ¡®Supreme King Dick of the Bloody Dynasty¡¯ without there being tons of other people ready and willing to step in and stop them, and if they weren¡¯t enough, then the Council of Mages would be. Even today, they do their best to prevent misuse of magic, but¡­¡±


    She trailed off, and I nodded, pointing back to Elle.


    ¡°You said ¡®most,¡¯ right?¡± I asked, already pretty sure I knew where this was going. ¡°But the Empire is¡­¡±


    ¡°The Empire is one of the last remaining bloodline dynasties, yes,¡± Elle said with a sad smile. ¡°Most of the other remnants fled the surface and now their descendants exist as part of High Society, and whatever they¡¯re up to, they haven¡¯t returned to try and reclaim their former positions down here, but the Empire and the kingdom of Yuusha are still led by a family that maintains a direct line to the old bloodlines. Thankfully, Yuusha keeps mostly to itself, but, well, you¡¯ve heard what the Empire is getting up to.¡±


    ¡°Geez,¡± I said, slumping backwards against the wall again. ¡°That is¡­ that¡¯s so much, how am I ever going to learn your world¡¯s entire history before someone catches on?¡±


    ¡°Hey, to be fair, a lot of this isn¡¯t stuff everybody has on hand,¡± Mel said, leaning over and bumping my shoulder with one of hers, then nodding at Elle. ¡°I only know all this because she knows, and she only knows this much because she went to the academy to study it.¡±


    I was still reeling too much to sit up and gasp, but my eyes still fell on Elle, who flushed green hunched her shoulders up, nodding shyly.


    ¡°Yes, yes, I went to the royal academy¡­¡± Elle said, sitting up and starting to rise from her cushion. ¡°It¡¯s one of the reasons I came to Torgard, but that story seriously can wait until another day. We need to get you back, and we¡¯ll need to start helping Felda set up for the evening.¡±


    ¡°Awwww, fine,¡± I mock-grumbled, snapping my journal closed and stowing it in my satchel before springing to my feet. Smiling up at Elle, I reached out for one of her hands and nodded. ¡°But seriously, thank you. Not just for the story, but for everything today. I had no idea just how much I needed this.¡±


    Elle took my hand and beamed, using it to pull me to her side and wrap her other arm around me, hugging me tightly, and after a moment I felt Mel at my back, my vision momentarily going dark as I was smushed between the pair once again.


    I had to shield my eyes for a moment when we finally emerged back into the sunlight, standing on the edge of the steps that led up to the temple.


    ¡°Wow, we were in there a while, huh?¡± I asked, noting just how much further across the sky the sun had drifted since I¡¯d last seen it.


    ¡°Yep,¡± Mel said, stretching her arms over her head, twisting her back to either side a few times and grunting. ¡°I¡¯m actually pretty glad we stopped by here, this blessing is going to feel real good by the time we¡¯re closing up.¡±


    ¡°Ah, sor¡ª¡± I began to apologize, but Mel shushed me, her hand appearing in front of me in a flash and pressing a finger to my lips.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you even think about it,¡± Mel said, grinning as I flushed and flinched backwards. ¡°We wanted to do this for you, and if it means we both hit the hay a little harder tonight, then so be it. As long as you had a good time and you feel better, that¡¯s what¡¯s important.¡±


    ¡°O-okay,¡± I stammered, lowering my eyes and biting my lip to stop myself from immediately trying to apologize again for the first apology. ¡°Well, then, yes on both counts. I feel so much better than I ever could have hoped, and I had a great time learning all this stuff, and I¡­¡± My throat, suddenly dry, seized up with nerves at what I wanted to say. Swallowing, and lifting my gaze from the smooth stones of the temple steps, I met Elle and Mel¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°And I¡¯m really glad you two asked me out.¡±


    A chorus of ¡°Aww¡±s and another, much quicker group hug followed after that, before we set off down the steps together, finally due to return to Felda¡¯s tavern. Just before we reached the bottom, a stray gust of wind blew across my face, and a glass-like tinkling sound drew my attention to the left. Turning my head, I noticed a figure across the grass, standing in the shadow of one of the large trees that dotted the courtyard. I figured they were one of the temple staff, as they were wearing a hooded robe that gently fluttered in the breeze, but under the shade I couldn''t tell what color it was.


    The figure had their arms raised over their head, doing something to a low hanging branch. When they stepped aside, I saw that there was now a wind chime made of clear glass tubes and colored beads dangling from it, and the figure turned to look at me. As the wind started to play through the newly hung decoration, a smile slowly spread across the lower half of their face, and the sounds of glass chiming grew louder and louder in my ears.


    ¡°Sam?¡±


    Mel¡¯s voice snapped my attention back to the pair, who had stopped a few feet ahead of me and turned around.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡±


    I turned back towards the tree, and saw that the figure was gone, leaving only the gently swaying wind chime.


    ¡°Uh, no,¡± I said, scratching my head. ¡°I thought I saw someone doin¡¯ something¡­ weird, but it¡¯s probably nothing.¡±


    ¡°Ah, alright.¡±


    Elle and Mel waited for me to catch up again, and we resumed our journey back to the tavern. As we went, the sounds of the tinkling wind chime seemed to follow me much further from the temple than should be possible, even with my hearing, and I continued to cast glances over my shoulder until they finally faded.


    ¡ö


    ¡°Welcome back, girls,¡± Felda said brightly as we filed into the Tavern, leaning over the bar with Bart seated to her right. It appeared we¡¯d arrived after she¡¯d already finished setting out the chairs and lighting the lanterns, and I felt the briefest twinge of guilt that I¡¯d kept Elle and Mel long enough that they weren¡¯t here to help. I quashied those feelings just as quickly, and smiled back at her in return.


    ¡°Heya,¡± I said, waving.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Mel said, unslinging her satchel.


    ¡°Hello Felda, sorry we¡¯re a little late,¡± Elle said, earning a playful scoff.


    ¡°Nonsense! How was the day out?¡± Felda asked, coming around from behind the counter to meet us, and I couldn¡¯t help but grin and pick up speed, my sandals slapping against the wooden floor as I hurried to cross the tavern.


    Startled, Felda held up her arms and braced herself, catching me as I skidded to a halt and all but crashed against her. I threw my arms around as much of her larger frame as I could, and hugged her like I hadn¡¯t just seen her before I left. Overcoming her surprise, Felda leaned down to wrap her arms around me in return, squeezing a quick purr out of me.


    ¡°It was great,¡± I said when I finally lifted my head again, smiling up at Felda. ¡°Elle and Mel helped me figure out some¡­ really important stuff about what was bothering me, something I never would have found on my own, and I¡¯m feeling a lot better now.¡±


    ¡°Oh? That¡¯s fantastic, Sam,¡± Felda said, beaming brightly and giving me another tight squeeze. I thought she might press even further than that, maybe actually ask for an explanation, but it seemed she was letting me decide whether I elaborated, something I appreciated greatly. I knew I wanted to tell Felda the whole truth someday soon as well, but there was no way I was going to go through all of that twice in one day.


    Thankfully, there was something else I could tell her instead.


    ¡°That¡¯s not all,¡± I said, releasing Felda and walking backwards to where Elle and Mel were waiting for me, grinning wide. Clearing my throat, I reached up and took one of their hands into each of mine, gripping them firmly and holding Felda¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°Felda, Elle and Mel have asked me to join their orchard,¡± I said, smoothly switching from Common to Elvish mid sentence, something I¡¯d been practicing for most of the walk back. I told the pair I thought it would really help the presentation, and they agreed emphatically.


    The reaction was immediate, and gratifying. Bart, who had been quietly sipping something from a tall wooden mug, suddenly choked and bent over his stool, coughing and hacking, while Felda¡¯s jaw actually dropped.


    ¡°O-oh!¡± Felda stammered, struggling through a clear loss of words, reaching out and putting a hand on the bar beside her. ¡°That¡­ that¡¯s great, Samantha! I¡­ Sorry, I¡¯m just¡­ shocked, to be honest. So, are three of you going to be¡­?¡±


    ¡°Together, yeah,¡± Mel finished for her, grinning and obviously savoring seeing her boss thrown so far off balance. ¡°Believe me, if we hadn¡¯t both been so nervous wondering how she¡¯d actually react, we would¡¯ve told you too, but we didn¡¯t want to get anyone¡¯s hopes up but our own, y¡¯know? Though, now that she¡¯s said ¡®yes,¡¯ we wanted you to be the first to know.¡±


    ¡°Hey, what?¡± I asked, scandalized, tilting my head to stare up at her. ¡°You really thought there was a chance I¡¯d say ¡®no?¡¯¡±


    ¡°We very much didn¡¯t want to assume, Sammie,¡± Elle said, ruffling up my hair before turning back to Felda. ¡°And, yes, we¡¯re trying it out, and like we told Sammie, it¡¯s at her pace. We¡¯ll be taking things as slow as possible and always double checking that she''s comfortable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s wonderful!¡± Felda said when she finally managed to pull herself together enough to finish a whole sentence, and a sense of relief I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d been waiting on washed over me at seeing how happy she was for me, for us. A part of me had been scared that Felda might disapprove, or have some other reservations, but I sensed none of that as she proceeded to fawn over the three of us.


    Worming my way out from between Elle, Mel, and Felda and leaving them to talk amongst themselves for a moment, I excused myself to step over to the bar, where Bart had recovered from his coughing fit, and was watching the display with a reserved smile.


    ¡°I took your advice,¡± I said, hopping up onto the stool beside him.


    ¡°Seems you did,¡± Bart said, turning in his stool to look down at me. The smile remained, but I could see it threatening to slip as Bart¡¯s eyes bored into me, studying me closely. I grinned back at him, flashing a single fang, but otherwise waited for him to get to whatever he was going to say in his own time.


    ¡°Felda is¡­ perhaps too overcome at the moment to think to ask you this,¡± Bart began, his tone hesitant and his voice quiet. ¡°She¡¯s known those girls for a long while, and she and I both know they¡¯re trustworthy. You¡¯d be well within your rights if you wanted to tell me I''m stepping way out of line here, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Are you going to ask if I know what I¡¯m doing?¡± I asked, slowly swinging my legs off the edge of the stool.


    Bart, looked a little chastened of all things, cleared his throat and nodded. ¡°Aye. I mean no offense, but¡­ well, you can not say it is not a valid concern, considering your¡­ situation.¡±


    ¡°Heh,¡± I chuckled, tilting my head back and staring up at the ceiling for a moment. Not today, I repeated. ¡°No, you¡¯re right, that¡¯s fair, and to answer your question: No, I don¡¯t know shit about what I¡¯m doing, Bart.¡±


    Bart¡¯s brow furrowed, clearly not having received the answer he¡¯d been expecting. Resting my chin in my palm and learning on the bar, I glanced sidelong at Felda, Elle and Mel again. At some point their conversation had turned to discussing the upcoming night¡¯s business, with Felda currently going over the menu. Elle noticed me looking their way and broke into a cute little smile, wiggling her fingers at me before returning her attention to Felda.


    ¡°You said so yourself. My ¡®situation¡¯ is that I¡¯m lost, and confused, and far from my home, and I don¡¯t know how just about anything works around here,¡± I said, sighing and closing my eyes. ¡°But, like I said, those two helped me come to a realization recently of just how much of my life up until now has been wasted on feeling awful for myself for what turned out to be no good reason. And since coming here and meeting them, and you, and Felda, that¡¯s finally starting to change.¡± Opening my eyes, I turned back to Bart, giving him my most genuine smile. ¡°So, even though I¡¯m scared, and there¡¯s a lot I don¡¯t know, I do know this; those two make me happy, and I want to make them happy back.¡±


    Bart sat in silence for several long moments after I wrapped up what wound up becoming something of a speech, eyes boring into me as he studied me, as if searching for something. Eventually, he reached for his mug, and slowly raised it to his lips, taking a long pull of whatever he¡¯d been drinking, continuing until he¡¯d drained it dry. Setting the mug back on the bar with a hollow, wooden thumb, he let out a satisfied sigh and smiled back at me.


    ¡°Well said, Sam,¡± Bart said simply, taking a sniff and running his hand across his beard to clear it of non-existent residue. ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t get in the way of your lessons, then I suppose I¡¯ve nothing else to be concerned about.¡±


    I let out a chuckle that quickly grew into a laugh that proved too infectious even for Bart to resist, though he did try to use his empty mug to hide it.


    ¡°Thanks, Bart,¡± I said after we¡¯d both settled back into our stools, leaning over the bar and resting on my elbows. ¡°For, well, for actually caring enough about me to ask something like that.¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bart shift in his seat, his posture suddenly stiff, and I worried briefly that what I¡¯d said had been just a bit too dour and brought the mood down. But then, Bart moved again, the arm that had frozen awkwardly at his side extending jerkily, and then I blinked in surprise as I felt his large hand come down between my ears.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Sam,¡± Bart said quietly, face turned forward as though all the bones in his neck had fused together. Clumsily, he lifted and then dropped his fingers three times in succession, then scratched at my head for a single second before retrieving his hand and crossing his arms, tucking it away into the folds of his coat like he was ashamed of it.


    I turned my head and stared, eyes narrowed and one eyebrow raised, up at Bart, who was once again looking for all the world like a statue, mouth set in a perfectly neutral line. It wasn¡¯t like I hadn¡¯t noticed that Bart seemed hesitant to follow Felda¡¯s lead in displaying affection for me via pats to the head, and I¡¯d kind of just chalked it up to being against his nature, or that he just didn¡¯t perceive me the same way she did, more like he was just my mentor and I was his student. So, for him to step outside of what I assumed was a pretty narrow comfort zone must have taken some real effort on his part, and I wanted to make sure he knew I appreciate it.


    But that also didn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t going to have some fun first.


    ¡°Five out of ten,¡± I said.


    Bart¡¯s brows twitched and he turned his head fractionally in my direction.


    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°I give that headpat a five out of ten. It wasn¡¯t the worst, but, it also wasn¡¯t the best either,¡± I said, crossing my arms and nodding sagely. ¡°Technique needs work.¡±


    Bart made a noise between a grunt and a sigh and dipped his head, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and fingers, while I snickered and reached up to pat him on the back.


    ¡°Anyway, speaking of my lessons,¡± I said, sitting up on my stool and slapping the surface of the bar. ¡°We should talk about what we¡¯re gonna do tomorrow, to make up for what I missed today.¡±


    ¡ö


    Sometime in between mine and Bart¡¯s planning for the day ahead, a yawn slipped out of my mouth, and Elle and Mel enjoyed a good bit of fun at my exasperation at the fact that I could even be tired when I still had a literal divine blessing refreshing my body. Bidding a quick and momentary goodbye to the four of them, I slid off to Felda¡¯s room for a nap, and once again woke up to the tavern absolutely bustling, full to bursting with pirates. Duke and Captain Zevrelos were there, and I made sure to pay their table a visit, just to chat.


    From there, the night progressed as it usually did, with a few notable differences. I sat with Bart in the corner booth, as usual, and enjoyed the dinner that Felda cooked for me, also as usual. Elle and Mel bustled around the tavern, Felda churned out dish after dish, and Viktor the bartender served drinks with his usual unwavering stoicism. The evening wore on, and eventually drew late, and when the patrons and pirates finally filed out into the night, I was on my feet before Elle could finish locking the doors, already helping to carry the last of the dishes from their tables to the kitchen. This time, it was Mel who I helped do the dishes, and we chatted as we worked, and when we were done we joined Elle and talked a bit longer, until Felda reminded me that the two of them needed a full night¡¯s sleep, unlike me. She paid them, and me, and before they departed I once again got a kiss to either cheek.


    As I settled onto the edge of Felda¡¯s bed and waited for her to finish changing out of her day clothes, I glanced over to the side table, where the brush had been left waiting the night before. It was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Felda,¡± I said, turning around when I felt her weight settle onto the bed.


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°Do you¡­ still have the brush?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh, ah, yes, I have it,¡± Felda said, her eyes widening for a fraction of a second, concern radiating off of her. ¡°But I put it away, you don¡¯t have to worry¡­¡± She trailed off as I shook my head, holding up a placating hand.


    ¡°I¡­ I want you to try again.¡± I said, swallowing and attempting to hide my nerves. ¡°Brushing my hair, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Sam¡­¡± Felda said, brow furrowing deeply. ¡°You don¡¯t need to force yourself, just give it time.¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± I said, insistently. ¡°I¡­ I know what it is that set me off last time. It wasn¡¯t the brush, not exactly, and knowing what I know now, I¡­ think I¡¯m capable of handling it.¡± Felda still seemed unconvinced, and I didn¡¯t blame her. I wasn¡¯t even sure I was convinced myself. ¡°Just, as long as you promise me that you¡¯d never¡­ do anything to my hair that I didn¡¯t ask you to do?¡±


    I could see the gears working behind Felda¡¯s eyes, clearly trying to slot some new information into her mental blueprint of me, before she jolted slightly and nodded, reaching forward to rest a hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°Of course, Samantha,¡± she said, softly but insistently, firmly holding my gaze. ¡°I would never, ever do anything like that, you have my word.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, resting my hand on top of hers and nodding.


    With her fears hopefully allayed, Felda stood up again and moved to her wardrobe, opening the wide doors and reaching inside. She withdrew the hair brush, and I did my best to lock my eyes onto it and take in every detail I could make out in the dim candlelight of the bedside lantern. It was such a simple, ordinary thing, and even though looking at it did stir loose the memories that had started this whole mess, I found that in light of recent events, those memories lacked the teeth they once had. The shame, and confusion, of my younger self not being able to comprehend the things I¡¯d been feeling had been replaced with understanding, and support. Elle and Mel knew the truth, and accepted me with wide open arms, and I no longer had any doubts that Felda would too, once I did finally tell her.


    Felda returned to the bed and once again sat beside me, and the thing held in her hands was a simple hair brush. Nothing more.


    ¡°Here,¡± Felda said, indicating the spot on the bed directly in front of her, rather than the short stool I¡¯d perched on the night before. I nodded, and slid into place with my back to her. ¡°I¡¯ll go slowly,¡± she said, and I nodded again, and one of her arms came down to wrap around my side. ¡°If you want me to stop, if you feel anything is wrong, don¡¯t be afraid to say so, or if you can¡¯t, just squeeze my hand as hard as you can, okay?¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, taking Felda¡¯s much larger hand in both of mine, holding it softly and just waiting for her to begin.


    I jumped slightly when she did finally touch the bristles of the brush to the back of my head, and she jerked away just as quickly, but I assured her I was still fine, and she once more brought the brush close. She worked slowly, even slower than she had before, and I could tell we were both holding our breaths like we were waiting for a bomb to go off, for me to make a repeat performance of the breakdown I¡¯d had last night.


    But it never came. Slowly, I stopped sitting with my back straight and my shoulders hiked up, a position that I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d adopted. I relaxed, leaning back against Felda, and actually started to enjoy the slow, deliberate movements of the brush gliding through my hair. The already feather-light grip I had on her other hand eased up until I fully let go, and she tentatively lifted it from my lap, using both hands now to work my hair, softly petting my head and nudging my ears as she went. Felda continued to regularly ask if I was still doing alright, but stopped when I closed my eyes and began to purr.


    I was asleep before Felda was finished brushing my hair, and that, too, would become the usual in the days and weeks that followed.

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.12.1

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 12


    ¡ö


    Felda¡¯s bed was, as always, warm and comfortable. Felda, herself, was also warm and comfortable, dozing peacefully beside me with one arm draped over me. The window was left open just a crack to let in fresh, cool night air that made the cozy confines of the blankets all that much more appealing. It was, objectively speaking, the perfect conditions for sleeping in.


    So it was with no small amount of frustration that I found myself staring up at the darkened ceiling of Felda¡¯s bedroom in the middle of the night, completely unable to fall back asleep. There was not an ounce of drowsiness left in my body, but instead an overwhelming and growing urge to get up and start moving around, and fast at that.


    ¡°Stupid¡­ cat brain¡­¡± I grumbled under my breath, losing track of the mental count I had going of how many minutes I''d spent trying fruitlessly to fall back asleep. There was no helping it; I needed to get up, and I needed to go run. I had made vague plans to start doing exactly that, so I supposed I should count myself lucky that this weird new urge, whatever it was, had waited until I was actually ready and able before it kicked in.


    I pondered the fortunate timing of that while I slowly and carefully slipped out from under Felda¡¯s arm and the blankets we shared, and slid off the far edge of the bed. Mindful of just how similarly things were playing out to the night before, I kept one ear trained on Felda¡¯s slow breathing the entire time I was getting re-dressed. Thanks to that, I caught the exact moment that Felda shifted in her sleep, noticing my absence even while unconscious, and heard her breath hitch sharply.


    ¡°I''m here,¡± I whispered, just as she started to sit up, appearing at the edge of the bed beside her.


    ¡°By the¡ª!¡± Felda jolted, then immediately caught herself and clamped her mouth shut. Holding a hand to her chest, she lowered her voice to a whisper and called out. ¡°Sam!¡±


    ¡°Sorry!¡± I said, trying with everything I had not to let the smile on my face be heard in my voice.


    ¡°I am seriously considering that bell again!¡± Felda said, sighing tiredly and turning to gaze in my general direction. ¡°What are you doing up again? Is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°Well, uh, no, nothing is wrong, exactly,¡± I said, reaching out to lightly rest my hand on Felda¡¯s upper arm. ¡°It¡¯s just that I¡­ I can''t get back to sleep at the moment. I need to¡­ well, I think I need to go run for a little bit.¡±


    ¡°Run? What, outside?¡± Felda asked, frowning, then made a noise of understanding. ¡°Oh, wait, yes, Bart mentioned this might happen occasionally¡­ a sort of moon-madness that causes nightly jitters, something like that?¡±


    Wait, what, really? So, now, on top of everything else, I was capable of coming down with a case of the late night zoomies? And what did that have to do with the moon?!


    I nodded, then remembered Felda probably still couldn''t see me, and said, ¡°Yeah, that.¡±


    ¡°Well, I suppose there''s no harm in it,¡± Felda said, finally starting to relax again, leaning back against the headboard of her bed and reaching up, first to pat my shoulder in return, and then my head. ¡°You can take the window again; I know I don''t have to tell you to be careful. I''ll have to see about getting an extra key to the back door made for you, if this is going to be a regular thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, okay, that''d be great,¡± I said, and after a momentary mental debate, leaned over and gave Felda a quick hug. It was still a surprise to me just how quickly I''d become accustomed to the physical contact after only a few days, but, what could I say? Hugs were nice.


    Felda returned the embrace tightly before allowing me to slip away, padding silently across the floor to the window. I eased it open, then paused with one leg up on the sill and turned back to Felda.


    ¡°I''ll seeya when I get back,¡± I said.


    ¡°Take care, Sam,¡± Felda replied with a tired smile, laying back down and lifting the blankets back over her. ¡°Enjoy your run, and please try not to get in trouble with the night guards.¡±


    The who? I had no idea what Felda meant, but I also didn''t want to ask more questions and drag this out even longer, so I just nodded and slipped out the window, closing it just enough that I¡¯d still be able to get my fingers into the gap when I returned.


    Standing up on the gently sloped awning outside of Felda¡¯s window, I took a deep breath of refreshing, salt-scented night air and walked to the edge, dropping down into the little gap between the Crooked Hook and the neighboring building.


    I considered the docks, but just as quickly ruled them out. As quiet as I could be, I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d be able to run on them without making a lot of noise, so I turned to the left instead and stepped out onto the moonlit streets behind Felda¡¯s tavern. The first thing I noticed was that there actually were street lamps here, ones I''d never had reason to notice during the day, but now stood out as oases of light amidst the dark of the night. They were simple metal poles, evenly spaced in rows and topped by glass walled lanterns with a wide, conical brim that funneled the light into a wide circle around the base of the pole. I could also see several orbs of differently colored lights flitting around the poles like insects, flashing like fireflies.


    ¡°Well, I guess I should just¡­ get going?¡± I said, my breath very faintly misting in the air. With a start, I snapped my fingers. ¡°Wait, no, better stretch first. Morgan would kill me if she found out I skipped that part.¡±


    Self-consciously checking either end of the street, I dropped into the quick warmup routine that Morgan had taught me during the short-lived period of time when I tried to get into martial arts along with her. I worked through the simple stretches, both seated and standing, then spent a minute loosening up my arms and shoulders, and finally finished off with some jumping jacks. To my surprise, I began to feel that same mysterious, invigorating standing-in-a-sunbeam-in-the-middle-of-a-field sensation that marked the blessing I''d received earlier, warming me up despite it being the dead of night.


    ¡°Huh, kinda thought that would¡¯ve worn off by now¡­¡± I said, scratching my head and looking up towards the sky, for lack of anywhere better to look, and called out, ¡°Uh, well, thanks!¡±


    With my preparations complete, I turned and started moving down the street at a brisk but careful walk. As effortlessly easy as it had been to get used to this new body so far, I didn¡¯t want to test my luck by trying to push it to its limits and wind up hurting myself. When I reached the first light pole, I picked up my speed, ramping up to a light jog, and then did so again at the next light, my hesitation evaporating like puddles after the rain in the face of just how good it felt to move.


    ¡°Wh¡­whoa!¡± I gasped, once again pulling myself back before I could reach top speed. I was actually finding it harder not to run full out, especially because that was exactly what my body seemed to want, but I knew I had to pace myself if I wanted this run to last.


    I was approaching the first intersection that connected this southernmost street with the village proper, moving at a decent clip, when a new ring of light spilled around the corner, followed shortly after by its source; three figures, walking side by side and each carrying a lantern. I recognized them, or rather, their uniforms; blue and green trimmed clothes under lightweight leather armor with a turtle stamped on the chest. They were the town guards I''d regularly caught glimpses of, passing by the watch tower in the morning with Bart.


    I had been slowing down slightly to take the upcoming turn, but was still moving too fast to avoid skidding to a stop and stumbling a little when their attentions all fixed on me, leaving me hunched forward grasping my knees and panting slightly.


    ¡°Halt! Who goes there!¡± barked one of the guards, a young gangly man with a short brown mop of hair cut in a way that I could only describe as ¡°scruffy,¡± raising his lantern higher while resting his other hand on the hilt of the short sword at his waist.


    ¡°Ah, pipe down, Rogers,¡± the woman standing in the middle of the group admonished, waving a hand in my direction. She seemed older than the other two, but it was hard to tell, because she was a dwarf, which put her closer to my height. Her skin was the color, and texture, of red sandstone, and was flecked with what looked like chunks of rubies. Her dark red hair was woven into a tight braid that was then piled high into a bun and pinned in place by two large pins. ¡°Ya¡¯ can see damn well who she is.¡± Turning to narrow her sharp eyes at me in scrutiny, she said, ¡°You¡¯re that cat lass that¡¯s had everyone in a tizzy the last few days, aintcha?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah, that¡¯s me,¡± I said through panting breaths, standing up straight and raising my hand to give a little wave. ¡°Name¡¯s Sam.¡±


    ¡°Captain Caroline Conneley, at your service, lass,¡± she said, giving me a little bow of her head, then nudging Jones with her elbow and motioning for him to lower his lantern. ¡°These disrespectful louts are my privates, Jones and Rogers.¡±


    ¡°Evening,¡± the third guard, who by process of elimination had to be Rogers, said. A cheerful-looking man about the same age as the first, with neatly trimmed blonde hair combed back over his head, he returned the wave and flashed me a sympathetic smile. ¡°Don''t mind the captain.¡±


    The captain, Caroline, stepped a little closer, tilting her head to the side and squinting her eyes at me. ¡°Now then, what¡¯s got you so out of breath?¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± I said, chuckling to ensure she didn¡¯t get the wrong idea. ¡°I was running.¡±


    ¡°Runnin¡¯?¡± Caroline asked, a frown forming on her face, her eyes flicking to the street behind me.


    ¡°Oh, no, no, I wasn¡¯t running from something,¡± I said, holding up my hands and shaking my head. ¡°No, I¡¯m running for, uh, exercise? Like, to get into shape, y¡¯know?¡±


    ¡°Ah!¡± the captain said, snapping her fingers and grinning. ¡°You¡¯re training, then? At this hour?¡± Glancing back over her shoulder, she called to the other two, ¡°Hear that, boys? You two could probably learn somethin¡¯ from this girl!¡±


    ¡°What, like how to lick our¡ª¡± Rogers began to mutter under his breath, but was cut off by Jones throwing his free arm around his shoulder, jostling him roughly.


    ¡°You said it, captain, that¡¯s some dedication!¡± Jones said, laughing in an obvious attempt to cover his partner¡¯s comment.


    ¡°Well, to be fair, I¡¯m only doing it this late because I¡¯m, uh, a catkin,¡± I said, motioning to my ears and giving one a quick flick. It really was a fun maneuver, and I often found myself just doing it from time to time for no real reason other than to feel the novel sensation. ¡°I''m like, partially nocturnal.¡±


    ¡°That a fact?¡± the captain asked, bringing a gloved hand up to her chin. ¡°Hmm, just like that owl lass who works at the paper store then. Heh, wish we had a couple more a¡¯ yer kind to fill out the ranks in the watch. It¡¯d make these night patrols a lot easier to schedule, fer one thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, come off it, captain,¡± Rogers said, swatting Jones¡¯ arm off his shoulder and stepping forward, motioning at me. ¡°She''s done up all in black in the middle of the night, ain''t that a bit suspicious?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, ya ain¡¯t wrong¡­¡± Caroline hummed, stroking her chin again before her eyes narrowed and a smirk spread across her face.


    ¡°Maybe she''s just out on business fer Lady Sera, eh?¡± she said, causing Jones to let out a groan. He wasn''t alone; I also snorted and rolled my eyes. That was twice in less than a day that I''d had to hear almost the exact same joke.


    Back at the temple, while we were visiting the alcove dedicated to Soliel and Sera, Mel had explained the odd thing that Fynn had said as he was leaving, about putting in a good word with the night goddess.


    ¡°It''s because of your new outfit,¡± she''d explained, tugging lightly on my shirt. ¡°Black cats are one of Sera''s symbols. It''s said they serve as her eyes and ears in the mortal world. If you see one at night, it''s considered good luck, and a good opportunity to offer a quick prayer if you''re one of her followers. You''re probably going to hear a lot of jokes like that over the next couple days.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ my fur is orange,¡± I''d protested, waving my tail in front of me.


    Mel just chuckled and shrugged. ¡°I said it was a dumb joke.¡±


    ¡°Still, though,¡± Caroline spoke again, bringing me back to the present. ¡°Ya¡¯ are a newcomer around here, so I s¡¯ppose a bit of due diligence is in order. Would ya mind, just for tonight, letting these two accompany ya for a while? If anythin¡¯, they''ll make sure none of the other patrols hassle ya, and I''ll get the word spread that ya ain''t up to no good.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, sure, I guess that''s alright,¡± I said, glancing at the pair.


    ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon, captain,¡± Rogers said, slumping forward and groaning dramatically.


    ¡°Oh hush,¡± Caroline said, turning around and slapping a slab-like hand on the sour-faced man''s back. ¡°A little extra runnin¡¯ won''t kill ya, and I¡¯ll treat you two to a hearty breakfast once your shift¡¯s up.¡±


    That seemed to get through to the man, and though he grimaced, he still brought his hand up to his temple in a lazy salute. ¡°Fine, fine, we¡¯ll watch the catgirl.¡±


    ¡°We''d be happy to accompany you, Miss Sam,¡± Jones said with a smile, also turning to give the captain a much snappier salute as she passed by, continuing on her way down the street I¡¯d just come from. That left me alone with the pair, and I cleared my throat, pointing up the street.


    ¡°Well, I was on my way up to the main street, so, follow me I guess,¡± I said, bouncing on the balls of my feet. I was itching, actually itching, to start moving again, and started walking as soon as they both looked ready to go. ¡°I''ll try not to go too fast or anything.¡±


    ¡°Psh, please,¡± Rogers scoffed, arching an eyebrow at me. ¡°With legs that short, I''d be surprised if we don''t leave you behind.¡±


    ¡°You''ll have to forgive him,¡± Jones said sympathetically, marching at my other side. ¡°He gets grumpy when he hasn''t had enough sleep. Plus, he¡¯s more of a dog person.¡±


    ¡°T-That''s got nothin¡¯ to do with it!¡± Rogers protested, his face flushing suddenly.


    Chuckling, I shrugged and started to pick up my pace again. ¡°That''s fair. S''not like I can argue; my legs are really fucking short.¡±


    It had not escaped my notice that even though Rogers stood a head taller than Jones, together the pair of them were both taller than me. In fact, aside from Nils, and now Caroline, I hadn''t met anyone else even close to my height yet. Not like I was complaining or anything. If Elle was to be believed, my diminished height was just another facet of my transformation at the hands of the gods, and if I were being truly, deeply, completely honest, I didn''t actually hate it.


    That didn''t mean I had to take the short jokes lying down, though.


    The pair of them were easily keeping up with me as I worked back up to a slight jog. I picked up the pace just enough to gain a lead on them, causing them to follow suit, shifting from a fast walk to an actual run. Glancing to either side, I found Jones giving me a broad smile, while Rogers¡¯ face was fixed into a determined frown. He caught me looking, and the frown deepened.


    Up ahead, the paved main street came into view through the night gloom, and I called out, ¡°Heads up, gonna turn right here.¡±


    A pair of grunts answered me, and as the packed earth gave way to stone, I swerved right and picked up speed again, leaving a growing gap between me and the two guardsmen.


    ¡°Oy!¡± Rogers squawked behind me, speaking between panting breaths. ¡°F-Fred¡­ stop ¡®er! She''s¡­ makin¡¯ a break for it!¡±


    ¡°I don''t know, Neil,¡± replied his partner in a more even tone, and I could hear the grin in it without even having to look. ¡°She''s pretty quick, I don''t know if I can catch her at this point.¡±


    Turning to look back over my shoulder, I couldn''t help but play along, cupping a hand around my mouth and shouting back, ¡°I''m gonna go commit so many crimes!¡±


    Felda¡¯s words, asking me not to get in trouble with the night guards, flashed across my mind. I was¡­ pretty sure this didn¡¯t count, right? We were just having a bit of fun, right?


    ¡°F-fuh¡­ fine! Hold my bloody lantern!¡± Rogers shoved the offending item into Jones¡¯ hand and broke into a full-on sprint.


    Yelping and laughing, I faced forward again and leaned into the wind, my arms and legs pumping as hard as they could to stay ahead. I had to hand it to Rogers; now that he''d gotten serious, he was actually gaining on me, judging by the way his heavy booted footfalls were steadily growing louder over the rush of blood in my ears.


    I almost decided to let him catch me, as I figured I was at my limit, but my body screamed otherwise, ensuring me that I could still go faster, still escape, but not like I was now.


    ¡°G-gotcha!¡± Rogers¡¯ voice came from directly behind me, and I felt a wash of deja vu as fingers brushed uselessly against the very tip of my tail. I caved, and let my body''s instincts take over, and I¡ª


    I tripped.


    At least, that¡¯s what I thought happened when I went pitching forward suddenly, my hands flying up in front of me. I braced myself to hit the street hard and go skidding across the stones, but instead, my body just transitioned smoothly to a loping, horizontal run, my torso perpendicular to the ground and my arms moving in sync with my legs. Panic gave way to shock, and then, elation, as I went barreling ahead, moving faster than I ever had.


    I''d only gotten a taste of it before, running from Duke, but it was shockingly easy to adjust to this strange new method of locomotion. Just like with using and manipulating my new appendages, or my suddenly increased acrobatic skills, it was like my muscles had memories that I didn''t. After only a few seconds where my body seemed to continue on autopilot, I found I was moving on my own again, as naturally as if I¡¯d been running like this since before I could walk.


    I was so caught up in the fascination of unlocking another new weird cat power that I almost missed that I was running out of road. Up ahead, a towering wooden archway was closing in, marking the ¡°entrance¡± of the village propper, and the point where the paved main street gave way to the wider dirt road that stretched away into the village outskirts and the countryside beyond. Not wanting to actually go speeding off into the horizon and leave the two guards behind, I started to slow down, pushing myself back to my feet and enduring a weird half second of vertigo as I half-ran half-stumbled into the archway, slumping against one of the wooden posts and panting hard.


    About half a minute later, Jones and Rogers finally caught back up with me, both panting as well, the latter¡¯s face completely red and drenched in sweat as he hung off the shoulders of the former.


    ¡°Yoooou¡­¡± Rogers gasped, pointing a shaky finger at me. ¡°You¡­ you¡­¡±


    ¡°Give him a minute,¡± Jones said, pushing a canteen into Rogers¡¯ shaking hand. The man cursed, but still accepted, unscrewing the cap and upending the container, taking big greedy gulps.


    Ah, shit, I¡¯d not thought to retrieve my canteen from my satchel before leaving. Something to remember for next time. Though, as luck would have it, situated on the first street corner after the archway was an oversized wooden barrel, sitting propped up at a slight angle in a four-wheeled cart. Bart had mentioned these and Elle and Mel had shown me a few of them; public water supplies, maintained and refilled regularly by the druids. Perfect.


    I made my way over on wobbly legs and bent down, wondering if I should try catching some water in my hands, or just hold my mouth open under the spigot, when Jones stepped up beside me, holding out a well-worn metal cup.


    ¡°Here, use this,¡± he said, and I nodded my head and wheezed my best thanks, taking it and quickly filling it from the tap, knocking back the ice cold water.


    ¡°Ooooh, that¡¯s good,¡± I groaned, taking several more cupfuls before I finally felt less like a wrung out towel. I filled the cup one more time and splashed it over my head, gasping and shuddering, and handed the cup back to Jones.


    ¡°Thanks again,¡± I said, brushing my hair back out of my face.


    ¡°You¡¯re most welcome,¡± he said, slipping the cup back into a loop on his belt.


    By now, Rogers had drained the entire canteen dry, and recovered his breath enough to quietly grumble, ¡°I woulda had you there ya lousy, cheatin¡¯...¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon Neil, be a good sport,¡± Jones said, walking over and slapping his friend on the back with a grin. ¡°You should just consider yourself lucky she didn¡¯t trick you into wagering coin after that pigheaded remark. You know you would¡¯ve taken that bet.¡±


    Oh, shit, he was right, I should have done that! Though, to be fair, I didn¡¯t know I had a secret turbo mode until now, but maybe next time¡­


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, fine,¡± Rogers huffed, passing the empty canteen back to Jones and clearing his throat, marching stiffly up to me and crossing his arms over his chest. He stared down at me, and I saw him making a concerted effort not to let it turn into a glare.


    For my part, I stared right back at him and did my best not to look smug, but between the catharsis of leaving him in the dust and the endorphins from running full tilt, it was difficult not to break into a full-on grin.


    ¡°Y¡¯got some slick moves, girl,¡± Rogers finally said, uncrossing his arms and sticking his gloved hand out. ¡°Suppose we should be glad you ain¡¯t actually a troublemaker, like some people ¡®round here think¡­ you ain¡¯t, right?¡±


    ¡°I have no plans to cause any trouble for anyone,¡± I said, reaching up to shake the offered hand. Well, except for Bentley and his jerk friends, but I probably didn¡¯t need to tell them that.


    ¡°Good, good,¡± Rogers said, clearing his throat again and looking around. ¡°So, are you plannin¡¯ on running any more tonight, because if so, I¡¯m just going to tell the captain we lost you and take the punishment.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hell no,¡± I said, laughing and reaching down to slap the sides of my legs. ¡°I think I burned off all the extra energy I needed to in one go, so I should probably start heading back home.¡±


    ¡°Oh, thank the gods,¡± Rogers sighed, holding his chest.


    ¡°Great!¡± Jones said cheerfully, pointing down the street. ¡°You live dockside, right? We¡¯ll accompany you back to South Street.¡±


    With that, we set off again, this time at a comfortable walking pace, back towards the first intersection. Conversation was light, as it seemed the exhaustion was catching back up not only to me, but Rogers as well. Jones still asked me a few innocent questions along the way though; how I liked the village so far, how the fishing was going, whether I¡¯d had any trouble getting acclimated to the area. That last one was slightly less innocent, as I could tell he was actually trying to fish (ha) for information on where I came from before arriving here, but thankfully I now had plenty of context to more effectively bluff my way through questions like that.


    Eventually we returned to the intersection and bid each other farewell, and I headed back towards Felda¡¯s tavern, feeling more and more ready to climb back into bed with every step. I was glad I¡¯d remembered to stretch, but I could tell I was still going to be feeling this in the morning. Reaching the side alley of the Crooked Hook, I was doubly glad for whoever left so many barrels strewn around this place for me to climb on, as I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d have been able to get back up to the roof without one.


    I crawled carefully back in through the window, changed back into my pajamas, and slid back into the bed, suppressing a satisfied groan at how great it felt to return to the warmth.


    ¡°Mmh¡­ welcome back,¡± Felda muttered sleepily without opening her eyes, making space for me under the blankets again. ¡°How was your run?¡±


    ¡°Good¡­¡± I whispered back, before an impressively wide yawn escaped me. I was feeling overly conscious of the fact that I¡¯d worked up quite a sweat out there, which in turn had me realizing I hadn¡¯t had any kind of a bath since I¡¯d arrived in this world, so I tried to leave a bit of an extra gap between myself and Felda, which she of course closed just by rolling over.


    ¡°A-ah, I didn¡¯t get to wash, I¡¯m sorry if I¡­¡± I tried to apologize, but Felda just let out a tired chuckle and brought a hand to rest on the top of my head.


    ¡°Sam, I¡¯ve smelled sailors that have spent months on a ship without dipping so much as a toe in the water,¡± Felda said, lazily scratching between my ears. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re used to different standards, but down here, people are a bit more forgiving, up to a point. But, if you¡¯re still worried, then maybe tomorrow you can ask the girls if they want to visit one of the bathhouses.¡±


    Oh¡­


    Right, those. I¡¯d almost forgotten, but Felda had mentioned the public baths, all the way back on my first day. I tried to tell myself at the time that that would be Future Sam¡¯s problem, but now Future Sam was Present Sam, and I was silently cursing Past Sam for not being proactive enough in searching for any possible alternatives to bathing in front of a bunch of strangers.


    Though, I wouldn¡¯t be going alone. Felda had been the one to suggest asking Elle and Mel, so it wouldn¡¯t even be that weird¡­ okay, no, it would still be weird, but maybe it would be less weird now than if we¡¯d gone for a bath together before they asked me out, but what did it say that our, what, first date was going end up with us all naked in a hot tub?


    I couldn¡¯t tell if I should be excited or terrified, and unfortunately I drifted off back to sleep before I could come to a decision.


    ¡ö


    I awoke, once again, to Felda¡¯s gentle urging that Bart would arrive soon. Sure enough, I was feeling that unmistakable muscle ache that came after a strenuous workout, mostly in my legs but also in my back and arms as well, as I stretched out across the oversized bed. While Felda left to go whip up a quick breakfast, I rolled over onto my feet and got dressed, then went searching for my satchel and the journal inside it.


    Since I finally knew what all the days of the week were, and mostly how the calendar worked, I¡¯d decided to make a habit out of manually keeping track of the days until I could remember and recall them intuitively. Counting backwards from today, which was ¡°Colday the fourteenth, first-quarter of summer,¡± I noted and wrote out the previous three days I¡¯d spent in this world until I reached what was technically my first night, even if I was unconscious for all of it. The evening of Serday the tenth, when I¡¯d fallen from the sky, landed in the ocean, and been dragged out by Bart.


    ¡°Huh¡­ wonder if that makes that my new birthday, or something,¡± I muttered to myself as I stared at the page, a mix of still-unfamiliar words and terms and snatches of Elle and Mel¡¯s explanations from the day before. My old birthday was in spring, but there was no possible way I could match up that date with one from this world, so maybe I should have a date in mind in case anyone ever asks. Then again, I didn¡¯t know if people here even celebrated birthdays the same way.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Sighing, I stowed my journal and finished getting dressed, grumbling a little at every minor twinge in my muscles. As Morgan would say, that was just the feeling of them healing, coming back stronger and ready to be pushed even harder next time, and for once that thought actually kind of excited me. I still felt like I had pitifully shallow stamina reserves, but I could already pull off some incredible feats of reflexes and acrobatics, so the thought of getting even better filled me with determination.


    Bart was as quiet as ever as we both wolfed down our breakfasts, to Felda¡¯s mild disapproval. We departed the tavern for the bait shop, intent on following the plan Bart and I had discussed the night before.


    ¡°Only a few minnows today,¡± Bart told Hubert, who set about filling our bucket while Bart led me over to the left side wall of the shop, where the wall was taken up by various glass tanks containing an abundance of things that wriggled and squirmed.


    ¡°As I said, today you¡¯ll be hunting for different prey, and for that you¡¯ll need different bait,¡± Bart said, producing several empty metal tins, like the one he kept his trail mix in. ¡°You¡¯re doing well with the perch already, but we¡¯ll stick to panfish for now. That lake is also home to green solfish, pumpkinseed, bluegill, and rock bass, and no matter which one you¡¯re after, you can¡¯t go wrong with the humble worm.¡±


    Bart handed me the tins and had me hold one up while he used a metal scoop to gather up a small mass of worms and soil from three of the tanks, while explaining, ¡°We¡¯ll bring a bit of each of the three most common varieties; red, brown, and black.¡±


    ¡°Does the color actually make that much of a difference?¡± I asked, leaning slightly away as Bart topped off the container with another scoop of dirt, then replaced the lid with one that had air holes punched in it.


    ¡°No,¡± Bart said, chuckling. ¡°Most fish aren¡¯t particularly picky eaters, not until you start hunting for specific rare breeds and subspecies, but at your level you¡¯re mostly going to be handling minnows, worms, and¡±¡ªBart took a step down the line, patting the lid of a closed metal box¡ª¡°grubs. Like these brown moth larvae here.¡±


    ¡°Blegh,¡± I said, already scrunching up my face in anticipation as Bart lifted the lid, showing me the dark interior of the box, which swarmed with hundreds of tiny pinkish grubs. ¡°A lot less appetizing than the minnows.¡±


    ¡°Well, you say that¡ª¡± Bart began, and I jabbed a clawed finger at him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you even dare!¡±


    Chuckling in a way that did not at all set my mind at ease, Bart filled another of the empty tins with a small scoopful of grubs. This was starting to feel like the toppings station at the world¡¯s worst ice-cream bar.


    ¡°Well, that should be enough for today,¡± Bart said, pocketing the filled tins and turning to head back to Hubert for our minnows, but I stopped him again.


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, holding up a hand and scanning the row of tanks. Bart turned back, looking at me curiously, and I shook my head. ¡°I know we still have a lot of time before the competition, but¡­ I need to get better, faster. I wanna try for something bigger than a panfish today too.¡±


    Bart spent a moment studying me, and I was almost certain he was about to refuse, to tell me it was unwise to push myself or something like that. Instead, a rare smile appeared on his face and he turned and called out, ¡°Hubert? Would you fetch us some chicken livers too?¡±


    ¡°Y¡¯think she¡¯s ready for that?¡± Hubert asked, turning and bending down to reach for something behind the counter without waiting for an answer.


    ¡°We¡¯ll find out, I suppose,¡± Bart said, glancing back at me. I tried my best to give him a determined glare, but his amused chuckle told me it probably still needed work.


    Hubert returned from behind the counter, revealing a bundle of fleshy, reddish-brown lumps in a frost-coated container. He separated out a small pile and wrapped them in a strip of cloth before passing it off to Bart, who in turn dropped it into another tin.


    ¡°What¡¯re those for?¡± I asked, accepting the minnow bucket from Hubert, thankful that it was feeling a little bit lighter today.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± Bart said, annoyingly enigmatic, and I rolled my eyes as heavily as I could.


    I spent the first third of the walk out to the river needling Bart to just tell me the answer, but he was determined to keep it a mystery, so I gave up, and instead focused on just putting one foot in front of the other and not spilling the bait bucket. Arriving at the lake, we set up quickly, Bart filling the ice chest while I retrieved my rod and checked that nothing looked out of place, mostly making sure my line hadn¡¯t twisted or started to tangle. The sight of Bart using magic to produce the ice again did briefly distract me, now that I knew more about how magic worked, but I shook it off; I had fishing to focus on!


    ¡°Let¡¯s start with what you already know,¡± Bart said, standing and ushering me towards the edge of the lake. ¡°Bring in a few perch to get yourself warmed up, then we¡¯ll switch to the worms and I¡¯ll tell you about the new fish as you go.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± I said, kneeling over the bait bucket. Inspired by last night¡¯s run, I paid particular attention to the way I moved my arm and tensed my fingers as I plunged my hand into the cold water and plucked one startled minnow from the pack with no more difficulty than picking up a dropped quarter. I was now fairly confident that I could pull that move off with anything, not just fish, but now wasn¡¯t the time to test that. I sat on the ice chest and baited my hook, then cast my rod near the far edge of the lake and sat back to wait for my first bite of the day.


    Bart and I sat in comfortable silence as the first bite came and went, along with the second and third. I reeled in each perch with a short, but satisfying fight. As much as I was still enjoying myself, I was quickly coming to realize that, as ridiculous as it seemed, I wasn¡¯t feeling as challenged by the smaller fish as I had been at the start. I was glad I¡¯d be going for a few different types today, but the thing I was most looking forward to was whatever those chicken livers were for.


    ¡°Hey, Bart,¡± I said as I handed off yet another perch for him to spike. I was up to six already, and the sun had just barely begun to rise, but my arms also needed a bit of a break, so I¡¯d laid my rod down and took a seat in the grass.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Bart hummed as he quickly and efficiently pierced the fish¡¯s skull, adding it to the growing pile on top of the ice.


    ¡°I¡­ well, there¡¯s two things I wanted to talk about, and I can''t decide which one to start with,¡± I said, turning away to pull the bait bucket over, lifting the lid to peer inside. ¡°I wanted to¡­ ask you for some advice, but also confess something, and I honestly can¡¯t tell which order to do those in.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Bart said at my back, since I was still looming over the minnows. I¡¯d grabbed one already, intent on having just a quick snack to settle my nerves, but, well, that was three minnows ago. I heard movement, then Bart appeared, walking around the bucket and taking a seat across from me.


    ¡°Is this confession something you think will¡­ anger me?¡± Bart asked casually, reaching into the bucket as well and snagging a minnow for himself, popping it into his mouth and chewing deliberately.


    ¡°Mmh¡­ maybe? At least a little bit?¡± I said, shrugging. The fact that I actually had no idea how upset Bart or Felda would be to hear I''d been eavesdropping on them for days was part of what made the prospect of telling either of them so scary. But, I promised Elle and Mel, so, here I was.


    ¡°Then start with that,¡± Bart said, nodding and scooping another minnow from the bucket. Honestly, of all the bizarre changes I''ve taken in stride, casually scarfing raw minnows was one of the last things I ever expected I¡¯d get used to.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked, and Bart chuckled.


    ¡°Sam, I will admit, I¡¯ve been surprised by you before, but unless I¡¯ve grievously misjudged your character I have serious doubts that you¡¯re about to tell me something that will truly upset me,¡± Bart said, waving his hand in the air.


    Eh. He was probably right. I''d seen Bart''s temper tested, but I suspected it would take a lot more than this to really make him snap.


    ¡°Well, alright,¡± I said, shrugging and leaning back in the grass. ¡°So¡­ you know a little bit more about catkin than some people, right?¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± Bart said evenly, though I noticed his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly, the muscles in his face tensing.


    ¡°Then, you know that our hearing is¡­ better than a human¡¯s, right?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Bart said, nodding again, then after a moment of consideration, he continued, ¡°that¡¯s a good general rule of thumb for all¡­ ah, almost all demihumans, that one or more of their senses are superior to the human baseline.¡± He seemed finished at that, but then hastily added, ¡°Not that I think humans ought to be considered the baseline, of course, just, I''m a human.¡±


    ¡°Right, right,¡± I said, nodding along like I actually had a clue what he was talking about. ¡°Well, the thing is, a catkin''s hearing is actually¡­ even better than you might think.¡± I still had my eyes on Bart''s face, and I caught the exact moment the revelation came to him.


    ¡°Perhaps good enough, even, to hear a hushed conversation from a room away?¡± Bart asked, his brow slowly furrowing.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± I said, biting my lip and starting to drum my fingers on the rim of the bait bucket. ¡°Perhaps multiple conversions¡­ over the past few days¡­¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± Bart said distantly, his eyes drifting to a point somewhere above my head. For the moment, he didn''t seem to be upset. In fact, he almost seemed like he hadn''t heard me at all, or like he was suddenly distracted by something else. With a snap, he shook his head and looked down at me again. ¡°Ah, sorry, I¡­ So, you''ve been listening in on Felda and I, is that what you''re saying?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± I said, tilting my head slightly at his odd behavior.


    ¡°And how much have you heard?¡± Bart asked, which was not what I expected his followup to be. Something in his tone sent a shiver racing down my spine.


    ¡°What?¡± I blinked, and scratched at the side of my head. ¡°Uh, I don''t know? It was mostly just whenever you two would go into the kitchen to talk about me?¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Bart said, his posture shifting subtly again, his shoulders lowering and his back becoming less rigid. ¡°Is that all?¡±


    I brought a hand to my forehead and ran it through my hair, blowing out a breath through my lips.


    ¡°I¡­ I''m sorry, did we miss a step? I feel like you''re supposed to be telling me off for doing something wrong here, but you¡¯re not.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, of course,¡± Bart said, clearing his throat a few times. ¡°It is¡­ very rude to eavesdrop on people, Sam, and you¡­ did the right thing coming clean.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at him again, my mouth pulling into a tight line. He¡­ he sounded like he was reading from a half-remembered script!


    ¡°You don''t actually believe that at all, do you?¡± I asked, crossing my arms and giving him my most skeptical look.


    ¡°Of course I do,¡± Bart said, deftly avoiding my gaze. ¡°It is very impolite to spy on people, but I understand you must have had your reasons, yes?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ Well, the first time I did it it was mostly an accident,¡± I said, tilting my head back to look up at the sky, which was steadily gaining more and more color. ¡°I woke up in a weird house, surrounded by strangers, and thought that any information I might be able to glean from listening in on you two would come in handy, but that doesn''t really justify all the other times, does it?¡±


    ¡°Sam,¡± Bart said, drawing my attention back to him. ¡°I think, given your circumstances, you did what you felt was right at the time to keep yourself safe, and I cannot blame you for that. Were I in your position, I would likely do the same.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, looking down into the bucket again, just watching the minnows swim in little circles. For some reason, I didn''t feel particularly like eating any more at the moment. There was an obvious question burning away in the back of my mind, and part of me wanted to just suffer the curiosity, but another part of me was pretty sure not asking would be the worse option.


    ¡°I kind of get the feeling that you¡¯re only taking it this well because¡­ there¡¯s something else you thought I heard that I didn¡¯t?¡± I said, hesitantly.


    ¡°Ah, well spotted.¡± Bart chuckled, and again, it did less to put me at ease than it should have. He spent several uncomfortably quiet seconds staring at the distant treeline and mulling over his response, before looking me dead in the eyes and saying, ¡°Sam, you haven''t lied to me, so I will not lie to you; there are certain topics of discussion between Felda and I that, had you overheard, we would be having a very different conversation right now.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah, I kinda figured that,¡± I said, nodding, wishing my tail would stop flicking nervously behind me. It''s not like I was scared of Bart, but it was like being unable to stop tapping your foot when you¡¯re bored. ¡°You kind of gave it away there. Well, I already told Elle and Mel I wouldn''t misuse this, and I planned to make the same promise to you and Felda, but now I want to be extra sure I don''t want to overhear whatever dark secrets you two have, especially with how¡­ patient you¡¯ve both been.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, Felda will need to know¡­¡± Bart hummed, bringing a hand to his stubbled chin and furrowing his brow. ¡°When were you planning to tell her?¡±


    ¡°After this, or later tonight if I''m too tired when we get back.¡±


    ¡°Would you be alright if I spoke to her first?¡± Bart asked, and I furrowed my brow. Noticing my hesitation, he added, ¡°I think it would go smoother if she knows ahead of time that you heard nothing of any real consequence.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ yeah, that''s probably a good idea.¡± I sighed and, since I was already supposed to be planning to visit the bathhouse later, flopped backwards onto the grass. ¡°Damn, and here I thought that was going to be the easier topic.¡±


    ¡°Indeed?¡± Bart let out another, much less bone chilling chuckle across from me. ¡°Well, I am sorry if I frightened you, Sam, but I did not wish to coddle you either. I would understand if you no longer wish to ask for my advice.¡±


    ¡°Eh¡­ it''s fine.¡± I spoke while staring up at the still brightening sky, shrugging my shoulders. ¡°It''s not like I''ve been an open book either, but, I think we can just¡­ move past this.¡± Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I tried to mold the ambiguous blob of worries and hesitation I''d been carrying around for most of the morning into an actual question.


    ¡°Bart, this might be a¡­ weird thing to ask, but¡­ is it normal to get naked and take a bath with two people you just started a relationship with?¡±


    Bart let the question hang in the air for a full ten seconds, before asking, ¡°Could you be more specific? I understand you''re referring to Elle and Mel and your recently established¡­ situation, and presumably you plan to ask them to accompany you to the local public baths at some point, but I don''t see which part of that strikes you as¡­ ¡®not normal.¡¯ As I understand it, that is a fairly common practice in this nation.¡±


    ¡°Ooookay¡­¡± I sighed the word out, sitting up with a grunt and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. I closed my eyes and just wondered for a moment if maybe I should''ve asked Felda, actually, but part of me figured it would go even worse with her.


    ¡°I guess you could say that sort''ve answers my question,¡± I said, opening my eyes and looking up at Bart. ¡°Up until now I''ve just been kind of assuming based on context that people¡­ around here are pretty comfortable with casual nudity in certain spaces, and I guess that confirms it.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Bart made a noise of understanding, his eyes lightening. ¡°And you are uncomfortable with that prospect?¡±


    ¡°You could say that, yeah,¡± I said, still rubbing my forehead. ¡°Even though I know it¡¯s mostly a¡­ cultural difference, I can¡¯t ignore the fact that I haven¡¯t taken a bath with another person since I was¡­ I don¡¯t know, three?¡± I did feel kind of stupid for making such a big deal out of this. Hell, I even knew that this wasn¡¯t just a consequence of coming to another world, I had heard of countries back on Earth with communal bathing before. That still didn¡¯t help me be any less nervous.


    ¡°There¡¯s also the fact that, well, I¡¯m dating them now, and I don¡¯t know the first thing about, uh, courtship or whatever you call it here, but where I came from people who are going out don¡¯t usually see each other naked until they¡¯re ready to, uh¡­¡± I trailed off as I ran out of steam, my nerves getting to me, and I buried my face in my hands. Could I not just focus on fishing for one day?


    Bart cleared his throat again and I felt one of his hands land on my shoulder, lifting me from my hunched over position. ¡°Sam,¡± he said, his face contorted uncomfortably. ¡°I¡­ cannot claim to be a master of social conventions myself. Where¡­ I came from, courtship carries with it many firm rules and hidden intricacies that would seem stiflingly restrictive to someone from Torgard. In Kurma, it gets so hot, especially during the summers, that many people wear as little as possible, while in Yuusha, it would generally be considered impolite to show too much bare skin in public, no matter what the temperature.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I get it,¡± I said, nodding slowly. He was basically explaining what I already knew, just framed through the lens of this world instead of my own. ¡°Cultures are different everywhere so there¡¯s no such thing as ¡®normal,¡¯ right?¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± Bart said, lifting his hand from my shoulder and, with noticeable hesitation, moving to pat my head once before drawing back again. ¡°Though, more to the point, you would not be alone in this world for feeling reluctant to bathe among strangers, even if that is considered unusual here. If that is your main concern, you can still request a private bath; even the meager facilities here in Rower¡¯s Rest have those, though you¡¯ll need to pay more for the luxury.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I asked, sitting up straighter, and Bart nodded with a slight smile on his face.


    ¡°Indeed. As for Elle and Mel, well, I¡¯ll admit I don¡¯t know the first thing about elven arrangements, but they seemed keen on preserving your comfort above all else, so you could simply go without them.¡±


    Huh¡­


    ¡°That¡­ hadn¡¯t occurred to me,¡± I said, staring off to the side and furrowing my brow. He was totally right, I¡¯d been counting on having Elle and Mel¡¯s support, but now that I knew the bathhouses had private rooms, I could actually just go by myself, but¡­ well¡­ well it wasn¡¯t like I hated the idea of going with the pair either!


    ¡°I think I have a whole new problem now, Bart,¡± I said with a heavy sigh, pushing myself to my feet. ¡°But I also think I¡¯ve gotta solve this one on my own, and we¡¯ve wasted enough time already. Those fish aren¡¯t gonna catch themselves.¡±


    Bart laughed as he followed me to his feet. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit. Take a seat, and I¡¯ll show you how to bait a worm.¡±


    ¡°Aye aye,¡± I said, grinning, and returned to the ice chest where I¡¯d left my rod. I sat and Bart dug the tin of worms out of the tackle box, bringing it over to me and popping the lid. The rich scent of damp earth greeted me as Bart dug into the dark soil and pulled out a fat brown worm.


    ¡°There are two common methods of baiting a worm,¡± Bart began, kneeling on one knee before me with the worm in one hand and my hook in the other. ¡°We¡¯ll focus on the easier method today, known as ¡®threading¡¯ the worm. You¡¯ll start by taking the head¡ªthat¡¯s the darker, pointer end here¡ªand piercing it with the hook.¡± Bart did so, sliding the now speared head of the worm slightly down the curve of the hook before continuing. ¡°Next, you¡¯ll want to do the same a little further down the length of its body, and continue until most of its length is supported by the hook, leaving just a bit left at the end to dangle and attract the fish¡¯s attention. Depending on the size, you may need to thread it more or less times, but three to five is the usual.¡±


    I watched as Bart repeated what he¡¯d done with the worm¡¯s head further down it¡¯s body, and when he finished the worm was held bent in the shape of an ¡°S¡± with extra curves, running along the length of the hook with a bit of its tail still miraculously wriggling from the very base of the hook¡¯s first barb.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ really glad I know worms have even less of a brain than the minnows,¡± I said at the still somewhat grisly setup.


    ¡°As I¡¯ve said, we do our best to cause only the harm that is necessary,¡± Bart said, using a rag from his pockets to wipe the dirt from his fingers. ¡°The fact that you are still concerned, if even a little, for the wellbeing of something as simple as this worm is a good thing, Sam.¡±


    Well, I couldn¡¯t, and didn¡¯t really want to, argue with that so I just sat up, raised my arms, and cast the worm into the center of the lake.


    As I settled in to wait for the first sign of a bite, I felt my mind trying to return to the issue of the baths, and quickly shoved those worries away again, giving myself over to the quiet, meditative state of heightened anticipation that was the core of fishing to me. I breathed slowly, taking in the drifting scents of nature all around me, listened to the gentle burbling of the river on either side of the pond, and let my eyes glide aimlessly across the surface of the water.


    Over the course of the next hour or so, I became acquainted with all four new types of fish Bart had named at the bait shop. The green solfish looked pretty similar to the yellow perch, with its green and black striped body, except more squat and compact, and its top fin was shorter than the perch¡¯s. The pumpkinseeds did in fact resemble the teardrop-shaped seeds of their namesake, and the male¡¯s scales were a brilliant, iridescent orange and blue, while the females tended to be paler. The bluegill wasn¡¯t as blue as I¡¯d been expecting, more of a cobalt gray with a white underbelly, but Bart told me they got more blue as they aged. Lastly, the rock bass, which was actually just another name for the black perch Bart mentioned before, was the hardest of the new fish to land. Not because they wouldn¡¯t bite, but because it managed to put up a much more impressive fight than anything else that morning. When I finally pulled in my first rock bass, Bart actually congratulated me, as the specimen I¡¯d snagged was pushing the boundaries of what could still be considered a ¡°panfish,¡± weighing close to three pounds by his estimation.


    I know, three pounds doesn¡¯t sound like much, but that¡¯s a lot for a fish!


    ¡°Well,¡± Bart said as he finished spiking the rock bass I¡¯d spent the last few minutes fighting to wear out, adding it to the ice chest, which was now layered with almost twenty fish across five different species. ¡°I¡¯d say you¡¯ve more than made up for yesterday.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not done yet,¡± I said, even as I massaged some life back into my sore arms. Bart looked at me dubiously, but I held up one arm and did my best to flex hard enough to make my meager muscles visible. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, just give me a couple of minutes!¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Bart said with a smile, settling back in the grass. ¡°I promised to let you try for something more impressive, so I shall. Let me know when you¡¯re feeling recovered enough, but be warned, this will be no easy fight.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± I said. I continued to flex and twist and shake my arms out, then sat for a few minutes and just caught my breath. Bart pulled out his snacks; the trail mix, that I refused to call scroggin, and the jerky, and we shared a few mouthfuls. The sun was well and truly risen by now, even if we were still shaded by the far off mountain ranges that rose up beyond the forests surrounding the village. Mountain ranges that, I realized, were probably part of the shell of the giant turtle that this island was apparently formed from the back of. I hadn¡¯t explored to the west of Rower¡¯s Rest very much yet, but I had seen that the very same mountains that hemmed in the bay on the east also continued off into the west.


    ¡°Bart, d¡¯you mind if I ask another weird question?¡± I asked, swallowing my last mouthful of jerky.


    ¡°Those seem to be the only type of questions you ask, so, go ahead,¡± Bart said, tucking the tins back into his coat pockets.


    I chuckled at that and nodded. ¡°Alright¡­ so, Torgard¡¯s a big turtle, right?¡±


    For one terrifying nanosecond, my longstanding fear that I¡¯d somehow let myself fall for an insanely elaborate prank reared its ugly head, before Bart answered, ¡°Yes?¡±


    I held back my sigh of relief and continued on to my actual question.


    ¡°Right, well, I couldn¡¯t help but notice those mountains, and how we¡¯re on the coast here, so¡­ are we right on top of one of the legs, or something?¡±


    I had yet to look at a map of Torgard itself, but thinking about the placement of things, I had started to assume.


    ¡°They¡¯re actually flippers, but, yes,¡± Bart said, one eyebrow slightly raised. ¡°Rower¡¯s Rest is one of only four coastal towns on Torgard, each one situated at an opening in the shell, above one of its flippers. That¡¯s also why those same four towns play host to the Midsummer Fishing Festival for all of their neighboring towns and villages as well.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, blinking in surprise. If Rower¡¯s Rest was one of only four spots to safely enter the island from ,that explained a couple things, like why the docks seemed so large even though there didn¡¯t seem to be that much through traffic, and why there were so many different businesses and taverns right up on the docks themselves. That just left one more question.


    ¡°Which flipper is it, then?¡±


    Bart laughed and looked at me curiously. ¡°The back right, why?¡±


    ¡°Eh, just curious,¡± I said, shrugging and standing up, gently slapping one of my biceps. ¡°Alright, I think I¡¯m as ready as I¡¯m gonna get, so what¡¯s this mystery fish I¡¯m after?¡±


    Bart¡¯s smile grew until I could actually see teeth, and he reached into the tacklebox, retrieving the tin with the chicken livers and giving it a shake. He opened the lid and poked his fingers in, withdrawing one of the pink, fleshy lumps.


    ¡°I thought it¡¯d be the perfect prey to move you up to something more challenging,¡± Bart said, turning and underhand tossing the chicken liver onto the surface of the water. I expected him to continue, but it soon became clear he was pausing for what I realized was dramatic effect, so I just turned and kept my eyes on the gently bobbing piece of meat.


    Time stretched on, and just when I was about to ask Bart what exactly we were waiting for, the stillness of the water was shattered by a fish about as long as my forearm leaping out of it. Its body was mainly white, but broken up by splotchy blobs of orange and black, and at first I thought it was some kind of huge koi fish, but then I took in the rest of the details. Trailing from either side of the fish''s wide mouth were two pairs of whiplike tendrils, or whiskers. I could clearly see its eyes: huge, green, and vertically slitted. Just like mine, actually. And there were two extra triangular fins jutting out from the top of its head that resembled¡­ a cat''s ears¡­


    I stood, speechless, as time seemed to resume and the fish flopped back into the water with a splash. Beside me, Bart clapped a hand onto my shoulder, and when I turned to look up at him he looked as pleased as I¡¯d ever seen him.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, you¡¯re going to be hunting catfish!¡±


    I stared up at Bart, while he grinned back at me, and it took everything I had not to turn my eyes skyward and shout ¡°What?!¡± at the universe itself.


    I''d seen pictures of catfish before, of course, so I knew the only parts of the creature I''d just seen that lined up with its Earth counterpart were the general size and shape, and the whiskers. Otherwise, it was more like¡­ a ridiculous joke version of a literal catfish, like it had been purpose built that way on purpose for laughs. Which, I realized, was entirely possible.


    ¡°Cat¡­ fish¡­¡± I mumbled, glancing back at the water again. Bart''s cheerful demeanor immediately diminished, and he actually looked worried.


    ¡°I am sorry, that was intended to be a joke, have I¡­ offended you again?¡± Bart asked, which finally broke through my stupor.


    ¡°N-no,¡± I said, failing to hold back a snort of laughter, my head falling into my hands, speaking between alternating laughs and groans. ¡°No, no, that''s¡­ that''s hilarious Bart, it just¡­ just took me a second to realize you did it on purpose, ugh¡­¡±


    In retrospect, it was kind stupid of me to assume that after three or four days that I had run out of ways to be surprised, by either Bart or the world itself.


    ¡°Ahh¡­¡± I sighed, getting ahold of myself again and turning back to Bart. ¡°Thanks, I needed that. So, how do I go about catching some catfish?¡±


    ¡°Let''s aim for one catfish first,¡± Bart said, motioning me back over to the tacklebox. ¡°As adept as you''ve proven at catching panfish, I would be surprised, pleasantly surprised, mind, but still surprised, if we return to the village with more than a single catfish.¡±


    ¡°They''re that tough to catch, huh?¡± I asked, kneeling down beside Bart as he took a knee and opened the box.


    ¡°They are a decent challenge, but the trouble is not in landing one on the hook; they''re quite aggressive predators, but the real difficulty lies in trying to get one to shore without snapping your line or losing your rod.¡± Bart explained as he pulled a new fish hook from one of the compartments, one that was larger than the one I was currently using. Holding the new hook between his teeth, he used his knife to cut the old hook from the end of the line, then re-tied the knot with the larger hook, and kept speaking all the while. ¡°I''ll stick close to you in case I need to cut your line or grab onto you, so you just focus on the fight once it starts.¡±


    ¡°Uh, got it,¡± I said, glancing warily at the surface of the lake while Bart tied on the new hook. Sure, that fish had been big, but would it really be that strong?


    ¡°Alright, you''re all set,¡± Bart said, standing up and retrieving the tin of chicken livers from his coat, passing it to me. ¡°Just bait, cast, and then hold on.¡±


    I nodded, taking the metal container and approaching the shoreline with Bart in tow. I dug one of the unsettling clammy bits of raw flesh out of the tin and slid it into the hook, then passed them back to Bart. Then, with my heart starting to beat faster from the anticipation alone, I spread my feet, squared my shoulders, and cast my line out onto the lake. Based on what I''d seen before, I expected an instant reaction, but the water remained undisturbed. I continued to wait, and the tension in my muscles continued to climb, to the point that I nearly screamed when Bart placed a hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°Don''t forget to breathe, Sam,¡± Bart said, and the breath I hadn''t realized I''d been holding came out of me in a rush.


    ¡°Thank¡ª¡±


    That was all I managed to get out before my bobber disappeared completely beneath the surface, and my arms were yanked straight out in front of me. Only my death grip on the rod kept it from flying out of my hands, and after a second, I was able to dig my heels into the dirt and yank back on the handle. I felt the line give slightly as the hook was set, causing whatever was on the other end of my line to completely flip out.


    ¡°You''ve got it hooked, now focus!¡±


    I was gritting my teeth too hard to respond, my right hand working the reel as fast as I could to keep the thoroughly pissed-off fish from snapping my rod in half. It swam hard to the left, then jerked right, then back again, and I did my best to keep pace with it every time it changed directions, shuffling up and down the length of the shore, pulling back on the line whenever I could.


    Then, something completely unexpected happened.


    The fish turned, and I felt all tension leave the line as it began to swim towards the shore, towards me. I was confused, but not so much that I forgot to start reeling in the slack, not wanting to give it a chance to spit the hook.


    ¡°Wait, what is it¡­¡± Bart¡¯s voice sounded far away, his outline shifting in my peripheral vision, but I didn¡¯t dare take my eyes off the rapidly approaching ripple. Every sense I had seemed to have been cranked up to eleven, focused entirely on the fish, and lucky for me or I would have had my head caved in by what came next.


    The fish on my line leapt from the water, and it was definitely another catfish, but it also looked distinctly different from the first one; instead of white, its body was sleek and black, and as it flipped through the air several patches of gold-colored scales caught the first rays of sunlight that had begun to peek over the horizon. It was actually pretty damn majestic, like looking at a painting.


    Then, I noticed the massive pillar of mud that had followed the catfish out of the water, flowing through the air behind it as though it were attached to its tail. I watched, slack-jawed, as the catfish spun in place, suspended in the air, while the wave of mud collected itself into a ball, around which it began to orbit. All of the water was forced out of the floating orb of dirt, leaving behind a rock the size of a watermelon. With one more flick of its tail, the catfish sent the rock hurtling through the air, straight towards me.


    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± I shouted, dropping into a crouch and ducking under the rock just in time to avoid getting my face smashed in. The rock whistled over my head, striking the ground behind me and digging out a narrow trench in the dirt before coming to a stop in a small crater. I gasped for breath and stood as the catfish flopped back into the water, starting to struggle against the line once more.


    ¡°I don''t believe it,¡± Bart gasped from beside me, seeming to need a moment to compose himself as well, before he snapped back to full attention, suddenly grabbing onto my shoulder, a knife appearing in his free hand. ¡°Sam, we need to cut your line, now!¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡± I leaned away from him reflexively, already working the reel again, struggling to hold on while the catfish tried to flee towards the opposite bank, regaining some of the distance it had lost by diving towards me.


    ¡°That¡¯s an earthshaker catfish!¡± Bart shouted, and when I didn¡¯t gasp dramatically or whatever he expected, he explained, ¡°It¡¯s a mana beast!¡±


    ¡°A what?¡± I asked, because that didn¡¯t actually explain anything, which only seemed to get Bart more worked up.


    ¡°By the tides, what do they call them¡­ a magifauna?¡± Again, no reaction from me, and Bart let out a frustrated groan. ¡°It¡¯s a monster, Sam! Not a very strong one, but way too dangerous for you!¡±


    ¡°Hey, speak for yourself!¡± I shouted back, grunting and pulling away from Bart¡¯s hand so I could follow the fish along the edge of the lake as it pulled to the left again. ¡°I¡¯m doing just fine here!¡±


    ¡°Sam, what do you think ¡®earthshaker¡¯ means? That fish you¡¯re trying to pull in there can control the earth,¡± Bart continued urgently as he followed after me.


    ¡°So, what? It can toss some rocks around?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Bart grunted in exasperation, motioning to the shallow crater with some urgency. ¡°It doesn¡¯t just ¡®toss¡¯ rocks, it hurls them hard enough to break bones! It could cause a minor earthquake, or turn the ground to quicksand beneath your feet!¡±


    ¡°Psh!¡± I scoffed, regaining some line as the catfish¡¯s energy seemed to flag for a moment, letting me draw it in closer. ¡°Well, it missed with the rock, and quicksand only works if I¡¯m dumb enough to stand still, so¡ª¡±


    Like a jolt of lightning had run through me, all my fur stood on end, and I knew instinctively that this was a warning, rather than a reaction. Something was coming, I could feel it in my toes even through the soles of my sandals.


    ¡°Move!¡± I yelled at the same time as I broke into an awkward sideways sprint, and Bart thankfully didn¡¯t waste time questioning me, diving in the opposite direction just in time to avoid the localized tremor that turned the spot we¡¯d been standing on into a foot-deep crater, lined with rocky spikes.


    ¡°Ha!¡± I barked out a triumphant laugh, spreading my feet but staying poised to run again as I continued to reel back on the line. ¡°Nice try, uh¡­ fish!¡±


    Bart, now several feet away, scrambled back to his feet, spitting dirt from his mouth to ask, ¡°You¡­ How did you know it was coming so early?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea!¡± I shouted back, laughing again. The catfish¡¯s movements were growing more frantic now, swimming rapidly from side to side in the same spot.


    ¡°It¡¯s gathering up more mud,¡± Bart explained as he ran back up to me, seeming to have accepted that he wasn¡¯t going to talk me into giving this one up. ¡°Get ready to dodge.¡±


    I nodded wordlessly, and dug my feet more firmly into the dirt, my tail thrashing behind me. I was so keyed up that I was moving as soon as the catfish broke the water again, a fresh wave of mud following in its wake. Instead of standing there like an idiot and letting it do its trick with the mud, I yanked back hard on the rod, raising my arms high over my head, pulling it off course and sending it sailing gracelessly through the air.


    And the wave of mud followed.


    Ah, shit.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let it touch the ground!¡±


    With Bart¡¯s last warning ringing in my ears, I turned and ran from the miniature tidal wave of water and lake mud that was taller than I was, keeping my eyes on the catfish as it flailed wildly in midair. I discarded my rod in favor of running with my arms outstretched, ready to attempt to catch a fish that was as long as¡ªno wait¡­ yeah, longer than my arm itself.


    You got this, Sam! I told myself. It¡¯s just like catching a football!


    I¡¯ve never caught a football! I reminded myself.


    Well Chad did it all the time, so it can¡¯t be that¡ª


    The catfish smacked me square in the face.


    I went down, toppled by the weight of the frankly ridiculously heavy fish, landing on my back with my arms wrapping around its body. It thrashed and flopped, and because of the way it landed, I was forced to hold my breath and press my face into its slimy underbelly, holding on for dear life. I had no idea what might happen if it did manage to touch the ground, but I knew enough to figure it wouldn¡¯t be great for me.


    Finally, I felt the catfish¡¯s body seize, then go completely limp on top of me. Before I had time to start kicking and/or screaming, it was rolled off of me, and I gasped for air, tilting my head back and meeting Bart¡¯s wide-eyed expression with a grin.


    ¡°...see?¡± I panted, then spluttered, spitting to get the taste of fish slime off my lips and tongue. ¡°Pleh¡­ s-see, nothin¡¯ to worry about¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡­ I¡­ I don¡¯t even know where to start!¡± Bart bellowed, which was obviously a lie, because he immediately continued, ¡°Taking on a hostile mana beast, even a low-ranked one, is extremely dangerous for an untrained civilian!¡±


    ¡°It¡­ it was just a fish though¡­¡± I stammered, furrowing my brow and frowning.


    ¡°¡®Just a fish?¡¯¡± That seemed to really get Bart going. ¡°There¡¯s no such thing as ¡®just a fish¡¯ where mana beasts are concerned. Some of the world¡¯s most dangerous monsters are aquatic in nature! You¡¯re very fortunate we encountered this one inland, but even that doesn¡¯t change the fact that you could have been grievously wounded, or worse, killed if something went wrong!¡±


    ¡°Well yeah, but¡­ it didn¡¯t¡­¡± I protested weakly, still sprawled out on my back with Bart leaning over me. He opened his mouth to reply right away, one finger raised, but nothing came out. His pointing finger wilted, his hand curling into a fist, which he ground into his forehead, taking a deep breath.


    ¡°You are¡­ correct,¡± Bert begrudgingly admitted, opening his eyes again and looking down at me, his face softening a fraction. ¡°As¡­ unbelievable as it is to me, you are correct. You have just managed to accomplish a feat so far above your current skill level that I cannot help but¡­ be a little proud.¡±


    ¡°Aww¡­¡±


    Bart¡¯s lips pursed at that, and he crossed his arms. ¡°That does not mean that it was not still a very foolish thing to do! Next time, I expect you to heed my warnings if I tell you you have hooked a fish that is too dangerous for you, understand?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± I said, turning my head to glance at the black body of the catfish laying in the grass beside me. I raised one shaking arm and slapped a palm against its side. ¡°This thing put up way more of a fight than I was expecting, but when you said it was some kinda special rare species, I didn¡¯t wanna just let it go.¡±


    Bart¡¯s brow furrowed, and his tone became disapproving again.


    ¡°Sam, it is not wise to let greed or ambition cloud your better judgment, especially this early in your journey to improve,¡± he said, and I blinked back at him.


    ¡°Huh? Greed?¡± I asked, tilting my head sideways in the dirt. ¡°I just wanted to know if it being rare and magical means it¡¯ll taste better.¡±


    Bart stared at me for a long moment after that, several expressions crossing his face before he settled on ¡°amusedly bemused.¡±


    ¡°Sam,¡± he said, speaking slowly and gesturing at the dead catfish. ¡°You¡­ you can¡¯t just eat this.¡±


    ¡°Aw, what?!¡± I shouted, throwing my arms into the air. ¡°Why not? Don¡¯t tell me it being magic makes it inedible!¡±


    ¡°What? No, no,¡± Bart said, shaking his head and holding his hands up. ¡°Mana beasts are as edible as their non-magical counterparts¡ªwell, they have to be prepared differently, to avoid mana poisoning, but that¡¯s not what I meant. You could take this home and eat it, but that would be not only wasteful, but also illegal.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ really?¡± I sputtered, glancing again at the dead fish. Had I just committed some kind of¡­ nature crime?


    ¡°Sam, like I said, this fish is technically a ¡®monster,¡¯¡± Bart said, turning to look off into the distance, presumably in the direction of Rower¡¯s Rest. ¡°Anything involving the hunting, capture, buying, selling, or trading of mana beasts has to be handled through the local branch of the Hunters'' Guild.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± I asked flatly.


    Bart just took a deep breath and shook his head. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to explain it all here. You¡¯ll see when we get back to town, I suppose. If we even can get this back to town¡­ Come on, get up and let¡¯s pack, we¡¯re definitely done for the day. We¡¯ll have to lug all this to the road, then we can try and flag down a wagon.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, about that,¡± I said, drawing Bart¡¯s eyes back down to me, where I was still laying flat on my back in the dirt. ¡°I¡¯m not still lying here because I like it. I don¡¯t actually know if I can get up.¡±


    I had refrained from mentioning it up until now, but my body felt almost completely drained of energy after spending so much time operating at a hundred percent. I could definitely feel a nap coming on, and fast.


    ¡°By the grace of¡­ here,¡± Bart said, less exasperated and more tired, reaching out a hand, which I took gratefully. He hauled me to my feet, and though my legs wobbled, I was still able to stand. For now.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, brushing myself off as best I could. ¡°If you weren¡¯t here, I would¡¯ve probably just had to conk out right there in the grass.¡±


    ¡°Well, then thank the gods I was here.¡±


    From there, we both worked as quickly as we could to pack away the supplies and get ready to return to the village. I stowed my rod and slung it over one shoulder, then with Bart¡¯s help slung the dead catfish over the other, while Bart took over carrying the ice chest, tacklebox, and bait bucket himself. We trudged through the grass, the rising sun doing much to dispel the chill from the air and help dry the wetness that had seeped into the backs of my clothes. While I was glad that I had avoided getting hit with the full brunt of the wave of mud that had been dragged ashore in the catfish¡¯s final moments, I was twice as glad that I was already planning to visit the baths later.


    Once we reached the road, Bart let me rest on the ice chest while he waited to hail the first cart that was headed towards the village instead of away from it. A very friendly farmer and his wife offered to give us a lift for free, but Bart insisted on paying, then we loaded ourselves into the back amidst several crates of vegetables and set off.


    I was asleep before we¡¯d rolled ten feet.


    ¡ö


    (End of Part 1)

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.12.2

    ¡ö


    ¡°Sam. Sam, wake up.¡±


    I was awoken some time later by Bart¡¯s hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. I sat up, momentarily startled by the heavy weight of the dead fish laid across my lap, before the events prior to my nap came back to me.


    ¡°Are we there yet?¡± I mumbled, squirming upright in my seat and peering out of the wagon. The woman, the wife of the farmer, chortled beside me as she lifted one of the crates of vegetables. The street we were stopped on was one of the wider ones I''d seen, with enough room for two carts to pass each other side by side and still leave room for people to walk between them. There were indeed many similar wagons to the one we''d ridden in parked at the edges of the street, unloading their cargo into the double rows of wooden stalls that lined both sides of the street.


    ¡°We brought y''all as far as Market Street,¡± the woman explained while Bart helped me get down from the wagon and heave the catfish back over my shoulder.


    ¡°The Hunters'' Guild is just at the end of the road,¡± Bart said, lifting the rest of the fishing supplies from the back of the wagon before turning to the pair. ¡°And thank you again, Vera.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it was nothin¡¯, Bart, honestly,¡± the woman, evidently Vera, said, smiling at Bart, then nodding at the load in his arms. ¡°You two have some business at the guild, right? We¡¯ll watch those for you until you¡¯re finished.¡±


    ¡°Ah, as long as it wouldn¡¯t be too much of an imposition,¡± Bart said, moving to drop the ice chest, tackle box, and bucket behind the stall.


    ¡°None at all,¡± Vera said brightly, then turned to me. ¡°What about you, darlin¡¯? Would you like an apple for the road?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, uh, sure, thank you,¡± I said, and she reached into the crate she was carrying to hold out a shiny red apple towards me. I started to reach for it, but then thought better of it, as my hands were both still covered in dirt and lake water and fish slime.


    ¡°Uh, just drop it onto one of my pockets,¡± I said with a grin, holding my leg out. The woman chuckled and dropped the apple into one of the side pockets of my cargo shorts, then Bart and I turned and headed off up the road.


    As we walked, I was mostly focused on following Bart and not dropping the catfish I¡¯d worked so hard to catch, but I couldn¡¯t help but notice how many of the people unloading their carts or manning the stalls stopped to gawk at our passage, especially the people who appeared to be buying and selling fish. My first instinct was that they were staring at me again, but I quickly gathered from snatches of conversation that it was the fish I was carrying that was drawing so much attention.


    I picked up my pace until I was walking beside Bart and quietly asked, ¡°How rare did you say this thing is supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Bart glanced down at me, then up at the sky as he thought. ¡°They aren¡¯t exceptionally rare, but they¡¯re uncommon enough in the lowlands that bringing one in unexpectedly is sure to cause a stir, especially in a small town like this.¡± He turned his head to the side, catching the eye of one of the onlooking fishmongers, and let out a chuckle. ¡°I imagine the commotion will only get worse once word spreads that you¡¯re the one who caught it, not me.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, heaving the fish a little higher on my shoulders. ¡°Well, good thing I already gave up on not drawing extra attention.¡±


    Bart snorted, then raised his arm and gestured at the building approaching on our right, the first structure on this street that wasn¡¯t a market stall. It was a square-shaped three¨Cstory building with a tall, sloped roof covered in green tiles. The front doors were double wide and also painted green, and there was a well-worn, wood-carved crest hung above the doorway depicting a shield with three items crossed in front of it: a spear, a bow, and a fishing rod.


    ¡°This is the Rower¡¯s Rest branch of the Hunters'' Guild,¡± Bart said, stopping to take a deep breath through his nose, a wistful smile playing across his face before he cleared his throat and continued towards the doors. Bart held the door open for me, and I stepped inside, finding myself in a fairly spacious front room that¡­ sort of reminded me of being back in Felda¡¯s tavern. There were eight tables, four to each side of the room, with chairs arranged around them, almost all of them standing empty except for one table with three occupants. The left wall had a wide, rectangular wooden board notice hung up, with a dozen or so scraps of paper pinned up on it, and the right side of the room was dedicated to a small bar counter; the selection, I noticed with some amount of smugness, was not nearly as expansive as Felda¡¯s.


    Finally, straight across from the front doors, and situated between two staircases that led to the upper floors, was another counter built into the wall this time, with the rest of this floor continuing beyond it. There were spaces for multiple¡­ receptionists, I guessed, but there was only one person at the counter currently: a druid in the familiar robe and mask. There was a short line at the far counter, with four other people lined up who, in addition to the three people sitting and drinking at one of the tables, all turned to look as Bart closed the door behind us.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Bart said, walking past me towards the counter. I followed, and expected him to stop when he reached the end of the line, but he just continued on, bypassing it entirely to approach the druid behind the desk.


    ¡°Ah, uh¡­ sorry?¡± I said weakly to the person last in line¡ªa black-haired woman with a scar running down one cheek¡ªand hurried to catch up to Bart, just as the druid spoke up.


    ¡°What, uh, can I help you with today, sir?¡± she asked nervously, her masked face turning from Bart, to me, and then back to Bart. I noticed that, rather than having a plain brown robe and a plain wooden mask, this druid¡¯s robes were edged with green fabric and featured some vine-like embroidery, and there was a slight curve to the front of her mask, like a sort of beak.


    ¡°Just two orders of business. For starters, we have an earthshaker catfish to trade in,¡± Bart said, and at that murmurs rippled down the length of the line behind us.


    ¡°I thought that¡¯s what that was!¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯d he even find one ¡®round here?¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s that kid with ¡®em?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know ol¡¯ Bart had taken up slayin¡¯ again¡­¡±


    ¡°And,¡± Bart continued, casting a momentary hush over the onlookers again. ¡°Sam here needs to register for her full license.¡±


    The muttering resumed, and redoubled in intensity as the attention of the people in line was shifted from the fish I was carrying to me, most of them who mentioned having heard of me second-or-third-hand.


    ¡°Uh¡­ very well,¡± the druid said, nonplussed, once again casting a glance at me before tilting her head back up towards Bart. ¡°Well, if you¡¯ll just show me your license, I can take that off your hands and get you your initial fee¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Bart said, cutting in and letting out a downright theatrical chuckle, motioning to me again. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I got those backwards. Sam needs to get a proper license first, so she can be paid for her catch.¡±


    Oh, Bart, you son of a bitch.


    Behind me, muttering went out the window in favor of excited, incredulous shouting, all bleeding into and overlapping one another.


    ¡°What¡¯d he say?!¡±


    ¡°¡ªmust¡¯a heard wrong¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªtellin¡¯ me that scrawny kid landed an earthshaker? Ha!¡±


    I started to turn around¡ªto what end, I had no idea¡ªbut Bart put a hand on my shoulder and kept me facing forward, his face as stoic and passive as if the two of us and the druid were the only people in the room at all. She cleared her throat and stood up from her stool, raising her voice to be heard over the din.


    ¡°O-of course, let me just go fetch the guildmistress for you,¡± she said, already taking several steps backwards. When neither I nor Bart said anything, she turned and all but ran out of view of the little window, and I soon heard her footsteps rapidly ascending a staircase somewhere.


    I turned my head to narrow my eyes up at Bart.


    ¡°Did you have to do that in the most dramatic way possible?¡± I asked under my breath.


    ¡°I did, yes,¡± Bart said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding resolutely. ¡°It''s important the story be suitably exciting when it''s told and retold by every pair of lips in town over the next few days.¡±


    ¡°Uugh,¡± I groaned and rolled my eyes. Before I could respond, the sound of the druid¡¯s hurried footsteps on the stairs returned, accompanied by a second, lighter pair. A second later, she rounded the edge of the window with a red-haired woman in tow. The woman was thin and willowy, and stood taller than even Bart on a pair of incredibly long legs that ended in a set of black scaled talons. I realized with a start that what I''d mistaken for a red cloak draped over her green and gold robes were actually wings, which rustled together gently as she took the receptionist''s position at the counter.


    ¡°Baaart,¡± the towering woman drawled with a broad smile, her voice light and airy, with the same refined accent that Peter had. ¡°How lovely to see you.¡±


    ¡°Cynthia,¡± Bart said with a more reserved smile, bowing his head in greeting.


    ¡°It has been a while, hasn''t it? Have you finally decided to come out of retirement?¡± Cynthia asked, her half lidded eyes gliding over me and the fish I was really starting to get tired of carrying.


    ¡°I''m still perfectly content as I am,¡± Bart said, chuckling and clapping a hand onto my shoulder. ¡°This is Sam, you might have heard of her around town?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Cynthia said, smiling wider and fixing her piercing brown eyes on me again. She lowered her head even further to greet me, extending one of her scaled hands. ¡°Hello there, Sam, I am Cynthia Spurling, the guildmistress of this branch of the noble Hunters'' Guild.¡±


    ¡°Uh, Samantha Fisher, call me Sam,¡± I said, raising and then lowering the shoulder supporting the dead catfish. ¡°Sorry if I don''t shake your hand, mine are kinda full¡­ and covered in slime.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, of course, let me take that off your hands, dear. Sanya, would you mind helping Sam here wash up?¡± Cynthia said, turning to the druid waiting patiently beside her.


    ¡°Ah, sure, I m-mean uh, yes, miss,¡± Sanya said, snapping to attention.


    ¡°Thank you, dear,¡± Cynthia said, smiling, then reached down under the counter and retrieved a long and slightly stained wooden board, laying it lengthwise across the counter and patting the surface. With a grunt, I heaved the catfish off my shoulder and onto the board, and Cynthia bent down and began to inspect it, humming thoughtfully.


    ¡°If you¡¯ll just give me your hands, please?¡± Sanya said, and I turned, finding her standing with both arms held out towards me.


    ¡°Ah, sure,¡± I said, raising my own arms.


    Sanya took hold of both my hands, then straightened her back and, with much more confidence than when she¡¯d said anything else so far, spoke the word, ¡°Cleanse.¡±


    The reaction was immediate. A thin film of water flowed from the tips of her fingers, engulfing my arms up to the wrists, and swirling in place for several seconds before withdrawing, forming into a tiny sphere of slightly off-color water in the palm of Sanya¡¯s hand, which she turned and dropped down a metal grated hole in the floor just behind the counter.


    ¡°That must happen a lot, huh?¡± I asked Bart quietly, unable to take my eyes off my suddenly clean and slightly tingly hands and arms.


    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised by the kinds of things people can walk into these buildings covered in,¡± Bart said with a small smirk.


    ¡°Green Mother''s grace, but this is a fine specimen,¡± Cynthia said excitedly, drawing my attention back to her. She was leaning over the fish¡¯s body, tapping her clawed hands along a series of numbered black notches that ran along one edge of the board. ¡°Mmh, a little over four and a half spans.¡±


    ¡°That''s a bigg¡¯un!¡±


    I jumped slightly and glanced over my shoulder, where the four people who had been in line, as well as the three who''d been drinking, had all gathered into a small crowd at our backs.


    ¡°Quite,¡± Cynthia agreed, letting out a melodious laugh before turning to the druid, who still looked like she was trying her best to fade into the background. ¡°Sanya, I''ll send David to take over here, can you process this while I bring our guests somewhere more private?¡±


    There was a chorus of groans from the peanut gallery, which was quickly silenced by the guildmistress sweeping her eyes over them and asking, in a cheerful and pleasant tone, ¡°You folks don''t mind waiting a moment, do you?¡±


    The crowd mumbled a mix of agreements and apologies, dispersing as quickly as it formed, and Cynthia beamed and walked to the end of the counter, lifting a latch to swing a section of it inward like a door.


    ¡°Come, I''ll show you to my office,¡± Cynthia said, turning and leading the way while Bart and I followed. I only got a quick glance at the area beyond the counter, which continued further back before branching off into two hallways. There were also several open doorways, and Sanya disappeared into one with my catfish in her arms just as I stepped up onto the staircase behind Bart and Cynthia.


    The second floor of the Hunters'' Guild looked uncannily like an office building, but mixed with a natural history museum and a butcher¡¯s shop. There were several square, cordoned off workstations with long tables covered in equipment, at which more druids were hard at work. Some of them were doing what looked like very complicated chemistry, hovering over boiling beakers or grinding things with a mortar and pestle, and some of them appeared to be¡­ dissecting things.


    Spread out around the room were also shelves and racks and display cases full of what I realized were bits and body parts of different animals. I saw more horns and claws and teeth than I''d ever seen in my life, as well as jars of organs; eyeballs, hearts, and other lumps of flesh I couldn''t identify. I noticed movement along the ground, and when I looked I saw that there were a number of slimes, like the one Elle and Mel had except red instead of green, slowly oozing between the stations. As I watched, one of the druids made two sharp whistling noises, and when one of the slimes slithered over, the druid bent down and deposited a gnarled lump of unidentifiable tissue into the patiently waiting blob.


    It was just my luck that now that my hands were clean I¡¯d decided to snack on the apple I¡¯d been given, taking my first bite just as we crested the stairs. The grisly d¨¦cor wasn¡¯t enough to completely kill my appetite, but it didn¡¯t help either.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± I blurted out without meaning to.


    ¡°Hmm? I told you, this is the Hunters'' Guild,¡± Cynthia said, stopping and turning back to me.


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± I said awkwardly, scratching at my cheek. ¡°Well, like you said, I¡¯m¡­ new around here, y¡¯know, and I guess I don''t know what exactly that means.¡±


    ¡°Oh, my apologies,¡± Cynthia said, letting out a small laugh. ¡°I didn''t realize this was your first experience with the guild at all. Well, I''ll be happy to answer as many questions as you¡¯d like.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay, well, what''s happening here?¡± I asked, tilting my head towards one of the tables. One of the druids glanced over idly, then returned to their work.


    ¡°This is where we store and process the various mana rich byproducts from the many magifauna that are handed in to the guild,¡± Cynthia explained, sweeping one arm across the room. ¡°Like the catfish you two brought in, the creatures are rendered down to their base components, and those in turn are sold to alchemists and enchanters, who use them as ingredients and reagents for their crafts.¡±


    ¡°Wooooah¡­¡± I stared at the room with a whole new appreciation for what I was seeing. ¡°So that fish I caught is gonna be used for, like, potions?¡±


    One of Cynthia''s eyebrows quirked up at that and her smile widened. ¡°Potentially, yes.¡±


    She reached a hand up and gave the top of my head a feather-light pat before turning around and continuing to lead the way around the outer edge of the room. I flicked one of my ears and shrugged, moving to follow after her, but before I¡¯d made it two steps, I noticed more movement out of the corner of my eye and stopped. Looking down, I saw that one of the reddish slimes had wandered over towards me and was¡­ jiggling insistently at me. It had no eyes, but I felt like it was staring at me, begging for something, no, pleading for something.


    I glanced from the wobbling red ooze to the apple with a single bite taken out of it that I was still holding in my hand. Wordlessly, I bent down, and dropped the apple into the creature¡¯s body.


    ¡°Blup,¡± it¡­ blupped, and slowly jiggled away.


    ¡°...you''re welcome?¡±


    I caught up with Cynthia and Bart and together we arrived at the other end of the second floor, where four closed doors ran the length of the farthest wall. Cynthia led us to the furthest door on the left, pushing it open and ushering Bart and I inside.


    The room we stepped into was a spacious and well organized corner office, with two rows of wide windows that were letting in plenty of light from the steadily rising sun. There was a wide desk against one wall, with one particularly high backed chair behind it and two smaller ones in front of it, with two more chairs tucked into another corner of the room by a small side table. It also had an imposingly large bookshelf taking up an entire wall, with the many books sharing shelf space with even more claws and teeth and bones, these ones clearly ornamental, as they were all polished to an almost mirror sheen. Some of the larger trophies were even hung up on the walls, but the most prominent decoration was an absolutely enormous bow made of dark red wood hanging in a glass front case across from the desk.


    ¡°Please, take a seat,¡± Cynthia said, unfurling her large red wings and using one to motion towards the chairs. ¡°Can I get you two anything? Water, tea, coffee?¡± She glanced at me and her smile lifted a little higher. ¡°Perhaps some fruit juice? I have many varieties, and I know your kind tends to favor sweet flavors over bitter ones.¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure, I¡¯ll take some juice,¡± I said, settling into one of the seats across from the desk. I didn''t care that her offer sounded a little condescending, I was just proud of myself for not immediately blurting out, ¡°They do?¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Cynthia said, looking at Bart in turn.


    ¡°Nothing for me,¡± Bart grunted, dropping into the seat beside me.


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    Cynthia breezed past us and rounded her desk, opening a tall cabinet with a glass door and selecting one glass bottle from over a dozen others inside. She lifted two mugs from a row of hooks and carried them back to the desk, handing one to me and pouring out a generous portion of a dark amber liquid that immediately filled the room with the smell of apples and cinnamon, before doing the same for herself. Sliding into the chair opposite Bart and I, she waited patiently for me to take a drink.


    I took a tentative sniff of the liquid; I was pretty sure I knew what it was, but it never hurt to be thorough. I took a slow, careful sip, savoring not just the sweetness of the apples, but also the strong undercurrent of spices.


    ¡°Mmh!¡± I groaned in satisfaction as I lowered the mug, looking back up at Cynthia with a grin. ¡°Wow, that is good cider!¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± Cynthia laughed, taking a small sip from her own mug. ¡°I did a favor a long while back for a family that owns one of Torgard¡¯s largest orchards, and since then they¡¯ve insisted on sending me several of these a year, so I always have a couple bottles knocking around.¡±


    ¡°A favor, she calls it,¡± Bart said with a gruff but good natured laugh. I gave him a quizzical look and he gestured with a thumb over his shoulder at the case containing the bow. ¡°She used that bow there to single-handedly save their lives and livelihoods. An enraged ember boar wandered out of the forest, and would have destroyed the whole orchard, along with their homes, but thankfully she got there in time.¡± Bart turned to smirk at Cynthia, who was using her mug to hide most of her expression. ¡°At least, that¡¯s how I¡¯ve heard it told.¡±


    Cynthia took a slow, deliberate sip, obviously stalling, before clearing her throat. ¡°I would say that is a slight exaggeration of the facts,¡± she said with a patient smile, sitting up even straighter than she already was. ¡°I was not the only one who contributed to bringing down that boar, I was simply the one who arrived first. The rest of my team were every bit as essential to defeating that monster as I was!¡± The feathers on her arms and head had begun to stand on end as her explanation went on, but she caught herself before she got too worked up, and cleared her throat again. ¡°Ah-hem, but you two didn¡¯t come here for a history lesson, did you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m actually still not entirely sure why we did come here,¡± I said, taking another sip of my own cider. It really was some of the best cider I¡¯d ever tasted.


    ¡°Right, right, you mentioned you¡¯ve little to no experience with our organization. I suppose that¡¯s not surprising, considering your background,¡± Cynthia said, nodding and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her desk, smiling at me over her folded hands. ¡°I imagine Bart at least told you why you had to bring that fish you caught here?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s magic?¡± I ventured, scratching at my head. ¡°A¡­ what did Elle call it, a¡­ magical creature? I¡¯ve also heard you and Bart say ¡®mana beast¡¯ and ¡®magifauna¡¯ and ¡®monster,¡¯ are those all the same thing?¡±


    ¡°More or less,¡± Cynthia said, rocking her head from side to side. ¡°Magifauna is the scientific term that encompasses all living creatures that are either magical in their creation, or have gained or evolved the ability to manipulate mana innately to hunt or defend themselves. From there, the rest are more colloquial terms and their use will often depend on who you¡¯re talking to and where they¡¯re from. ¡®Critter¡¯ is used for things that are, generally, harmless or too benign to be of any serious threat to anyone but small children or the like, like slimes or certain races of magic insect or small mammals. ¡®Mana beasts,¡¯ or sometimes just ¡®beasts,¡¯ make up the bulk of what people refer to when they talk about magifauna, and ¡®monster¡¯ is generally reserved for the most dangerous and destructive creatures.¡±


    ¡°Ooooh, huh,¡± I said, wishing I could pull out my notebook and write that down. It seemed important to keep those straight. ¡°So, anything to do with those has to go through you?¡±


    ¡°More or less,¡± Cynthia said, resting her chin on top of her hands again. ¡°Under ideal circumstances, a Hunters'' Guild branch works hand in hand with both the Druids and various other local guilds like Alchemist¡¯s Guild and the Merchant¡¯s Guild, the former to help monitor and maintain the local ecosystem, ensuring neither the mundane nor magical animal populations come under undue strain, and the latter to facilitate the safe and easy distribution of otherwise rare and highly volatile magical components. We do our best to ensure that anyone who wishes to hunt or fish on a regular basis is properly informed, educated, and accredited, to keep tabs on the growth of promising hunters, put them in contact with teammates of comparable skill and talent, and, in times of crises, organize them to help defend against whatever ecological threats may fall into our jurisdiction¡­¡±


    Cynthia seemed to realize something, and gave me a questioning look.


    ¡°Do stop me if I''m ever going too fast.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, no, I think I got all that,¡± I said, blinking. ¡°It sounds like a¡­ pretty cool organization, honestly.¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Cynthia hummed, tapping her chin with a clawed finger. ¡°I suppose my description does lack for a bit of warmth, but I assure you the guild is anything but cold.¡±


    I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It had never occurred to me that there was a chance some of my, uh, ¡°Earth slang¡± was not getting perfectly translated, or that certain turns of phrase simply wouldn¡¯t exist here. Maybe I¡¯d ask Elle and Mel about it later.


    ¡°Sorry, what I meant was, it sounds interesting, and pretty helpful too,¡± I said, and Cynthia nodded in understanding.


    ¡°Oh, I see, I see!¡± Cynthia laughed melodiously and leaned back into her seat, sighing happily. ¡°I suppose it is, though in a fairly quiet corner of the world like Rower¡¯s Rest, most of that doesn¡¯t apply. Torgard is a fairly tame island, and any mana beasts of significant strength are either docile enough to be left to their own devices, and any that aren''t are usually dealt with before they can pose a serious threat. This town, especially, has not had an incident involving a rogue beast in almost ten years now.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°And that is a good thing,¡± Bart said, finally speaking up after a while, and Cynthia chuckled again.


    ¡°Yes, yes, you¡¯re right, Bart,¡± Cynthia said, turning her head to look out one of the windows. ¡°As much as I enjoyed my time on the frontiers, helping tame the wild islands, I¡¯m no spring chicken anymore¡±¡ªI snorted, but managed to cover it up as a cough¡ª¡°and it¡¯s nice to have someplace calm and quiet to rest my wings, to ensure the next generation of hunters is properly prepared to pick up where I left off.¡± Her eyes, which had drifted towards the window as she reminisced, settled onto me again, and she smiled. ¡°Case in point, the reason you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I said, finishing the last of my cider and sitting up straighter in my chair.


    Cynthia smiled at my display of seriousness, and folded her hands in front of her again, intertwining her fingers. ¡°To cut straight to the bone, your capture and subsequent slaying of an earthshaker catfish was done while you were only in possession of a provisional fishing license, correct?¡±


    ¡°Uh, this thing?¡± I asked, reaching into my satchel and retrieving the slip of sturdy paper that Hubert had given me, holding it up for her to see.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Cynthia nodded, reaching out for the paper. I passed it to her and she turned it over in her hands. ¡°Because of this fact, we''re presented with something of an interesting problem. This license technically does not allow you to hunt or sell that fish.¡±


    Before I even had time to look alarmed, Cynthia held up a hand. ¡°Now, this isn''t a serious issue by any means, in fact it''s very easily rectified, but it does require you to make a somewhat hefty decision.¡±


    I glanced at Bart for reassurance, and when he nodded firmly I settled back into my chair, motioning for Cynthia to go on.


    ¡°You see, there are traditionally two paths an enterprising young hunter, or angler in your case, takes after they''ve outgrown this preliminary license; Either they upgrade from this to a standard game license that grants full permissions to hunt or fish in their local area, but only for mundane, non-magical prey. This is the path for those who wish to make a modest living off the land, but lack either the skills or confidence to overcome mana beasts.¡±


    ¡°And the other path is, what, professional monster hunter?¡± I asked, trying to keep my tone level, but I could feel my tail starting to swish behind me. It was finally starting to sink in exactly what kind of place this was.


    Cynthia let out an amused chuckle and nodded. ¡°Essentially, yes. They apply for the introductory professional hunter¡¯s license, which carries all the benefits of the standard license, but also allows them to hunt specifically for magifauna, if they so choose. It also grants access to certain extra guild facilities and services, not just in their home branch, but any branch in any corner of the world.¡±


    ¡°It kinda sounds like that option is just better all around,¡± I said, and Bart laughed beside me.


    ¡°I could''ve guessed you''d say something like that,¡± Bart said, smirking sidelong at me, before his face became serious again. ¡°It¡¯s not all perks though; you should know those extra benefits come with extra responsibilities as well.¡±


    ¡°Just so,¡± Cynthia said, taking another slow sip from her mug. ¡°Being certified as a professional hunter does carry with it more weight than just sticking to ordinary animals. Your skills and performance would come under much closer scrutiny, especially from your fellow hunters, and as I mentioned before, higher ranked hunters are expected to contribute to repelling rogue monsters and handling other threats well suited to their unique skill sets. Of course, most of this wouldn''t apply to you, as you''d be joining at the lowest rank. Provided, of course, that you even chose that option at all.¡±


    Cynthia fell silent, and I realized she had finally reached the end of her explanation. I glanced again from her to Bart, and back again, before tilting my head to one side.


    ¡°So, that''s the choice I have to make? Whether I wanna just get a normal fishing license and stick to normal fish, or go for the super special one where I get to hunt magic monster fish?¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± Cynthia said, her smile widening again. Beside me, Bart sighed through his nose and brought a hand up to his forehead.


    ¡°What happens with that fish I caught if I just go with the normal one?¡± I asked, and Cynthia hummed.


    ¡°Well, in that case, we would legally have to credit the catch to Bart if you wanted to avoid a fine, and both the initial reward and your cut of the proceeds from the sale of its parts would have to be given to him first, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯d pass them right along to you.¡±


    Tilting my head to look up at Bart, I found him looking even more nervous than when he first realized I''d hooked such a dangerous fish. He tried to hide it, but his eyes were wavering slightly as he stared back at me, and I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching under his stubble. I let a smile slowly creep onto my face, leaning on the arm of my chair and asking, ¡°Was this a conversation you didn''t think we''d have to have so soon?¡±


    ¡°I thought it would at least take a week,¡± Bart said, his shoulders heaving as he sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know whether to thank the gods, or curse them, that you landed that fish on your first try. I won''t try to make this decision for you, Sam. If you''d asked me on the first day I met you if I thought you''d be capable of maintaining your hold on a fishing rod while dodging flying rocks, I would have laughed.¡±


    ¡°You never laugh.¡±


    ¡°I would have,¡± Bart reiterated, smirking at me before resuming his serious tone. ¡°But, after what you showed me this morning, I''m having to seriously reconsider everything I thought I knew about you, and catkin in general.¡±


    ¡°Heh,¡± I chuckled, reaching up to give one of Bart¡¯s shoulders a pat. ¡°I''d be lying if I said I wasn''t right there with you, but thanks, Bart.¡± Turning back to Cynthia, my smile widened until I was sure I was flashing my fangs, and I said, ¡°Well, honestly, there''s no chance I''m taking the normal license. I didn''t get covered in slime and drag that thing all the way back here to not get the credit for it.¡±


    ¡°We rode a cart most of the way back, Sam.¡±


    ¡°I still had to carry it.¡±


    ¡°You were asleep for the whole ride.¡±


    ¡°Not important!¡± I leaned forward and slapped both my palms down on the desk, though the impact was somewhat lessened by the desk being just slightly too tall for me to reach comfortably. Cynthia, for her part, had the good grace not to laugh. ¡°I''d like to apply for the professional hunter¡¯s license!¡±


    ¡°I thought so,¡± Bart said, and sighed again, slumping back in his chair. ¡°When Felda asks, would you tell her I at least tried to stop you?¡±


    ¡°No promises,¡± I said, still grinning up at Cynthia. ¡°So, how does this work? Do I gotta sign something, or¡­?¡±


    ¡°Well, typically, there¡¯s a review process, where either a guild affiliate accompanies you on a trek to assess your skills and determine whether you¡¯re up to the challenge, but considering who you have sitting beside you, I would say his willingness to vouch for you speaks volumes.¡± Cynthia began to rummage through her desk as she spoke, and I snuck another glance at Bart. ¡°I would also make a point to ask you if you''re absolutely sure you fully understand the risks inherent with hunting magifauna, but for most people that conversation typically comes before they''ve actually hunted one. From what I hear, you experienced that danger first-hand, and if it has not dissuaded you, then I won''t waste the effort trying either.¡±


    Cynthia finally found what she was searching for: a pair of red framed spectacles, which she slipped onto her face, then continued to dig, pulling out several more items in quick succession. There was a metallic jangling from one drawer, and she produced a small metal plate made of¡­ copper? Or maybe bronze? Whichever one it was, it was square, with slightly rounded edges, and a little bit bigger than a business card, but smaller than a greeting card. She placed it down on her desk, then placed a single sheet of paper next to it, and, finally, an ink pot and a quill made from a long red feather.


    ¡°Let''s see here¡­¡± She adjusted her glasses and leaned over the paper. ¡°Full name; Samantha Fisher, correct?¡± I nodded, and she quickly scratched it out onto the larger sheet of paper. ¡°Hmm, do you know your date of birth?¡±


    Oh, shit. I knew I should''ve planned for this sooner.


    ¡°Uh, I¡­ Not the exact date, no,¡± I said nervously. ¡°I know that it''s in the¡­ fourth quarter of spring, year¡­ seven hundred and four.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that''s plenty,¡± Cynthia said, waving away my concerns and touching her quill to the paper again. ¡°Let me just¡­ Wait, that would make you¡­ nineteen?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­¡± I said, just barely holding back a weary sigh. ¡°I know, I''m short, but I''m seriously older than I look.¡± Half turning to Bart, I grumbled, ¡°Why is everyone always so surprised?¡±


    Cynthia brought a hand up to her mouth and stifled a giggle. ¡°Oh, I''m sorry, but that''s not what I meant. I actually thought you were much older than that.¡±


    ¡°What? Really?¡± I asked, narrowing my eyes slightly.


    ¡°Well, yes,¡± Cynthia said, looking slightly confused as well. ¡°If you''ll forgive me for saying so, you''re quite independent for one of your kind, especially at this age.¡±


    ¡°I think you''ll find Sam defies the mold in many regards,¡± Bart cut in before I had a chance to even open my mouth, and that gave me an extra second to actually think about how I was going to reply. Like Peter, the polite pigeon man who delivered the mail, it seemed like Cynthia had at least passing familiarity with catkin. Considering what I¡¯d learned about the existence of High Society, it made sense that anyone capable of independent flight might actually have been there once or twice. That was something to keep in mind going forward.


    ¡°Ah, eh, yeah, I¡¯ve been told I¡¯m¡­ kind of unusual,¡± I explained awkwardly, and like I¡¯d done with Peter, I made sure to pull my ears all the way back against my head. The reaction was immediate and satisfying.


    ¡°Oh, my goodness, how careless of me,¡± Cynthia said, looking suddenly stricken. ¡°My deepest apologies, you must be an awful long way from home and the rest of your kind, I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t need me dredging up those memories.¡±


    ¡°I-it¡¯s fine,¡± I said hastily, dropping my eyes to the floor. Not because I was actually that upset, or to sell the image, but because I was actually a little embarrassed at how well that had worked. Forget super enhanced hearing and heightened agility, that might actually be my most powerful ability; looking like a sad kitty cat at the drop of a hat.


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Cynthia said, leaning across her desk and plucking up my now empty mug, once again refilling it with cider. ¡°Here, the least I can do.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I mumbled, accepting the mug and sipping from it slowly while Cynthia retrieved her quill, picking up where she left off with the details of my application.


    ¡°I think in light of that, we can leave ¡®island of origin¡¯ blank as well, if you¡¯d prefer not to talk about it,¡± Cynthia said, and I nodded quickly. That was actually perfect for me, since I didn¡¯t have the first clue what any High Society islands were named. So far the only islands I could name were this one and the ones I¡¯d skimmed from the book Mel gave me, and I couldn¡¯t say I was from any of those.


    I chanced a glance out of the corner of my eye at Bart, and as expected he was looking at me closely, his brows ever so slightly furrowed. If he suspected the past few moments were all just an act, he didn¡¯t seem in a hurry to say anything.


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s just one last thing,¡± Cynthia said, and I turned my focus back on her. She turned the paper around and slid it across the desk, then placed the quill and inkpot beside it. ¡°I need your signature at the bottom, right there.¡±


    Standing up so I could reach, I got a better look at the sheet of paper. Aside from the printed headings showing where each bit of information should be written, and the long bold line at the bottom where I was meant to sign, I also noticed there was an intricate, swirling border running along the entire outer edge of the form. I thought it was purely decorative at first, but the more I stared at it, the more I realized there was something off about the thick black strokes. Parts of the design seemed to writhe before my eyes, turning into words at the periphery of my vision but then losing definition when I tried to focus on them.


    Huh¡­ was something wrong with the translation? Hmm, was there a safe way to ask about it?


    ¡°Hey, uh, what¡¯s this border around the page?¡± I asked, figuring there was little chance it was something that could give me away.


    ¡°Oh, that?¡± Cynthia reached down, sliding the slab of copper-or-maybe-bronze towards me as well. ¡°It¡¯s part of the spell that will help transcribe the information onto your license, see?¡±


    I did see. Running along the edge of the metal was a similar border, inked on top of the metal. So, did that mean the translation was trying, and failing, to let me understand the words that made up a literal magic spell? Definitely another thing to ask Elle and Mel about later.


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± I said, nodding and reaching towards the quill, but pausing again. Once again feeling awkward, I cleared my throat and looked up. ¡°Can I, uh, write with something else? I¡¯ve never actually used one of those.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, I don¡¯t think that would be a problem,¡± Cynthia said.


    ¡°Great, one sec!¡± I reached for my satchel and dug out the weird pencil thing I bought with my journal, leaning down again. For one brief moment, I felt my hand wanting to make the motions to write out my old signature, my old name, but that was easily overcome, and soon I was staring down at the words ¡°Samantha Fisher¡± written across the bottom of the page with a growing warmth in my chest and a prickling in the corner of my eyes.


    ¡°A-anything else?¡± I asked, turning away to return the pencil to my bag and surreptitiously blink away the not-quite-tears that hadn¡¯t fully formed.


    ¡°Nothing that comes to mind,¡± Cynthia said, sliding the paper back over to her end of the desk and briefly glancing over it before looking up at me with a smile. ¡°Well, everything seems to be in order. I suppose this is your last chance to change your mind, if you still have any doubts?¡±


    ¡°Mmmh¡­¡± I crossed my arms, furrowing my brow. I tried to summon up as much seriousness as I could muster and really think about whether I was doing the right thing, but, honestly, all I could think about was the fact that I had fished up and fought a magical monster fish, completely by accident, and lived to talk about it. While it was true that I really only got into fishing in the first place because I¡¯d developed a sudden craving for it, and was only pushing Bart to teach me faster so I''d stand a chance in the competition, it sounded like it wasn¡¯t entirely my choice whether I encountered more of these magic fish or not, if they were just swimming around out there mixed in with all the others.


    I wasn¡¯t planning on going out and becoming some kind of badass monster slayer, and according to what Cynthia said, I wouldn¡¯t have to, but¡­ I also couldn¡¯t deny how cool the thought of that seemed to me, so maybe after the competition I could¡­


    Though, speaking of the competition.


    ¡°Hmm, Cynthia, do you know Bentley? The mayor¡¯s son?¡± I asked, lifting my head.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Cynthia answered. ¡°What about him?¡±


    ¡°Does he have a professional license?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t believe so?¡± Cynthia glanced quizzically from me to Bart.


    ¡°Heh!¡± I laughed, standing as tall as I could and crossing my arms. ¡°That¡¯s all I needed to know. Go ahead and¡­ do whatever you need to do to finish this, because I¡¯ve made up my mind!¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Cynthia said, chuckling indulgently along with me. She reached once more into her desk and pulled out two items this time; a round metal tin and a wood-handled stamp. I watched with mild amusement as she opened the tin, revealing the expected ink-soaked sponge inside, and pressed the stamp into it before swiftly and deftly applying it to the finished application form, exactly as I expected her to.


    What wasn¡¯t expected was for the border around both the paper and the accompanying metal plate to both start glowing brightly, and the paper to suddenly burst into flames, going up in smoke like a piece of flash paper.


    ¡°Wa¡ª!¡± I started to cry out, but in less than a second it was over, and all that was left was a slowly dissipating curl of smoke, and the metal plate, which Cynthia scooped up and held out to me. I cleared my throat and sheepishly accepted it.


    ¡°T-thank you,¡± I said, turning the plate over in my hands. On the back I found an embossed engraving of the same crest I¡¯d seen on the front of the guild; a shield crossed by a spear, bow, and fishing rod. On the front, all the information that had been written on the paper was now etched into the metal; my name, date of birth, and my signature, as well as another, smaller, circular version of the guild crest, which must have been from the stamp. As I ran my thumb across it to feel how surprisingly smooth the edges of the engraving were, it began to light up again, and I jumped, holding it out at arm¡¯s length.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to worry about, dear,¡± Cynthia said after a moment in which the license thankfully didn¡¯t explode in my hand. ¡°That¡¯s just the identity glyph. That¡¯s how you prove you¡¯re the actual owner of that badge, as that crest will only light up for you.¡±


    ¡°W-woah,¡± I said, catching my breath and once again settling my thumb over the crest, watching in fascination as it lit up. Satisfied, I slipped the license into my pocket, where it settled with a comforting weight.


    ¡°Well, allow me to congratulate you, Samantha Fisher,¡± Cynthia said, standing up and reaching across her desk. I reached out and took her hand, shaking it firmly but carefully. We did both have claws, after all. ¡°You are now a bronze ranked professional hunter.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, beaming, but then tilted my head. ¡°Wait, bronze? Rank?¡±


    Well, that answered one question. The license was bronze, not copper.


    ¡°Ah, yes, of course,¡± Cynthia took her hand back, walking out from behind her desk. ¡°As I said, you are coming in at the introductory rank, bronze. Don¡¯t worry, the Hunters'' Guild is not a competitive organization, the ranks are simply to keep track of any given hunter¡¯s general skill level, and help them choose appropriate prey. Most commonly encountered mana beasts will have an accompanying rank applied to them, you see, and that can help you determine whether something is too dangerous to attempt to fight. We have plenty of guides for beginners here in the guild, if you ever wish to study up on the local species.¡±


    Oh man. Between the atlas Mel gifted me, and now whatever these ¡°guides¡± turned out to be, it sounded like I had a lot more reading to look forward to in the future. It sounded like it was exciting reading, but, still, reading. For absolutely no reason at all my body chose that exact moment to remind me that I had only had a short, bumpy nap in the back of a vegetable cart recently, and forced a yawn out of my mouth as I turned to follow Cynthia.


    ¡°Ah, perhaps another time, yes?¡± Cynthia said, turning back and smiling down at me.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I mumbled, still not quite able to suppress all the embarrassment that came with being so easily tired out. Though, to be fair, between my run last night and fighting for my literal life this morning, I was probably more justified than ever to be a little exhausted.


    As we stepped back out into the processing area, another thought occurred to me.


    ¡°Hey, uh, one more thing,¡± I called ahead to Cynthia, and she stopped and peered back at me. ¡°You said that you guys take care of everything, like, cutting up the catfish I brought in, right?¡±


    ¡°Correct, that¡¯s actually our last stop for today. By now Sanya should have begun processing the carcass, and we¡¯ll be able to pay you the initial reward. Any additional proceeds from sale of the parts will be held for you until the next time you visit.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s great, but I actually wanted to know, is it like¡­ allowed for me to ask to have some of it?¡±


    Cynthia tilted her head slightly, one eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Ah, well, that depends. Decisions like that are made on a case by case basis. For most ingredients, you¡¯re fully welcome to ask for them to be turned over to you, with only the most volatile components requiring special permissions. There should be no problems for you, though, there¡¯s nothing especially dangerous inside an earthshaker catfish, though I would urge you that unless you plan to use them yourself, you¡¯ll get a much better price selling through the guild.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s fine, I didn¡¯t want any of the¡­ components, or whatever,¡± I said, shaking my head quickly. ¡°I just wanna know if I could have some of the meat?¡±


    Cynthia¡¯s curious look vanished, and her smile widened.


    ¡°The¡­ meat?¡± Cynthia repeated thoughtfully, eventually nodding her head. ¡°I suppose so, yes. It¡¯s true that the flesh of magical creatures is often one of the most highly prized parts, but I should reiterate, most merchants prefer to buy from a more trusted source.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°I¡¯m just going to give it to Felda.¡±


    Cynthia stared down at me for the span of several seconds, her face seemingly frozen, before she pressed her palms together and smiled again.


    ¡°Very well,¡± she said simply, and turned to resume her stride, leading us back down the stairs to the first floor. Rather than returning to the front, we went deeper into the area behind the counter, which was a lot bigger than it looked, and explained why the building had looked so large from the outside. There were more half rooms with more processing stations inside them, and it was at one of those that we found Sanya, literally up to her elbows in the catfish I¡¯d brought in. It was a little jarring, seeing the seemingly timid druid girl wearing a pair of thick leather gloves and apron over her robes, both of which were now covered in blood or worse.


    She was even humming a little tune to herself inside her mask.


    ¡°Sanya,¡± Cynthia called, announcing our presence, and she let out a startled squeak, almost dropping whatever organ she¡¯d just pulled from the inside of the fish.


    ¡°Y-y-yes, miss?¡± Sanya said, quickly depositing the lump of flesh into a bucket and turning around. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you, right. Uh, I have the results of the initial evaluation right there.¡± She pointed to a sheet of paper that was clipped to a clipboard, which itself was hung up on a hook against one wall.


    ¡°Excellent work, dear,¡± Cynthia said brightly, turning and bending down to peer at the sheet as she spoke. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I must trouble you briefly, young Sam here would like to take some of the meat with her.¡±


    ¡°Oh, alright,¡± Sanya said, turning to me, the lenses of her druid mask catching the light from the overhead lamp. ¡°How much?¡±


    ¡°Uuuh¡­ ¡°


    ¡°One filet should be plenty,¡± Bart offered helpfully, and I pointed at him and nodded my confirmation.


    ¡°Sure, give me just a moment,¡± Sanya said, turning and raising her arms in front of her again. ¡°Cleanse!¡±


    I watched as the same thin skin of water appeared and wrapped itself around her hands and arms, the resulting orb of water much more brownish-red than when she¡¯d just washed my hands. The sphere of muck was deposited down another drain hole, and Sanya turned, reaching towards a rack of various bladed implements and selecting a very thin, narrow bladed knife.


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± I mumbled quietly to Bart while I waited for Sanya to do¡­ whatever she was about to do. ¡°With a spell like that, I wonder if I¡¯d even need to visit the baths.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a reason that spell only covers the hands and arms,¡± Bart said, letting out a gruff chuckle. ¡°Trying to cover much more than that without either drowning the subject or sucking all the moisture from their eyes, mouth, and nose would increase the difficulty of casting it tenfold.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Bart continued, ¡°just because you could find a way to replace some mundane task with a magical replacement doesn¡¯t mean you should. It¡¯s my understanding that people take long, hot baths because they¡¯re enjoyable, no?¡±


    ¡°Ah, good point,¡± I said, glancing back to Sanya to see if she¡¯d started. At some point, she must have, because she had somehow removed one entire side of the catfish¡¯s body and moved it aside, and was now carving it with smooth, sweeping motions, manipulating the knife in her hands like a conductor¡¯s wand. I stared, transfixed, as she removed the fins, trimmed down the edges, then flipped the filet over and swapped her knife for a large pair of what looked like tweezers. She ran her gloved hands along the pinkish flesh, occasionally poking the tweezers into it and drawing out a long, thin¡­ bone? Which she began to build a small pile of as she went, until finally she stood up and took a deep breath.


    ¡°All done,¡± Sanya declared, turning back around.


    ¡°Woah,¡± I said, blinking, and wondering if it would be rude to clap. ¡°That was, what, like thirty seconds? That¡¯s amazing.¡±


    ¡°O-oh, no, that was nothing,¡± Sanya said, her head lowering and her shoulders hiking up. ¡°Miss Spurling here could have done that in ten seconds, easy.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so hard on yourself, dear,¡± Cynthia said, reaching out to rest a clawed hand on Sanya¡¯s head, patting it through the hood, before turning to the prepared filet. ¡°Let¡¯s get this packaged up for you, then I¡¯ll go fetch your payment, and you¡¯ll be free to go.¡±


    Sanya seemed momentarily unable to form words, but she and Cynthia worked together, using a sheet of waxed paper from a large roll to wrap and package the catfish filet, handing it off to me. It was still about as long as my arm, but significantly easier to carry than the entire fish had been.


    ¡°Bye, thanks again,¡± I called to Sanya as we left her to the rest of her work, then Bart and I continued towards the front desk while Cynthia broke off to visit the guild¡¯s ¡°vault.¡± Even before we rounded the corner, I could tell something was off by the amount of overlapping chatter I could hear. Stepping out into the reception area, it looked like the small crowd that had dispersed earlier had returned with a vengeance, and multiplied. I could see the few hunters who had been waiting in line, and the trio that had been sitting at the tables and drinking, and then an entire group of other people who hadn¡¯t been there before. And as we stepped out into the open, all eyes swiveled to fix onto me and Bart.


    As much more comfortable as I¡¯d gotten with myself, and with receiving attention from strangers over the last¡­ three or four days, that was still a lot of eyes.


    Without breaking the stride I¡¯d build up, I pivoted right back around, and half walked, half ran back the way I¡¯d just come. I made it about two steps, before Bart caught me by the shoulder.


    ¡°Come on, Sam,¡± he urged gently. Well, gently for him. ¡°They¡¯re just eager to know if the town has a new professional hunter, and I personally can¡¯t wait to see the looks on some of those faces when they find out.¡±


    ¡°R-right,¡± I said, taking a deep breath in through my nose, doing my best to steel myself. He was right, and that crowd was probably only gonna get worse the longer I waited.


    Turning back around, I stepped past Bart and emerged once again into the reception area, and this time I didn¡¯t flinch when all eyes fell on me. I also made sure to have my tail curled as tightly around my waist as I could.


    ¡°Well?¡± one gruff voice called from the crowd. ¡°Let¡¯s see it then!¡±


    Taking another deep breath, I once more broke out into a fang-baring grin and reached down into my pocket, pulling out my shiny new bronze badge, holding it up for all to see. I even made sure to hold it with my thumb over the crest in the corner, so everyone would see it lighting up.


    The crowd erupted, and I felt a mixture of terror and pride as the waves of congratulatory cheers mixed with disbelieving shouts washed over me. Several people broke off from the back and almost literally ran back out the door.


    I couldn¡¯t have stopped grinning, even if I wanted to.


    This carried on for just long enough for Cynthia to return from the back rooms, and whatever raucous commotion her presence alone didn¡¯t silence was put to an end when she, still smiling brightly, cleared her throat, the sound somehow cutting through and drowning out all other noises.


    ¡°Everyone sure is lively this morning,¡± Cynthia said once there was silence, chuckling and turning to me, reaching into a pocket on the inside of her robes. ¡°Here you are, Sam; your payment for the hunt.¡±


    I held out my hand, not sure what I was expecting, and when Cynthia dropped the small stack of coins into my palm, my jaw dropped open. Sitting there in my hand were five hefty golden coins, the ones that featured a crab on one side. I still wasn¡¯t an expert in this world¡¯s currency, but I was pretty sure this was kind of a lot of money. Hell, if I remembered right, this was one tenth of the prize money for the competition I was training for.


    So that¡¯s why people risk their lives to fight giant monsters with magic powers.


    ¡°Bart,¡± I said distantly, still not quite able to take my eyes off what felt like a small fortune in the palm of my hand. ¡°Would you hold onto this until we get back to Felda¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Bart asked, and I curled my fingers over the coins and turned to look up at him.


    ¡°So that I can¡¯t spend it all before we get back to Felda¡¯s.¡±


    Bart snorted, but I was completely serious. I knew there were probably plenty of legitimate uses I could find for these funds, but I also knew that if I wasn¡¯t careful I might impulsively blow it on something flashy but ultimately useless to me, like¡­ I don¡¯t know, a sword or something.


    ¡°Mmh, alright,¡± Bart said, and I pressed the gold into his hands, turning back to the crowd, which was still watching, but at a much more polite distance and volume.


    Cynthia moved to once again lift the latch on the side of the counter to let Bart and I back out into the main room. Securing the catfish filet in my arms, I led the way, with Bart following behind, and the crowd parted for us.


    ¡°It was delightful to meet you, Sam,¡± Cynthia called, waving from the desk. ¡°Feel free to come back in a day or two to collect your cut of the proceeds.¡±


    Oh my god, er, gods? there was more?


    ¡°Thanks, uh, and, nice to meet you too,¡± I called back, one hand on the door handle, doing my best to look past the corridor of gawking faces. ¡°I¡¯ll see you all next time, I guess.¡±


    With that, I yanked the door open and, finally, reemerged onto the streets and the bright early morning sunlight.


    Bart and I quickly collected the ice chest from the nice couple who¡¯d agreed to watch it for us, and I was just able to fit the bundled filet of catfish into it. I wanted to head straight back, but Bart suggested we offload a few of the fish I¡¯d caught, both to lighten the load we¡¯d have to carry, and because Felda likely wouldn¡¯t be able to buy all of them.


    I agreed, but between my growing exhaustion and the gaggle of townspeople who had followed us from the guild and were, even now, watching from the sidelines, I didn¡¯t feel up for haggling with a bunch of fishmongers. Thankfully, Bart offered to handle that without me even needing to ask, and I watched from a short distance as he quickly and efficiently bartered away a few of the choicest samples of perch, solfish, pumpkinseed, and bluegill. I made sure to tell him to save the three pound rock bass for Felda though.


    Finally, we were on our way back to the tavern. I was a little worried, wondering just how long the crowd from the Hunters'' Guild intended to follow us, but Bart assured me there was nothing to worry about, and I trusted him. At some point, the last of them broke off, and we were alone again by the time Bart pushed in the doors to the Crooked Hook.


    Felda was seated on a stool at the bar when we entered, a book open in front of her, and stood up to greet us as we deposited our gear beside the doors.


    ¡°My, you two are back late,¡± Felda said, crossing the room in a few quick strides so she could take the ice chest from Bart.


    ¡°Aye, well, we had to make a bit of a detour,¡± Bart said, chuckling as he handed off the chest, then slid his coat off and hung it on the rack.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Felda asked, and Bart looked down at me, jerking his head in Felda¡¯s direction while her back was turned.


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± I said, hurrying to catch up and walking alongside Felda as she returned to the bar. ¡°We had to stop by the Hunters'' Guild, actually.¡±


    Felda froze mid-stride and her head swiveled down to stare wide eyed, first at me, then over her shoulder at Bart. She all but threw the ice chest down onto the bar counter, then promptly forgot about it and knelt down, suddenly poking and prodding at me, tilting my head this way and that.


    ¡°What happened? Did a stray beast wander out of the forest? Were you hurt?¡± Felda fired off her questions back to back as she fussed over me.


    ¡°Nyach, no, no, nothing happened!¡± I shouted, stumbling back and holding my hands up to stop Felda from lifting me straight off my feet. ¡°I¡¯m not hurt, and nothing came out of the forest!¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ what?¡± Felda still looked concerned, so I tried to smile, to put her at ease, and pointed to the ice chest.


    ¡°It was in the river, actually,¡± I said, smiling wider at the way Felda¡¯s mouth popped open. Before she could collect herself for another round of questions, I put my hands on my hips and squared up my shoulders, and explained, ¡°I caught an earthshaker catfish.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Felda gasped, reaching up as though to start inspecting me for injuries again, but caught herself, clenching her hands into fists instead and looking frantically from me to Bart. ¡°Caught? You¡­ you mean you hooked it, but then Bart cut it loose, obviously?¡±


    Bart, who had gravitated closer, held up his hands as well and took a few steps back. ¡°I swear, I tried.¡±


    Felda¡¯s eyes fixed on me again, and I flashed my fangs and shrugged.


    ¡°It was a tough fight, but I still won in the end.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ believe it¡­¡± Felda brought a hand to her forehead, heaving out a heavy sigh.


    ¡°If I hadn¡¯t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn¡¯t either,¡± Bart said with a chuckle, stepping forward and offering a hand, helping Felda back to her feet.


    ¡°How in Soliel¡¯s name could you let her do something so dangerous, Bart?¡± Felda asked, but didn¡¯t wait for an answer, instead looking down at me again. ¡°Wait¡­ the Hunters'' Guild? Oh, tell me you didn¡¯t¡­¡±


    I was kind of starting to feel bad for Felda, she really must not have been expecting anything like this, at least not so soon. Still, I dug into my pocket and fished out the bronze plate, holding it up for Felda to see.


    ¡°Afraid so,¡± I said, once again feeling the corners of my mouth being pulled upwards as if by magnets. ¡°You¡¯re looking at a brand new bronze rank professional hunter.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Sam,¡± Felda sighed again, rubbing her forehead with one hand and taking my badge with the other. She inspected it from front to back, shaking her head, but a smile had appeared on her face as well. ¡°You know you didn¡¯t need this just to keep fishing, right?¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said, crossing my arms behind my head, letting out another yawn as the excitement of the moment began to wear off again. ¡°Cynthia, the guildmistress, she explained it. I know I could''ve gone with the normal license, but, well, it was really exciting fighting that thing. I don¡¯t plan to suddenly run off and start fighting monsters everyday or anything, that honestly sounds exhausting, but every now and then couldn¡¯t hurt right?¡±


    ¡°It very much could get you hurt,¡± Felda said seriously, holding the license back out to me.


    ¡°I know,¡± I said, taking it back but then placing my hand on her arm, looking her square in the eyes. ¡°But, I promise I¡¯ll listen to Bart if he tells me something is too strong and too dangerous for me. I just want to eat as many kinds of fish as I can, but I know I can¡¯t do that if I wind up eaten by a dragon or something.¡±


    Felda chuckled at that, which then developed into full on, chest rumbling, shoulder heaving laughter. Felda reached for me again, and this time I wasn¡¯t quick enough to avoid being lifted off my feet in a crushing bear hug, one of her hands settling firmly on the top of my head.


    ¡°Alright, Sam,¡± Felda said, gently scratching between my ears. ¡°I trust you, and I trust Bart to watch out for you.¡± I wanted to reply with actual words but I was really tired, and she was really working that one spot behind my left ear, and for a moment I just dropped my head onto her shoulder and let the purring do the talking.


    Though, her talk of trust reminded me that there was still another difficult conversation I needed to have with her. Or, rather, that Bart needed to prep her for first. And I was probably going to have to conk out for several hours before that anyway. That was enough to put a bit of a damper on my mood, one that Felda picked up on when I stopped purring so vigorously.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Felda asked as she set me back on the floor, and I glanced from her to Bart.


    ¡°Ah¡­ later,¡± I said, smiling reassuringly. ¡°There¡¯s something we''ll need to talk about later, but for now I¡¯m just kind of worn out. It¡¯s been a busy day.¡±


    ¡°Mmh, alright then,¡± Felda said, smiling back, then turning to the ice chest still waiting on the countertop. ¡°Should we take care of these while you¡¯re still on your feet?¡±


    ¡°Oh, right!¡± I said, bouncing slightly on my feet and hurrying past her, climbing up onto a stool so I could reach into the chest and pull out the wrapped filet of catfish. Turning to Felda, I presented it with both hands. ¡°Before anything else, this is for you.¡±


    Felda hummed curiously, accepting the paper and twine wrapped bundle. ¡°What it is?¡± she asked, peeling away one corner of the paper.


    ¡°It¡¯s from the catfish I caught,¡± I said, beaming again as the way her eyes widened.


    ¡°Sam,¡± Felda said softly, looking from the wrapped bundle to me. ¡°This is¡­ This is a bit too much for my little tavern. A cut of meat like this, well-prepared, can go for half a dozen crabs or more. I¡¯d want to pay you a fair price for this, but I don¡¯t know how many of my usual clientele could afford it.¡±


    ¡°Psh, what?¡± I said, waving my hand. ¡°You don¡¯t have to pay me for it, it¡¯s a gift.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Felda gasped, holding a hand to her mouth, her cheeks turning a darker shade of teal as she giggled, then reached out to give me a quick, one armed hug ¡°Oh, goodness, Sam, that¡¯s incredibly generous of you, I don¡¯t know¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I said, hugging back as best I could from my seated position. ¡°You¡¯ve given me so much already, I figured this is the least I could do. I just hope whoever orders what you make out of it enjoys it.¡± I leaned back in the stool, resting my elbows on the bar. ¡°But, y¡¯know¡­ if there happens to be little bit left to spare, I also wouldn¡¯t mind giving it a try.¡±


    Felda laughed again, reaching up and ruffling up my hair before returning the wrapped bundle to the ice chest.


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t you worry, Sam, I promise I¡¯ll save some for you!¡±


    With that out of the way, we got down to business, right after Felda took an extra moment or two to marvel at the sheer amount of panfish I¡¯d brought back, especially after we told her we¡¯d already sold off several on the way back.


    Felda¡¯s prices were, of course, pretty generous, and between what she paid for the small pile of panfish, what Bart had been able to haggle for the rest, and what I¡¯d gotten for the earthshaker catfish, I suddenly had almost ten whole gold crabs to my name. It was kind of funny that just one single fish had been worth more than an entire morning¡¯s worth of work combined, but it made sense when I thought about it. Fishing for normal fish was safer and simpler, while fishing for crazy magic fish that could kill you weren¡¯t careful was obviously more dangerous, but more profitable as well.


    Finally, with my new funds tucked away in my satchel, I bid Bart and Felda my now familiar farewell until I would see them again in however many hours I decided to nap for. Yawning, I dragged myself up to Felda¡¯s room, ditched my sandals and my thoroughly fish-scented day clothes, and dropped off to sleep as soon as I tumbled into bed.

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.13.1

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 13


    ¡ö


    I must have been really worn out, because I slept for all of the morning and most of the afternoon, waking up just a bit before Elle and Mel usually arrived. After checking in with Felda, I spent the rest of the afternoon idly skimming over the atlas, focusing mainly on Torgard, since that seemed like the most likely to be relevant to my immediate future. I learned, for instance, that Torgard typically swam in a clockwise direction, except for one span of about a two hundred years when he swam counter-clockwise instead.


    ¡­


    I wasn¡¯t sure exactly how or why that would come up in the future, but now I was prepared if it ever did.


    At some point, Elle and Mel arrived to help open the tavern, and I hopped up to join them. With everything that had happened that morning, I¡¯d completely forgotten to worry about asking the pair out to the bathhouse with me. Unfortunately, they both immediately beelined straight towards me, and the reason was obvious.


    ¡°So, is it true?!¡± Elle demanded, her cheeks flushed green and her hands clenched in front of her.


    ¡°W-what?¡±


    ¡°Did you really fish up an eight-span rockodile and become a pro hunter this morning?!¡± Elle asked, and I furrowed my brow.


    A¡­ rockodile? Did I even want to know?


    I shook my head, reaching out and placing both hands on Elle¡¯s shoulders to steady her.


    ¡°Okay, calm down. First off, no, it was a four-span earthshaker catfish,¡± I said, and Elle''s eyes widened, while Mel just let out a sharp whistle. ¡°And second¡­ Well, yeah, that part¡¯s true.¡±


    With a little flourish, I once again pulled out and held up my bronze hunting license, and Elle actually gasped, leaning back in shock before lunging forward to crush me in a hug, just like Felda had.


    ¡°By all the gods, Sammie! That must have been terrifying! What did you do?¡± Elle asked urgently, and after I pried my face out of the front of her uniform, I chuckled and shrugged.


    ¡°I just¡­ fished it out? Don''t tell Bart I said this, but it was actually kind of easy,¡± I said, and Elle let out a peal of nervous, wavering laughter and gave me another tight squeeze.


    ¡°Just like that, huh?¡± Mel asked, crossing her arms and grinning down at me.


    ¡°Just like that,¡± I agreed, patting Elle on the back before she pulled away.


    ¡°That is amazing, Sammie,¡± Elle said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before she stood up again, and her and Mel broke off to change into their uniforms, then started setting up the tavern. I joined them¡ªfor the latter, not the former!¡ªand after a few minutes, between breaks of Elle and Mel telling me what they¡¯d been up to that day, I cleared my throat.


    ¡°Hey, uh¡­¡± I spoke up, pushing in one of four chairs around one of the round dining tables. Mel paused in the middle of doing the same across from me, and Elle looked over from another table, where she was laying out plates and cutlery.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Mel asked, smiling and crossing her arms over the back of the chair in front of her. It was subtle, but there was definitely a difference in the way she, and Elle too, had been looking at me since I¡¯d started dating them. There was a brightness behind their eyes, an almost literal light, that made my chest tighten and my stomach twist itself into knots.


    ¡°Sam? Hello?¡± Mel asked, waving her hand in front of my vision, and I jerked back slightly, my cheeks suddenly hot. Okay, so I¡¯d gotten distracted staring for a second, so what?!


    ¡°S-sorry,¡± I stammered out, chewing on my lower lip for a moment to refocus myself. ¡°I, uh, wanted to ask you two something.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Elle perked up from across the room and stepped over to stand beside Mel, and she had the same look in her eyes too.


    ¡°Yeah, uh, well, the thing is¡­¡±


    Uuuugh, damnit! Why was this harder than dodging flying rocks and diving out of the way of a mini earthquake? I was just glad Felda was still back in the kitchen, prepping something. Reaching up, I clapped my palms over both of my cheeks, giving them a light slap, and took a deep breath.


    ¡°Okay, here¡¯s the thing,¡± I said, looking up at Elle and Mel with fresh determination, completely ignoring Elle¡¯s delighted giggling. ¡°I realized last night that I technically haven¡¯t had a bath since I¡­ arrived here, and Felda reminded me that this village has communal bathhouses.¡± So far, so good. ¡°And, well, that¡¯s¡­ not something I¡¯m used to, like at all, so I wondered if¡­ if you two might want to, after work, you know¡­¡±


    Ah, damnit, ran out of steam right at the finish line. Thankfully, that was still more than enough for Elle and Mel to get what I was asking for, and the pair didn¡¯t waste any time giving me their answers.


    ¡°Aww, of course we¡¯d like to go with you!¡± Elle giggled, bouncing on her toes and clapping her hands together in front of her.


    ¡°Yeah, that sounds great,¡± Mel agreed, reaching up and giving one of my ears a quick scratch. ¡°We¡¯ll be looking forward to it for the whole night, won¡¯t we Elle?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh!¡±


    Ah, geez, these two. My cheeks felt like you could roast marshmallows on them, but, still, mission accomplished! I whirled away from the pair, blurting out, ¡°Okaythat¡¯sgoodcan¡¯twait!¡± in one quick rush before scurrying off towards the kitchen to hide. I mean, to see if Felda needed any help.


    I caught Felda just as she was emerging from the store room with a wooden crate in her arms, and she smiled when she saw me.


    ¡°Hey there, Sam,¡± Felda said, setting down the crate on one of the countertops. ¡°What¡¯s all the commotion out there?¡±


    ¡°Ah, well, I¡­ asked Elle and Mel if they wanted to go to the bathhouse, like you said,¡± I explained, and Felda¡¯s smile grew even brighter.


    ¡°Oh, and were they as excited to accept as I thought they¡¯d be?¡± Felda asked teasingly, and rolled my eyes and nodded along with a smirk.


    ¡°I guess there wasn''t really any doubt,¡± I said, then cleared my throat again. Well, since I was already here, and I didn¡¯t want to have another thing hanging over my head until the end of the night, I asked, ¡°Hey, so, did Bart¡­ talk to you after I went off to sleep?¡±


    ¡°Mmh, yes he did,¡± Felda said evenly, looking back over her shoulder. She¡¯d been pulling out some of the contents of the crate¡ªa pile of large, pale mushrooms¡ªbut paused and turned around to face me fully, brushing her hands off on her apron and leaning against the counter.


    ¡°Ah, then, you already know what I¡¯m going to say,¡± I said, doing my best not to break eye contact, reaching up to scratch nervously at the back of my neck. ¡°But, that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not going to say it anyway.¡± I paused, in case Felda needed to say anything else, but when she just waited patiently, I took a deep breath, and, for the second time, admitted, ¡°My hearing is actually a lot better than I¡¯ve been letting on, and I¡¯ve¡­ kind of listened in on you and Bart several times over the last few days.¡±


    I was glad that I¡¯d agreed to let Bart talk to Felda about this ahead of me. I could only imagine what her initial reaction must have been. At the moment, she didn¡¯t seem to have any strong feelings about the news one way or the other. She still had a thin, understanding smile on her face, and after a moment of silence she pushed off from the counter and crossed the kitchen to kneel in front of me. I did my best not to tense up, and it helped that before even saying anything, Felda placed one hand firmly on top of my head and gave me a few gentle scratches.


    ¡°I forgive you, Sam,¡± Felda said, and I felt my heart clench in a different way before a tidal wave of relief rushed out of me in a protracted sigh. It was nothing less than exactly what I expected, but it was even more effective at disarming me than if she¡¯d actually been upset. ¡°I can¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t a little hurt to hear it, but I understand that you did what you felt you had to do, and I don¡¯t blame you for it.¡±


    ¡°S-still,¡± I stammered, catching myself and steadying my breathing. I was not going to cry in the kitchen again! ¡°Still, I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯ve both been nicer to me than I ever could¡¯ve expected, and I feel really bad about invading your privacy like that. Like I told Bart, I promise I¡¯ll do my best to keep it from happening again, even by accident.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all I can ask,¡± Felda said, nodding and holding her arms open, offering another hug rather than pulling me in, and I appreciated the gesture, stepping in and wrapping my arms as far around her massive torso as I could.


    ¡°Well,¡± Felda said when we finally broke apart. ¡°If you¡¯re finished helping the girls out there, would you like to lend me a hand in here?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely!¡± I said, suddenly feeling like I could run from one end of the village to another.


    ¡°Great!¡± Felda beamed and laughed, patting me on the back and leading me over to the counter, reaching into the crate and pulling out a large round object about the same size, shape, and color as a softball. ¡°Do you know how to chop onions?¡±


    Ah.


    Well, I did offer.


    So I wound up crying in the kitchen again after all. But that shouldn¡¯t count, damnit!


    Eventually, with the sun hanging low on the horizon, the last of Felda¡¯s employees, the taciturn bartender Viktor, arrived to take his place behind the bar, and five minutes later the first customers began to file in. I was tucked quietly into the corner booth that Bart and I typically shared, figuring he¡¯d be along any time now. When a shadow fell over my shoulder, I looked up from my journal, which I''d been taking more fishing notes in, expecting Bart¡¯s grizzled but distinguished visage, but was instead greeted by a pair of sailors I was vaguely certain I''d met before.


    ¡°Can we see it?¡± one of them asked.


    ¡°Wha¡ªoh, uh, this?¡± There was only one thing I could imagine they wanted to see, and I reached into my pocket for my license.


    ¡°Cor¡­¡± the first one said.


    ¡°I told you I weren''t lyin¡¯,¡± the second sailor said smugly, the pair of them bustling away to find a table, leaving me alone again.


    ¡°...huh. Alright.¡±


    I returned the bronze plate to my pocket, but no sooner had I done so when another group appeared at the edge of the booth, a trio this time. They also seemed familiar, and I realized after a moment they were the three who''d been drinking at the Hunters'' Guild earlier.


    ¡°Hey, we''re sorry to bother you¡­¡± the first one said, a tall human woman with long blonde hair pulled into a loose braid, standing a fair distance in front of the other two. Waiting behind her and half hiding behind a support beam were an elven man with light-pinkish skin and teal hair, wearing a loose shirt that showed off a little bit too much of his chest, and another woman with black hair and gray, tufted ears that I nearly mistook for another catkin, before I realized her bushy, black-and-gray striped tail was obviously that of a raccoon.


    ¡°D¡¯you wanna see it too?¡± I asked, already pulling my license back out, but the woman quickly put her hands up and shook her head.


    ¡°Oh, no no, that¡¯s alright! We were there when you got it, actually,¡± she said, chuckling nervously and glancing back over her shoulder at her friends, both of whom flashed her a thumbs up.


    ¡°What¡¯s up then?¡± I asked, turning slightly in my seat and propping myself up on one elbow.


    ¡°Right, I won¡¯t waste too much of your time,¡± the blonde woman said, squaring her impressively built shoulders and placing a hand over her chest. ¡°I¡¯m Virginia, and these are my companions¡±¡ªshe half-turned, motioning to the elf and the racoon girl in turn¡ª¡°Harvey, and Cassie.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Harvey said with a curt nod, his voice surprisingly deep for such a scrawny guy. Cassie didn¡¯t say anything, but raised her hand and gave me a shy little wave.


    ¡°Uh, nice to meet you, I¡¯m Sam,¡± I said, waving back and looking up at Virginia. ¡°So, did you need something from me?¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Harvey cut in, leaning slightly further out from around the support beam, putting on a voice like a car salesman. ¡°It¡¯s more about what you need from us.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Harvey!¡± Virginia hissed over her shoulder, forcing a smile back onto her face when she turned back to me. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ll get right to the point: my friends and I are hunters too. Well, you know that, you saw us at the guild.¡± Virginia paused, and her brow furrowed slightly. ¡°You did see us, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I said hesitantly, growing increasingly confused.


    ¡°Right, of course.¡± Virginia nodded, mostly to herself. ¡°Well, we just wanted to introduce ourselves to you, and let you know we''re available, in case you ever wanted to¡­ well, you know.¡±


    I¡­ What? I very much didn¡¯t know! Were these three¡­ trying to pick me up or something?


    ¡°See, Virginia, this is why I said I should do the talking!¡± Harvey piped up again, rushing up to shoulder past Virginia, slapping one palm down onto the table and cocking the other against his hip, flashing me a brilliant smile. ¡°Hey there, Sam, I¡¯m Harvey D. Goodberry, this is my half-sister, Virginia Valencia, and that¡±¡ªHarvey whipped around to point back at Cassie, who I saw had buried her face in her hands¡ª¡°gorgeous gal is Cassandra Masters. The three of us represent one of Rower¡¯s Rest¡¯s premiere up and coming professional hunting companies.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re the entire company¡­¡± Cassie muttered into her hands, her voice so muffled I wasn¡¯t sure if the others could even hear it.


    ¡°In fact, all three of us here are certified iron-ranked hunters,¡± Harvey continued undaunted, whipping out a metallic plate almost identical to my own license except, obviously, made of iron.


    ¡°We just got promoted last quarter¡­¡± Cassie groaned. ¡°This was such a terrible idea¡­¡±


    ¡°Now, we couldn¡¯t help but notice that scene you made at the guild this morning,¡± Harvey said, his grin widening, and I let out a sputtering, choking noise.


    The scene I made?! I just stood there while Bart did all the talking!


    ¡°By now, word¡¯s probably spread all over town that there¡¯s a hot new hunter in the game, and I can tell ya from experience: there¡¯s about to be a lot of people with their eyes on you, wondering what your next move is gonna be.¡± Gravitas dripped from every word Harvey was saying, and I wasn¡¯t buying an ounce of it. I still wasn¡¯t even actually sure what these people wanted! The only thing I knew for sure was their names!


    ¡°I can tell you¡¯re concerned,¡± Harvey said at my flat expression, lifting his hand off the table and making a sweeping gesture with both arms. ¡°That¡¯s where we come in. My friends and I are here to offer you the most invaluable resource a new hunter needs: experience in the field! We can show you the ropes, teach you some tips n¡¯ tricks, anything you need really!¡± He leaned forward again, cupping one hand around his mouth and continuing in a conspiratorial stage whisper, ¡°Us younger hunters gotta stick together, after all.¡±


    I stared back at him for several long seconds, wondering just how long he could hold up that confident, cocky smile, but when he showed no signs of wavering, I gave up and let out a sigh.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡­ are you trying to sell me something? Or are you asking me for something? What is happening here?¡±


    Virginia, who had also taken to massaging the bridge of her nose with her eyes squeezed shut while Harvey¡¯s spiel was going on, groaned and stepped up, shoving an elbow into Harvey¡¯s ribs, causing him to let out a noise like a deflating balloon.


    ¡°What this horse''s ass is trying and failing to explain is that the three of us wanted to invite you to come hunting with us sometime,¡± Virginia said, mercifully plainly, clamping a firm hand down on Harvey¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We could teach you about some of the local beasts, maybe train together a bit, and if this idiot doesn''t talk your ears off, maybe you¡¯d see your way to joining our party.¡±


    ¡°Oh! Oooooh¡­ huh¡­¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    So these guys were monster hunters? They didn¡¯t look like much; Virginia was tall and well built, but Harvey was as lanky as they came, and Cassie was only a little bit taller than me, and seemed way too quiet and shy to hunt anything.


    But then again, I supposed I didn¡¯t look like much either, and I still managed to catch that catfish this morning, so who was I to say? The three of them had been drinking in the guild, and Harvey did show me his iron rank license, so they were probably the real deal.


    And they wanted me to join them?


    I opened my mouth, an enthusiastic ¡°Okay!¡± ready to come flying out, but caught myself just in time and bit back my initial reply, so that only a strangled squeak came out.


    Several seconds of uncomfortable silence passed between the three of us, neither of the pair moving an inch, before one of Harvey''s eyebrows lifted he asked, ¡°So¡­ is that a ¡®no?¡¯¡±


    ¡°I told you guys we shouldn¡¯t put her on the spot like this!¡± Cassie finally spoke up, her voice cutting through the tension as she rushed up to stand between the other two, giving me a sympathetic look. ¡°I''m really sorry about this, I tried to tell them we should wait a day or two, but then Harvey got us all excited about the prospect of finally having a full-sized team and we got carried away, we''ll leave you alone now!¡±


    Cassie hooked an arm around one of Harvey¡¯s and reached up to grab part of the jacket Virginia was wearing, and began trying to pull them both away from the booth, Harvey¡¯s protests and Virginia''s attempts to shut him up mixing with Cassie¡¯s continued apologies.


    ¡°W-Wait a second!¡± I shouted, holding a hand up, and the trio froze, each of them looking at me with an expectant, hopeful gleam in their eyes. That only made me want to immediately accept their offer even more, but I had to contain myself and give them an explanation. I sighed, and motioned for them to come closer again. As one, the trio shuffled back up to the edge of the booth, waiting patiently for me to speak.


    ¡°Okay, so, you three seem¡­¡±¡ªmy eyes flicked momentarily to Harvey, who grinned lopsidedly¡ª¡°...nice, and I really don''t want you to take this the wrong way, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯m who you''re looking for.¡±


    ¡°Well there¡¯s definitely not another catkin in this town¡­¡± Harvey mumbled, and Cassie lightly elbowed him in the side again.


    ¡°No, what I mean is¡­ I think I have to say ¡®no,¡¯ for both our sakes,¡± I said, reaching to pick up my bronze license from where I left it, running my thumb over the guild crest in the corner. ¡°That fish you saw me bring in this morning was more of a fluke than anything, I was just in the middle of my fourth day, ever, learning to fish when that thing showed up, and the only reason I didn¡¯t let Bart cut it loose was because I wanted to see what it tasted like.¡±


    It was Cassie, shockingly, who laughed first, though she put the most effort into stifling it, but once she started snorting into the back of her hand, Harvey also started to chuckle. Even I was snickering a little, mostly at how much that amused them. Virginia was the only one who remained stoic, clearing her throat and holding up a hand.


    ¡°I mean, if it¡¯s just a matter of confidence, we¡¯ve all been there too,¡± Virginia said, and that just made me laugh again.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not that,¡± I said, catching my breath after the laughter wound down. ¡°If anything, fighting that catfish gave me too much confidence. Like, sure, it scared the shit out of me when it jumped out of the water and threw a rock as big as my head at me, but I kinda just¡­ moved out of the way? And after I got over that initial shock it was just like fighting with a normal fish.¡±


    ¡°Well now she¡¯s just bragging¡­¡± Harvey muttered again.


    ¡°Shh! Be nice!¡± Cassie hissed.


    ¡°That''s just it!¡± I said, pointing at Harvey, who jerked back in surprise. ¡°I''m sure that if I got another crack at a monster fish like that I''d probably be completely fine, but I¡¯m also convinced that the first time I try to apply that same thinking to something that actually has legs and teeth and claws and shit, I''d just get eaten. Or crushed. Or crushed then eaten!¡±


    ¡°So you''re saying you''re¡­ both overconfident and underconfident?¡± Virginia asked hesitantly, clearly skeptical.


    ¡°I guess so?¡± I said, shrugging and leaning back until my head hit the back of the booth. ¡°But that¡¯s not why I think I have to turn you down. To be completely honest, I would actually love to join your group and train to hunt monsters, like, that would be so cool, but¡­ well, you¡¯ve heard about the competition, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be surprised if anyone in this town hadn¡¯t, by now,¡± Harvey said.


    ¡°Yeah, well, like I said, I¡¯m trying to get as good as I possibly can at fishing, as fast as I possibly can, before the competition arrives, because if I lose it, I¡¯ll have to leave this village entirely,¡± I said, which seemed to lessen some of the disappointment I saw in the trio¡¯s expressions, and they turned to look at each other. I also hadn¡¯t really wanted to think of the reality of how much higher the stakes had risen since I first foolishly challenged Bentley on my first day in this world, but I knew I had to take it seriously.


    Clearing my throat, I held up a hand, drawing back their attention.


    ¡°But,¡± I said, and saw the group¡¯s ears perk up, literally in both Cassie and Harvery¡¯s case. ¡°That said, if¡­ when I do win the competition, I¡¯ll be totally in the clear. And, until then, well¡­ not to brag again, but I have been picking up this fishing stuff pretty quickly, so maybe I will have enough spare time for some monster hunting practice?¡±


    ¡°Well, there we go!¡± Harvey declared, clapping his hands together. ¡°We''ll definitely take a ¡®maybe¡¯ over a ¡®no,¡¯ and if it''s just until the Midsummer Festival, we can wait that long. Right, ladies?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± Cassie said, nodding at Harvey and giving me a shy smile. ¡°We''ll, uh, be rooting for you in the competition, of course!¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± Virginia nodded in agreement as well, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb. ¡°Well, you know where to find us if you do find yourself with time to spare, until then, we''ll¡ª¡±


    ¡°Are these three bothering you, Sam?¡±


    Virginia, Harvey, and Cassie all let out yelps of various volumes and spun around at the sound of Mel''s voice right behind them. I leaned forward to peek past them and wave.


    ¡°Hey, Mel. Nah, they just wanted to talk about hunting stuff,¡± I said.


    ¡°I hate when you sneak up on me like that!¡± Virginia gasped, one hand still over her heart, then jerked her head from Mel back to me and motioned with her fingers. ¡°Wait, you two know each other?¡±


    ¡°You two know each other?¡± I repeated, looking at Mel expectantly.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Mel said, raising an eyebrow and smirking at me. ¡°Me and Virginia run into each other at the training hall sometimes.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It''s the place we go to train,¡± Virginia explained. ¡°Technically, it''s part of the church, y¡¯know, but it¡¯s open to anyone who wants to practice their martial discipline. Sometimes some of the priests of Love and War even give lessons, and also the guards train there pretty often too.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, like a dojo?¡±


    The three hunters all gave me strange, confused looks at that, while behind them where only I could see, Mel winced slightly. Eventually, a look of realization crossed Cassie''s face and she snapped her fingers.


    ¡°Oh, that''s what it''s called in Yuusha, right?¡± she asked, eyes wide. Behind her, Mel caught my eye and nodded.


    ¡°Uh, yeah, that''s right,¡± I said, which only seemed to shock or confuse the trio more.


    ¡°I thought you were from¡ªurk!¡± Harvey started to speak, but Mel¡¯s foot shot out and struck him in the side of his shin, causing him to almost crumple to the floor. Cassie caught him and helped him stand up straight again, and he spent a moment balanced on one leg while nursing the other.


    ¡°Ffffffucking¡­ thorns and brambles, Mel, that hurt,¡± Harvey groaned through his teeth, switching to Elvish halfway through.


    I stared up at Mel in fascination.


    ¡°Wait, you fight? I mean, you know like ka¡ª er, mar¡ª uh, shit¡­ you know how to fight?¡± I asked, struggling to avoid using any more specific or alien words in case I said something suspicious or impossible to explain again. Mel snorted and put a hand on her hips.


    ¡°Sam, if you weren¡¯t so cute I¡¯d be offended by how surprised you seem,¡± Mel said, giving me a quick grin. ¡°Yeah, I know how to fight. I was actually thinking of inviting you to come with me sometime; Elle¡¯s got all the ferocity and stamina of a hibernating squirrel, but I bet you and I could really work up a sweat.¡±


    ¡°Oh ho ho!¡± Harvey let out a suggestive laugh, sounding far too smug for someone who¡¯d just been kicked in the shin. ¡°Mel, do I smell fresh-tilled soil?¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Harvey,¡± Mel said dryly, having switched to Elvish as well.


    ¡°Shut up, Harvey!¡± Elle¡¯s voice carried from clear across the tavern.


    ¡°Whaaat, I just wanna congratulate you two,¡± Harvey said, holding his hands up defensively. ¡°I¡¯ve been saying you and Elle really needed to grow out your roots more, and look at you now! And a cat gal too, huh?¡± Harvey slung one arm around Cassie¡¯s shoulder, giving her a squeeze and a lopsided smile while she blushed furiously. ¡°It¡¯s the cute little ears, isn¡¯t it? I get it, I get it.¡±


    ¡°You just said something rude, didn¡¯t you?¡± Cassie demanded, but didn¡¯t actually try to shake Harvey¡¯s arm off. In fact, she had actually looped her around his lower back.


    ¡°He just said your ears are cute,¡± I said, and the suave, cocky grin fell right off of Harvey¡¯s face, to be replaced with a look of wide-eyed alarm. Grinning back at him, I momentarily switched to Elvish and said, ¡°And thanks, I think mine are pretty cute too.¡±


    Harvey¡¯s cheeks lost some of their vibrant pink color, and Mel burst out laughing, while Virginia and Cassie just exchanged looks of bemusement.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Harvey stammered, clearing his throat and tugging nervously at the loose collar of his shirt. ¡°Well, uh¡­ yeah, you¡¯re¡­ welcome?¡± he said, nudging Cassie and taking a step back. ¡°We should probably get going now.¡±


    ¡°You sure? You don¡¯t wanna stay and make an ass out of yourself a few more times?¡± Virginia asked dryly.


    ¡°Nope, nope,¡± Harvey said, shaking his head. ¡°If there¡¯s one thing Harvard D. Goodberry knows, it¡¯s when he¡¯s been shown up. Thank you for your time, Sam, we¡¯ll, uh¡­ yeah.¡±


    With that, Harvey turned and made for the doors. Cassie moved to follow, but paused long enough to turn and give me another wave before shyly scampering out the door.


    ¡°Is he always like that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± both Mel and Virginia said in unison, causing them both to chuckle again, Mel reaching up and giving one of Virginia¡¯s shoulders a playful punch, which the other woman returned.


    ¡°Well, uh, thanks for putting up with¡­ all of that,¡± Virginia said, looking down at me again. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll see both of you around. Let me know if you two do end up hitting up the training hall, I¡¯d be happy to show you some moves even if you don¡¯t end up joining us.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, sure, I think I¡¯d like that!¡± I said, giving her a bright, genuine smile. ¡°We¡¯ll just have to see how the fishing goes over the next few weeks.¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± Virginia said, pumping her fist, then immediately looking embarrassed about it. Turning it into a wave, she backed towards the door. ¡°Bye Sam, nice meeting you, nice seeing you again, Mel.¡±


    ¡°Bye,¡± I called after her.


    ¡°Seeya,¡± Mel said, touching two fingers to the side of her head and flicking them out, like some kind of casual salute.


    ¡°Bye Ginnie!¡± Elle shouted out again, from¡­ somewhere in the tavern.


    Once Virginia was gone, Mel turned, smirking down at me.


    ¡°Glad to see you¡¯re making some more friends.¡±


    ¡°I was literally just sitting here,¡± I said, closing the atlas with a thump. I didn¡¯t think I was getting any more reading done that night.


    ¡°Well, there are definitely worse people you could be attracting attention from,¡± Mel said, shrugging and turning to survey the tavern. ¡°They¡¯re an alright bunch, even Harvey, despite¡­ Ah, shit, we¡¯re starting to fill up now. Talk later, okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I said, then braced myself as Mel leaned down and delivered a parting peck to my cheeks before hurrying off to rejoin Elle in seating and serving the incoming patrons. I sat at the edge of the booth, resting my chin in my palm and letting out a sigh, just watching them both work for a few moments.


    ¡°You¡¯re really quite smitten, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Ach!¡± I yelped, jumping in my seat and spinning around to find Bart, already mid-slide into the booth opposite me, a wry smile on his grizzled face. ¡°Wha¡­ where the hell did you come from?¡±


    Bart raised one eyebrow, then chuckled. ¡°Nowhere in particular.¡±


    I couldn''t help but roll my eyes.


    ¡°So what did those three want?¡± Bart asked, and I narrowed my eyes at him. Had he seriously been here the whole time without me noticing?


    ¡°They were at the Hunter¡¯s Guild earlier,¡± I said, tapping my license. ¡°They want me to join their hunting party, actually.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I figured,¡± Bart said, nodding. ¡°Those kids¡¯ve been at it for years. What did you tell them?¡±


    ¡°I told them I was busy learning to fish and should probably wait until after the competition, because that was the responsible thing to do,¡± I said, injecting exaggerated smugness into my voice.


    ¡°Heh, that can be difficult at times, can¡¯t it?¡± Bart said with a chuckle and a smile, breaking through his usual demeanor. ¡°At the rate you¡¯re improving, I¡¯d say it won¡¯t be long until you¡¯re skilled enough that Bentley may just choose to call off that senseless wager altogether, rather than risk humiliation.¡±


    Huh. I hadn¡¯t considered that. That would definitely be a huge load off my mind, but could I really get that good in time for it to matter? Well, no sense worrying about it now.


    From there, the night progressed as usual, except for occasional visits from curious sailors, fishermen, or other hunters, who wanted to see my bronze badge with their own eyes. At some point, after about the tenth or so, I looked up from my notebook at Bart and asked, ¡°Hey, so, Cynthia said there''s ¡®ranks¡¯ to this whole pro hunter thing, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± Bart looked up from his own book.


    ¡°What are they? So far I know I''m in bronze, and those three I told you about said they were iron, but that''s it.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Bart lifted his head and nodded, holding up one hand. ¡°Bronze and iron are the lowest ranks, in order, after that it goes from silver, to gold, and finally platinum,¡± Bart said, ticking the names off on his fingers, then holding up just his index finger again. ¡°There is also technically a sixth rank, mithril, but hunters of that level of skill and power are so incredibly rare there are only a handful of mithril ranked hunters across the entire world.¡±


    ¡°Woah,¡± I said, blinking, then bent down to quickly jot down the ranks in my notebook so I wouldn''t forget them. Glancing back up at Bart, I asked, ¡°So, what rank are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m retired,¡± Bart said, lowering his head and picking up his book again.


    ¡°You know what I mean,¡± I said, rolling my eyes. ¡°What rank were you, before that?¡± When Bart didn¡¯t even bother to answer with anything more than a quick glance over the top of his book and a small smirk, I brought a hand up to my forehead. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna tell me, are you?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Bart said, deliberately turning a page. ¡°Perhaps not. I haven¡¯t really considered it.¡±


    ¡°Uuuuugh,¡± I groaned, letting my head drop onto the table. ¡°I¡¯m seeing a whole new side of you too, Bart, and I hate it.¡±


    ¡°I am truly devastated to hear that, Samantha,¡± Bart said dryly. ¡°You break this old man¡¯s heart.¡±


    ¡°Bart, quit teasing her!¡±


    I lifted my head from the table and found Elle waiting at the edge of the booth, an oval shaped plate in hand. Steam was rising from whatever was on it, and as I caught the first whiff I felt my heart quicken a little. Elle beamed at me and leaned forward to set down the plate, revealing a meal that had me struggling not to drool.


    A sizable portion of the catfish waited in the center of the plate, crisped to a mouthwatering golden brown, and even blackened in some spots, with a visible crusting of herbs and spices. To either side of the filet were a small pile of glistening broccoli florets, coated in oil and lightly salted, and several golf ball-sized balls of something crisp and fried. Lastly, two thick wedges of lemon sat on the outer edge of the plate, ready to be squeezed.


    ¡°Oh my¡­ holy¡­ This looks amazing,¡± I gasped, leaning over the plate and taking a sniff. The scent was heavenly, so much so that I felt the corners of my eyes start to prickle. Damnit, how was it possible for any food to smell this good?!


    With trembling hands, I reached for my knife and fork, and sliced off a good sized forkful of the catfish. It parted easily, and I wasted no time in raising the fork to my mouth and clamping down on the succulent-looking flesh. My eyes flew open wide, then squeezed shut tightly, and I had to slap a hand over my mouth to stifle the moan that erupted from my chest. The charred catfish was crisp on the outside, with a noticeable heat from the spices, but sweet and tender on the inside, practically melting before I even started to chew. I savored that first bite as long as I could, then swallowed, detecting a curious aftertaste that was like nothing I¡¯d ever experienced before. My tongue and the inside of my mouth tingled slightly, but not from the heat of the spices, and I felt suddenly energized, like I¡¯d splashed my face with cold water after just waking up. When I opened my eyes, the colors inside the tavern seemed brighter and more vibrant, and I think I was hearing things even more sharply than I usually did.


    ¡°Mmmffh¡­ Felda¡¯s outdone herself¡­¡± I said, speaking through the hand I had pressed to my mouth. Looking up to find both Bart and Elle giving me mixed looks, I turned the fork around in my hand and held it out to Bart, pushing the plate forward. ¡°You have to try some of this!¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, I couldn¡¯t¡ª¡± Bart began to protest, but I shook my head vehemently.


    ¡°Yes you absolutely can! If it weren¡¯t for you, I never would¡¯ve caught this thing, so you should at least try a bite!¡±


    Bart relented, visibly struggling to keep his face flat, and accepted the fork from me, using it to carve off a small portion of the catfish filet, raising it to his mouth. I watched as he chewed, grinning and swishing my tail, feeling a significant amount of personal satisfaction when his eyes widened seemingly of their own accord.


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Bart cleared his throat and returned the fork and plate to me. ¡°It is¡­ quite good. I had forgotten¡­ ah, don¡¯t mind me, enjoy the rest.¡±


    ¡°Elle!¡± I said, snapping my head around and grinning up at Elle so quickly she jumped. ¡°You too, try some!¡±


    Elle blushed, but didn¡¯t offer nearly the same resistance that Bart had. I sliced off a portion for her and held it out, and she leaned down to take it off the fork, closing her eyes and covering her mouth, letting out a delighted squeal.


    ¡°Gods¡­ I¡¯ve had a lot of Felda¡¯s cooking over the years, but¡­ wow¡­¡±


    ¡°Right?¡± I scooted to the edge of the booth, leaning out and calling out, ¡°Mel! C¡¯mere real quick!¡±


    Mel, who was just finishing setting out a pair of plates at a table across the tavern, looked up curiously and, after checking that the patrons she¡¯d just served didn¡¯t need anything else for the moment, hurried over, while several more curious diners also turned to look at the commotion I was making.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Mel asked, her single visible eye brightening as she saw the plate. ¡°Ooh, is this the catfish?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± I said, nodding excitedly and, once again, cut off a forkful and held it out for Mel to sample. Smiling, she leaned down, lightly touching the back of my hand to hold it steady as she took the offered bite, standing up straight and chewing, also letting out a deeply content moan.


    ¡°Mm-mmh! By the bough, the trunk, and the roots, that¡¯s fucking delicious,¡± Mel declared, opening her eye again.


    ¡°Hey now!¡± a voice called from across the tavern, and Elle and Mel turned to look. ¡°What¡¯s that? I want some¡¯a whatever¡¯s got y¡¯all all riled up!¡±


    I leaned around them and cupped my hand around my mouth, calling out ¡°Catfish! Earthshaker catfish, caught fresh just this morning!¡±


    I could see the sailor who had asked, as well as the table he was seated at, confer amongst themselves, before the first one shouted, ¡°Shit, alright, we thought it was a bit much but if it¡¯s even half as good as you¡¯re makin¡¯ it out it¡¯ll be worth it, we¡¯ll take one!¡±


    A susurration ran through the room after that, several more groups breaking out into discussion over whether they wanted to spring for the catfish filet. Elle and Mel exchanged glances, then glanced back at me, then hurried out to the floor, splitting up to take the sudden influx of orders. In the end, there were obviously more people who wanted to try the much-lauded catfish than there was to go around, but those that had ordered some all shared bites with their neighbors, and before long the whole tavern was praising it as one of the best things they¡¯d eaten in months, and in some cases, all year.


    ¡°That was amazing,¡± Elle declared, seated in the booth beside me, she and Mel taking a short break while there were no new orders coming in or refills to give.


    ¡°Yeah, I still can¡¯t believe how good it tasted,¡± I said, having polished off the last of my own plate of catfish, now moving on to the veggies, and the fried lumps that turned out to be little balls of some kind of fluffy dough mixed with corn and onions.


    ¡°No no, I mean¡­ well, yeah, that fish was absolutely delicious, but I mean what you did,¡± Elle said, turning to me with a smile. ¡°Even though she didn¡¯t charge nearly as much as she could¡¯ve, Felda was worried nobody who came here would buy any of the catfish, and you giving it to her would turn out to be a waste.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°I didn¡¯t really do anything, I was just really really excited for you to get to taste some too. I didn¡¯t even mean to make such a scene, but that first bite just got me so jazzed up, I had to share.¡±


    ¡°¡®Jazzed¡¯ up?¡± Mel said curiously, seated on the opposite side of the booth with Bart. She seemed to take an extra moment just considering the word, before her eyebrow raised. ¡°Oh, you mean¡­ oh, yeah, that was probably the rush of mana you were feeling.¡±


    ¡°The wh¡ª¡± I started to say, but caught myself when Mel¡¯s foot tapped urgently against my ankle, much more gently than when she¡¯d done so to Harvey. Right, Bart was still sitting right there. Clearing my throat, I started again. ¡°Oh, right, yes, the mana, of course. How could I forget that?¡±


    Okay, maybe I laid it on a bit thick, but Bart didn¡¯t seem to notice, although Mel did roll her eyes. I really wanted to ask what she meant exactly, but I figured it could wait until later.


    ¡°Though, speaking of mana¡­¡± I began, realizing for the moment I had both Elle and Bart sitting right next to me. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking, y¡¯know, that if there¡¯s a possibility I might end up having to fight other, uh, magic fish, that just being able to move out of the way can only get me so far. I was thinking that maybe it would be good if I had some kind of¡­ offensive option, too?¡±


    Mel, who had already caught on to what I was driving for, snorted and snickered into the back of her hand. Elle glanced at her for a moment, then a look of realization crossed her face, and she mouthed a silent, ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°So, y¡¯know, I¡¯ve got you both here, and I did ask both of you at some point if you¡¯d be willing to teach me some¡­ magic?¡± I looked expectantly from Elle to Bart, but Elle only followed my gaze, looking wide eyed at Bart as well.


    Bart took in our shared expressions and cleared his throat, motioning towards Elle.


    ¡°Ah, I did, but you two¡­ er, you three, that is, are¡­ perhaps it would be best for you¡ª¡±


    ¡°No way, Bart!¡± Elle cut him off, shaking a finger towards him. ¡°You and I both know which of us is the better mage here. I¡¯m still just a student, and sure, I¡¯ve picked up a lot, but you can do a lot of spells I¡¯ve never even heard of! If anyone should teach her, it should be you!¡±


    ¡°She is right,¡± Mel said, turning to Bart and propping herself up with a fist on her cheek. ¡°Both of them, I mean. You said so yourself, one misstep during that fight and Sam could¡¯ve been crushed by a rock. You know fishing better than me, and I know you¡¯re not planning on doing that again any time soon, but if there¡¯s a chance she could end up in a similar situation, don¡¯t you think she ought to have one or two spells under her belt, at least?¡±


    I was grinning like a loon by now, and I hadn¡¯t even had to say anything. Bart looked from Mel, to Ell, and finally to me, before he leaned back into the booth and let out a heavy sigh towards the ceiling.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± he said, making a placating motion with his hand. ¡°Give me a few days to prepare. I am no teacher, and it has been a long time since I received my own schooling, but I promise I will try to teach you some basic spellcasting within the next few days.¡±


    ¡°Awesome!¡± I said, pumping my fist, then holding my hand up to Elle for a high five. Elle, somewhat predictably, just stared at it, then gave me a confused look.


    ¡°What¡­¡±


    Holy shit. There was no way, right?


    ¡°It¡¯s a high five?¡± I said, and when I received blank looks from all three of them, I almost burst out laughing. This world had magic and monsters and floating islands but hadn¡¯t figured out the high five? I was deeply disappointed in all the other Outsiders who came before me, and vowed that I would right the grievous mistake.


    ¡°Here, I¡¯ll show you,¡± I said, reaching for one of Elle¡¯s hands and lifting it up. ¡°Put your palm flat, like mine, and then hold it still, but brace yourself.¡±


    ¡°Uh, okay?¡± Elle said, clearly confused, but seemingly excited to try whatever new thing I was trying to show her. I held up my own hand again, palm out, and slapped it against hers. Not too hard, of course, but enough to make it a proper high five.


    Elle blinked, lowering her hand and looking at her palm.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Mel asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a high five,¡± I repeated, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ it¡¯s for saying ¡®congratulations!¡¯ or ¡®hey, good job!¡¯ or ¡®that was great!¡¯ or stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll never catch on down here,¡± Bart said, a dubious frown on his face. ¡°It works well enough for you and Elle because you¡¯re about the same size, but you¡¯d never pull that off with an orc and a dwarf. Not to mention those claws of yours, there are other, ah, demihumans with ones even bigger, and some types of seadwellers who don¡¯t even have hands.¡± Bart crossed his arms and shook his head, repeating, ¡°It¡¯ll never catch on.¡±


    Hrmph. We¡¯ll just see about that¡­


    Soon enough, Elle and Mel had to return to work. I wanted to pester Bart for more details about when and how I¡¯d be learning magic, but I didn¡¯t want to annoy him. Eventually, the night wound down, the tavern emptied, and I put in my usual contribution to helping Elle and Mel and Felda close up. When it came time for Felda to pass out the night¡¯s payment, I tried to tell her she didn¡¯t need to include any extra from the sale of the catfish, but she was insistent.


    Then, finally, it was time to go with Elle and Mel to the bathhouse.


    (Continued in Part 2)

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.13.2

    (Continued from Part 1)


    ¡°Mmh, I¡¯m actually really glad you suggested this,¡± Mel remarked as we stepped out onto the streets, stretching her arms above her head and groaning. The last of the sunset was fading behind the mountains in the distance, and as we walked I could see several druids going from streetlamp to streetlamp, using step ladders and long staffs to light the lamps.


    ¡°Yeah, we haven¡¯t been for a good long soak in a while,¡± Elle said, walking beside me with my hand held lightly in one of hers.


    ¡°I¡¯m just glad I¡¯ve got you two to go with me,¡± I said, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air and sighing.


    ¡°So, the place you came from doesn¡¯t do baths like we do?¡± Mel asked in Elvish, and I flipped the mental switch on my translation to do the same.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s complicated,¡± I said, tilting my head to the side. ¡°The place I was born, every house has a bathroom with at least a shower, if not a bathtub, and people generally didn¡¯t bathe together. There are minor exceptions like¡­ showering off together after gym, or like, hot tubs, but people usually wear swimsuits to go in one of those. For the most part, it¡¯s considered embarrassing to see or be seen naked by strangers in a public place.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Mel nodded along with my explanation, reaching up and rubbing her chin thoughtfully. ¡°I can kind of get what you mean¡ªwell, the parts of that I understood, anyway¡ªbut it¡¯s still really strange. I¡¯ve heard rumors about Yuusha and the Empire and how strict they are about certain things, like the way people dress out in public, but I¡¯ve never heard of any nation where people are taught to be ashamed of having their bodies seen at all, especially doing something as ordinary as bathing.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ complicated,¡± I said, scrunching up my face in thought. ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t claim to be like, an expert on my own culture. Maybe Morgan could explain it better, if she were here, but¡­¡± I shook my head, quickly dismissing that thought. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s not like the concept is completely unheard of, either. I know for a fact there were other countries out there where bathhouses were still completely commonplace, and I¡¯m willing to bet if I¡¯d come from one of those I¡¯d have no problem with this, but¡­¡±


    I trailed off, unsure of what else to say, and Mel reached down, gently scratching at the back of my head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get used to it.¡±


    ¡°A-ah.. yeah, I guess I¡¯ll have to¡­¡± I stammered, flushing at the implication. She was right, unless I wanted to forgo baths entirely, or take up bathing in the river, I¡¯d have to get used to it.


    Eventually, as we made our way further and further north from the docks, we came upon a street that seemed way too lively for being so late. Several of the buildings were still fully lit and occupied, and I¡¯d also noticed a lot more people out and about on the streets than I¡¯d expected to find at this hour. Through the window of one building, I caught a glimpse of what looked like a tavern, similar to Felda¡¯s, with plenty of people chatting and drinking.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, flicking one of my ears at the lively sounds running up and down the street.


    ¡°What?¡± Elle asked, glancing around as if there was something she was expecting to see.


    ¡°Nothing, it¡¯s just, I¡¯m kinda surprised there¡¯s still this many places open this late,¡± I said, gesturing at the well lit buildings. ¡°I kind of thought this whole village would be dead quiet once everybody went to bed.¡±


    ¡°Sam,¡± Mel said, chuckling and arching her eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s a pub, it¡¯s open for most of the night.¡± At my confused look, she laughed even harder. ¡°Do you really think everybody in this town goes to sleep at the same time? Or keeps the same hours?¡±


    I opened my mouth to say ¡°Yeah?¡± but realized immediately how ridiculous that assumption had been in the first place. I¡¯d met those guards who patrolled at night during my run, but I figured they were more the exception to the rule. Between people who worked nights, demihumans who were nocturnal, and people who just enjoyed staying up late, there were probably plenty of reasons for all night establishments. Hell, I hadn¡¯t even considered it, but we were on our way to a bathhouse that probably got most of its business after everyone else finished their work days.


    ¡°It¡¯s honestly a miracle I haven¡¯t been figured out yet,¡± I said, sighing and letting my head rest against Mel¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I get so many things wrong about how basically anything around here works. If I didn¡¯t have the ¡®runaway catgirl from High Society¡¯ thing to fall back on I¡¯d be screwed.¡±


    The three of us shared a laugh at that, then continued to meander down the street, passing by other people on their  way to enjoy the evening somewhere. We had travelled a lot further north from the docks than I think I¡¯d ever been, and the difference was definitely noticeable everywhere I looked. It wasn¡¯t like the buildings closer to the docks were shabby or run down or anything, but everything up here seemed to have that much more attention to detail applied to it. All the buildings were vibrantly painted and elaborately decorated, and the people we passed by matched, often wearing more showy, expensive looking custom made clothing like the kind that Dani and the other high end tailors sold.


    For a moment, I started to feel awkward and underdressed, even in the custom clothes I''d gotten from Dani myself, but then Elle¡¯s grip tightened on my hand, and Mel¡¯s arm draped itself across my shoulders, and my doubts evaporated, along with most of my other thoughts. We continued to chat idly as we walked, until Mel pulled us up short.


    ¡°Alright, here we are,¡± Mel announced, nodding up at a building that definitely stood out, even amongst the higher end establishments we¡¯d been passing by. Where most of the buildings I¡¯d seen around the village were a mix of wood and stone with glass windows, this one¡¯s exterior was entirely stone, with a wide-open doorway flanked by two carved statues of some kind of long snake-fish thing.


    The bathhouse was huge, very wide and very tall with a gently sloping roof, taking up twice the space of either of its neighbors, and as I walked across the threshold with Elle and Mel, I felt an immediate shift in the temperature. While the air outside had been just shy of being cool enough to require thicker clothes, the air inside the spacious reception area we¡¯d stepped into was balmy and humid, and I was immediately glad my shirt didn¡¯t have any sleeves.


    The reception area itself had a curved desk opposite the entrance, pressed up against the wall with a honeycomb of little cubby holes behind it, and two more empty doorways to either side of it. Like the doorway into the bathhouse itself, these were empty, covered only by long curtains of strung up seashells and glass beads that clattered gently in the breeze that blew in from the outside. To the left and right of the entryway were two squat corridors, each with a set of four rectangular alcoves about the size of a closet built into their walls. These were covered by a much more substantial heavy cloth curtain hung on a metal rod, and as I watched, one of those curtains was pushed aside. An elven man with green and red speckled skin stepped out, wearing a loose robe of some thin-but-fluffy-looking material and carrying a small folded bundle in his other hand.


    The man approached the counter and handed the bundle off to the only person who seemed to be on duty; an older woman with maroon skin, covered in incredibly fine scales, her wavy black hair pulled back into a loose and messy bun. She was a fish per¡ªer, a sea dweller, like Fynn had been, with fin-shaped ears and bits of webbing between her clawed fingers, and as she smiled at something the robed man had said, I saw that her teeth all came to sharp little points.


    Finally, the man stepped away and passed through one of the beaded doorways, and the older woman turned and stowed the man¡¯s belongings in one of the cubby holes set into the wall behind the desk.


    ¡°Evening, Madam Ikeda,¡± Mel called, giving a lazy wave with her free arm as we all approached the desk together.


    ¡°Mmmh?¡± Madam Ikeda hummed gently and turned back from securing the locker, giving Mel a thin lipped smile. ¡°Ah, Melody, Eleanore, how nice to see you again.¡± Her eyes focused on me, pressed between the pair, and she inclined her head forward, lifting her eyebrows. ¡°I do not believe we¡¯ve met, young miss¡­?¡±


    ¡°Uh, Sam?¡± I offered.


    Elle leaned over and whispered gently into my ear, in Elvish, ¡°She wants your full name.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry, Samantha Fisher,¡± I hastily corrected, and Madam Ikeda nodded her head again.


    ¡°Young Miss Fisher,¡± she said, drawing herself up to her full height, which wasn¡¯t much but still made her look very imposing. ¡°I am Madam Ikeda. I¡¯m given to understand that you are a newcomer to the surface?¡± I opened my mouth to try and give some kind of explanation, but thought better of it, and just settled on nodding. ¡°Then I will give you a quick summary of the rules you will be expected to adhere to while partaking of the services here, which may differ from what you are used to. First, robes must be left on until you have passed the first corner of either hallway behind me, and must be put back on before you return to this foyer. Second, it is requested that you use the showers to clean yourself first, before entering any of the bathing pools; there are many complimentary soaps and lotions, as well as shampoo and oils for your hair and fur provided. Third, and most important, this facility is a place of relaxation for all, and to that end we ask that you try to limit outbursts of violence, roughhousing, intentionally disturbing your fellow patrons, or over-enthusiastic expressions of affection in the public areas.¡±


    That last bit seemed directed less at me and more at the pair of elves to either side of me, both of whom fidgeted slightly and turned their heads away, muttering a few quick words of apology and reassurance.


    ¡°Uh, yeah, I can do all that,¡± I said, drawing Madam Ikeda¡¯s attention back to me. ¡°Though, speaking of public areas, I was told I could also ask for a private bath?¡±


    One of Madam Ikeda¡¯s neatly trimmed eyebrows slowly rose at that, and I could feel both Elle and Mel having gone suddenly stiff beside me. I glanced up first at Mel, then Elle, finding them both giving me the same expression of unmasked surprise, mixed with amusement in Mel¡¯s case. I didn¡¯t really have time to ask them what the big deal was, because Madam Ikeda spoke up again.


    ¡°You understand that will cost more than the regular entrance fee?¡± she asked, and I nodded, reaching into my pocket, where I¡¯d stowed a small sack with a decent handful of mixed coins.


    ¡°Yeah, I figured. How much is it, exactly?¡± I asked, and beside me Mel¡¯s head jerked and she snorted into a clenched fist.


    ¡°The cost is one golden crab for the private chamber, or one and a half if you also wish to have a selection of refreshments delivered to your room,¡± Madam Ikeda explained, unphased by either Elle or Mel¡¯s reactions. Huh, that was kind of a lot, but I was currently more flush than I ever expected to be, especially so soon, so I nodded and dug out my coin pouch, poking around inside and drawing out one gold crab and five silver clams, laying them on the counter.


    By now, Elle and Mel had detached from me and taken a minute step back from the counter, and were having some kind of furiously whispered conversation behind me while Madam Ikeda scooped up the coins and deposited them in a lockbox. She turned to a small rack next to the cubby holes and selected from a set of little rectangular tablets made of smooth, polished wood, with a zig-zagging edge carved into one end and a hole at the other, through which a small loop of cord had been strung.


    ¡°Here is your key for the private bath; be sure to return it when you leave.¡± I accepted the odd key and slipped it onto my wrist, while Madam Ikeda bent down below the counter, coming back up with a small tower of folded cloth. ¡°Here are your robes; you may use the adjacent alcoves to change.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, accepting the bundle, and almost gasped at the feel of the material the robes were made of. Despite how warm the reception area was, the robes were slightly cool to the touch, and I immediately wondered if that was the work of magic, or some special fabric, or both.


    ¡°Oh, here,¡± I said, selecting one robe from the top and turning to offer the other two to Elle and Mel.


    ¡°Heh, yeah, thanks,¡± Mel said, accepting the robe with a rolling chuckle and throwing it over her shoulder, turning and heading towards one of the changing rooms.


    Elle seemed to be having trouble either forming words or looking directly at me, and her cheeks were flushed green. My stomach lurched, but before I could ask what monumental mistake I¡¯d just made without knowing it, Elle snatched the remaining robe and scurried off to change as well.


    ¡°Ah¡­geez.¡± I sighed, figuring I¡¯d just have to wait until we were inside to ask. I followed them into the changing area to the left, selecting one of the other unoccupied changing rooms and stepping into it, pulling the curtain closed behind me. Inside, there was only a simple wooden bench running the full length of the tiny alcove, with a few hooks built into the walls at different heights, and more than enough space to place everything down as I undressed. I was glad, mostly, that there was no mirror in the room, as I picked up the robe and slipped it on, tying it tightly around my waist. Just as I¡¯d thought, even as it warmed against my body, it still remained just ever so slightly cool enough to balance out the heat in the air without completely invalidating it. It was also light as a feather, and I got the impression it would be a terrible idea to move about too much too quickly while wearing it.


    Collecting my clothes and my sandals, I exited the changing room, finding Elle and Mel already changed, and again talking amongst themselves. Luckily, they seemed too absorbed in conversation to notice when I did an almost textbook double take at the sight of them.


    How did I ever let Bart convince me this was a good idea?


    Tearing my eyes away before they could notice, I hurried past them towards the desk.


    ¡°Here you go,¡± I said, handing over my clothes to Madam Ikeda, who turned and stowed them in a locker, then repeated the process for Elle and Mel as well.


    ¡°Please, enjoy your stay,¡± Madam Ikeda finally said, half bowing and motioning with one arm to the beaded curtains. Since there didn¡¯t seem to be any visible marking or symbol denoting there was any difference between the two, I assumed they both went to the same place and picked the left, mostly out of habit. Pushing through the beads, the corridor beyond was even warmer than the lobby, and wide enough for the three of us to walk side by side with plenty of room to allow another party of two to pass without having to squeeze out of the way to avoid each other.


    I unconsciously sought out and squeezed my girlfriends¡¯ hands as we got further down the corridor and approached the first corner, around which the sounds of water in motion and many people talking at polite volumes were drifting. I forced myself to breathe slowly, something that was helped by just how much moisture was in the air now, and rounded the corner.


    The room beyond was the single largest interior I¡¯d ever seen since coming to this world, easily the size of a small warehouse, consisting of one huge mostly-open space with a tall, sweeping ceiling. The main bulk of the room was devoted to an entirely stone-floored area, with four recessed pits ringed by ankle-high barriers that formed four sizable pools of water. Even from this distance, I could spot dozens of people scattered around the bathhouse; sitting half-submerged in the baths, perched on the edges, or sunk so low only their heads were visible above the water.


    Before we could reach the bathing area though, we had to pass through the showers. They were similar to the changing areas, except formed by two walls of stone with large alcoves carved into them, set up facing each other so they formed a short, open-topped mini chamber, with the entrance from the lobby on one end and the bathing area on the other end. This setup was repeated several times end to end, forming a connected row of showering rooms that stretched all the way across the floor, so that it was impossible to enter the bathing area without passing an available shower stall.


    To my not inconsiderable relief, it appeared that everyone didn¡¯t choose to just immediately discard their robes as soon as they entered. Plenty were still wearing theirs as they walked about, though whether or not they kept them tied up was a different story. Still, after my initial look around, I got the feeling I was going to be spending most of my time here admiring either the ceiling or the floor. Though, speaking of, both weren¡¯t too bad to look at, actually; both the floor and the ceiling were covered by large square tiles made of an interesting dark blue-green stone¡­


    ¡°Sam, you alright?¡±


    Mel¡¯s voice snapped me back to reality, and I jerked my head back up.


    ¡°Ah, sorry,¡± I said quickly, shaking my head to clear it. ¡°Just got a little¡­ distracted. I guess we gotta shower first?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Elle said, tugging me by the hand. Stacked up right beside the entrance were several lightweight wooden baskets, and Elle scooped one up in her free hand, nodding at me to take one as well. Then she led me into one of the showering chambers, each one with a set of three shower stalls standing opposite each other, for a total of six. There was a waist high shelf with a staggering amount of bottles, jars, and lumps of soap arranged across its surface, and I simply stared, paralyzed by choice, while Elle set her basket down and began selecting things to put in it.


    ¡°There, that should do,¡± Elle said, having put two bottles and a bar of pink-colored soap into her basket. She turned to me, offering a small smile, and asked, ¡°Do you want some help?¡± Before I could answer, her eyes widened and she held up a hand. ¡°A-ah! I mean, with deciding what to pick! I¡¯m sure you can¡­ handle the rest?¡±


    Huh. Elle was starting to look as nervous as I felt, and I knew I couldn¡¯t chalk her flushed cheeks entirely up to the heat from the pools. But didn¡¯t she and Mel do this all the time? I would¡¯ve figured they¡¯d both be used to it by now.


    ¡°Uh, sure, I don¡¯t really know what all I¡¯m looking at here,¡± I said, placing my basket on the shelf. Elle nodded, squeezing my hand and then starting to poke through the collection.


    ¡°Okay, well, here¡¯s the shampoo,¡± Elle said, selecting a bottle of frosted purple glass. ¡°That goes on first. This one is scented with lavender, now let¡¯s see¡­ here, this is for after the shampoo, it¡¯s oil to keep your hair and fur soft; it¡¯s meant to be left in, so don¡¯t use too much.¡± She added a small green jar beside the purple bottle, then grabbed a second bar of pale pink soap and a folded square of cloth the size of a napkin. ¡°And this is, well, soap and a wash rag, and I hope you already know what to do with that. That one¡¯s my favorite, apple blossom, but, uh, you could pick another one if you want.¡±


    ¡°No, no, that sounds great,¡± I said, smiling gratefully at Elle and picking up my basket, leaning down to give the brick of soap a quick sniff. Elle let out a relieved giggle, then looked pointedly down at where our fingers were still intertwined. I jumped slightly and released her hand, and she giggled again.


    ¡°C¡¯mon you two, quit standing around being cute at each other and wash up,¡± Mel called, her voice coming from the other side of one of the opaque curtains that covered the shower stalls.


    ¡°R-right,¡± Elle said, turning and bustling towards an open stall, glancing back over her shoulder at me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about us, you take as long as you need to.¡± Saying that, she stepped up to her stall and removed her¡ªach!


    I spun around while Elle hung her robe on a provided hook, all but running into one of the other remaining showers. I pulled the curtain, some thin but thankfully opaque material, closed across the entrance before I removed my own robe, and let my back rest against the cool stone wall.


    ¡°This is a disaster¡­¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°I wonder if it¡¯s still not too late to just take up washing in the river¡­¡±


    Well, despite what Elle said, I didn¡¯t want to keep them waiting while I hemmed and hawed. Taking stock of the shower stall itself, I found it almost disarmingly familiar. There was a thick pipe jutting out of the wall that ended in a wide funneled nozzle with many holes in it, above two knobs, all made of¡­


    ¡°I really need to learn what the differences between copper and bronze are,¡± I sighed to myself, reaching for the leftmost knob while standing well out of the way of the nozzle. Water began to gush forth, and a quick check told me that, through some unknowable cosmic coincidence, this world still put the hot knob on the left, and the cold one on the right. Adjusting both knobs, which was much easier to do than fiddling with one of those annoying single knob setups, I managed to get the water to the perfect temperature and quickly stepped into the spray.


    For the first few minutes or so, I just savored the sensation of hot water rushing over me, rinsing my face and running down my back to disappear down a drain in the floor. Eventually, I reached for the basket Elle had prepared for me, starting with the tall purple bottle. Popping the cork, I cautiously poured out a palmful of the viscous liquid inside, giving it a tentative sniff. It definitely smelled like lavender, with traces of other stronger smells I couldn¡¯t really identify. Shrugging, I dumped it onto the top of my head, then poured out a little more straight from the bottle and began to work it into my hair with both hands. It quickly formed a thick, soapy foam, and I suspected I might have used a bit too much, but figured it wasn¡¯t a big deal. Next, I dubiously eyed the jar of oil, deciding I would worry about that last. I grabbed the soap and washcloth, and again spent a minute or more just luxuriating in the feeling of scrubbing myself clean of what felt like way too much dirt for not even having spent a week in this world.


    It was at about that moment, mid-shower, that I realized that with the way this place operated, it was entirely possible to just show up, shower off, and then leave without actually entering the bathing area. In fact, I was certain some people did exactly that, and that next time¡ªif I even survived this time¡ªI could probably just do that when I was feeling in need of a wash.


    ¡°Fffffffuck¡­¡± I hissed out slowly, letting my forehead thump against the wall of the shower. Well, it wasn¡¯t the end of the world. I definitely wasn¡¯t going and asking for a refund.


    Rinsing myself off, I returned to the little green jar, opening it and finding it to be filled with a thick, translucent, honey-colored substance that smelled like nuts. Elle said I was supposed to leave it in, so I stepped out of the spray of the shower and dipped two fingers into the oil, pulling up a sizable glob of it and dumping it in the center of my scalp. It was a bit harder to spread than the shampoo, and it definitely made me realize my mass of orange hair was a lot thicker than I thought, but I eventually achieved what I felt like was a decent amount of coverage, even remembering to work some into my ears. Lastly, I pulled my tail around in front of me and rubbed some of the oil into it as well, starting from the base and working my way down the length, until I was running my fingers through the last strands of fur at the very tip of my tail.


    Satisfied, I used the shower to rinse as much of the oil from my hands as I could, then shut off the spray, reaching out through the curtain for my robe and tugging it back on. I spent a few short moments just breathing in deep through my nose, assuring myself that I could do this, that everything would be fine.


    Pushing back the curtain, I stepped out of the shower, and found Elle and Mel waiting for me, thankfully still robed as well. Both of them turned at my approach, smiling, and I¡ª


    Woah¡­


    Both Elle and Mel had pushed their wet hair back away from their faces, but I stumbled slightly as I got my first ever look at the right side of Mel¡¯s face, the side that until now I had only ever seen covered by a curtain of her long dark-purple hair. There were two long, jagged parallel lines of pale white skin that ran diagonally from the top of her brow to about the middle of her cheek, narrowly missing her eye on either side. It was a scar, I realized, one that stood out against Mel¡¯s dark purple skin, and I immediately felt bad for how obviously I¡¯d stopped to stare. I could only imagine how awkward and uncomfortable that must have made Mel feel.


    ¡°Pretty sweet, huh?¡± Mel asked, breaking into a grin and turning her head even further, to give me a better viewing angle on that side of her face.


    Okay, maybe I couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°Ah, uh, I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to stare,¡± I hastily said, but Mel just laughed off my concerns.


    ¡°What? Why? It¡¯s not like I mind, I¡¯ve had these since I was a kid, and they¡¯re not exactly easy to miss,¡± Mel said, cocking her head slightly.


    ¡°O-oh, I mean, I just figured you were self-conscious about them, since you usually keep that side covered,¡± I said, furrowing my brows. Why else would she wear her hair like that?


    ¡°Oh, that?¡± Mel scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. ¡°That¡¯s just so I don¡¯t get into it with the patrons at the tavern. You have no idea how easy it is to end up with sailors and fishermen ripping their shirts off to compare scars. That, and I just like wearing my hair that way.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± I said, letting myself relax again. Well, as much as I could. Honestly, the sooner I got into the bath, the better.


    Mel chuckled again, motioning for me to come closer, which I did.


    ¡°Alright, well, since you went and paid for a private room, let¡¯s go find it,¡± Mel said, reaching for the wrist that I¡¯d looped the polished wooden key around. She turned it over, finding the number three that was etched into one side, then turned around and began to lead the way through the main bathing area. Taking one more deep breath, I latched onto Elle¡¯s side and held on for dear life, keeping my head down and staring fixedly at the backs of Mel¡¯s legs the whole time, relying on Elle to steer me out of the way of any obstacles. We only walked a short while before Mel came to a sudden stop. I cautiously raised my eyes, and found we¡¯d navigated to the far-left side of the building, where a row of widely spaced doors¡ªyes, actual doors this time, made of wood¡ªran along the wall. There was no knob, but rather a small circle of darker wood where a knob would be, with a little indentation that the key I¡¯d been provided slotted into perfectly. Twisting the key in my hand, I felt the lock give, and the door opened inward, allowing the three of us to enter the private bathing room.


    My first thought was that I¡¯d somehow entered an empty storage room instead of our private room, but I quickly realized we¡¯d actually entered a small entrance corridor, and the bathing room was beyond it. As I closed the door behind us, I noticed there were two sets of dark, oddly thick-looking curtains hung up over both the door, and the doorway to the bath. Otherwise, there wasn¡¯t anything remarkable aside from a small shelf which sat empty, so I continued into the next chamber.


    The private bath was, predictably, a scaled down version of the main bathing area, with a circular pit taking up most of the center of the room, but there were also a row of tiered wooden benches around the outer edges, and a stone shelf jutting out of one wall similar to the one near the showers, a small collection of bottles and jars arrayed across it. Steam hung thick in the air, with only a small row of thin slitted windows near the top of the ceiling to let it dissipate, and I immediately felt my robe begin to stick to my skin.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Mel began, clapping her hands together behind me. I turned to look back at her and Elle, and she fixed her eyes on me with a growing smirk. ¡°I think there''s something we should clear up before we proceed.¡±


    ¡°O-okay?¡± I said, turning around and facing the pair, fidgeting nervously with one of the edges of my robe. Again, Elle seemed similarly uncomfortable, holding a hand to her head and lightly massaging her forehead.


    ¡°First, who was it that suggested you ask for a private bath?¡± Mel asked, and I tilted my head.


    ¡°Uh, Bart? He said that would probably help with my nerves, because of the whole¡­ ¡®big room full of naked strangers¡¯ thing.¡±


    ¡°Ah, makes sense,¡± Mel said, nodding and grinning wider. ¡°Probably could''ve guessed that, it''s easy to forget sometimes that Bart isn''t from around here.¡±


    ¡°W-what? Why, what did I do?¡± I asked, my worry immediately ratcheting up several notches.


    ¡°Oh, rot take me,¡± Elle groaned in Elvish, lifting her head from her hand. ¡°You didn''t do anything wrong, Sam, really, and now that you say it it makes total sense, but¡­ well, like you said, it''s a matter of culture. Torgard¡¯s culture isn''t one that sees any particular reason to be ashamed about doing something as innocuous as bathing among your friends or neighbors. Typically, it''s assumed the only time anyone ever requests a private room at a public bath like this is¡­ when they¡­¡±


    ¡°When they plan to do something more than just bathe,¡± Mel said, and Elle nodded wordlessly in agreement.


    ¡°Wha¡­¡± I narrowed my eyes, then immediately felt them pop open wide as the implication of what Mel had said hit me like a truck. ¡°Oh! Oooh¡­ Oh my god¡­¡± I felt heat rising to my cheeks that had nothing to do with how warm the room was, and brought my hands up in front of my face. I mentally replayed the interaction at the front desk and groaned. ¡°So then¡­ Madam Ikeda, she thought I¡­ she thinks we''re¡­¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± Mel said, with her familiar, far-too-casual tone for what was, objectively, a disastrous situation. ¡°Honestly, it was pretty smooth, the way you just came out and asked for it, completely casual. That was what tipped me off that you didn¡¯t actually have any idea what you were doing.¡±


    ¡°Of course I didn¡¯t!¡± I cried, holding my hands to my forehead. ¡°I would never¡­ I mean!¡± I immediately bit my tongue, holding my hands up. ¡°T-that¡¯s not what I mean, I just¡­ I wouldn¡¯t¡­ I mean we haven¡¯t even known each other for a week yet!¡±


    ¡°Sam, Sam, it¡¯s alright,¡± Elle hastily cut in, moving to my side and tentatively putting a hand on my shoulder. ¡°We understand, we know you weren¡¯t trying to pull something. I won¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t¡­ very surprised when you asked for this room, but it¡¯s obvious it was just a simple mistake.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and hey, honestly, I can¡¯t complain,¡± Mel said, putting her hands on her hips and glancing around the room with a grin. ¡°I never really got the appeal of paying a whole crab and a half when we could just go home after the bath and¡ªow!¡±


    Elle had turned, still keeping one hand on my shoulder, but using the other to give Mel¡¯s upper arm a quick swat. Mel chuckled and cleared her throat, rubbing her arm idly as she continued.


    ¡°What I mean is, there¡¯s definitely nothing wrong if this is what you need to feel comfortable, y¡¯know?¡± Mel said, giving me a soft smile. ¡°It¡¯s still hard sometimes to wrap my head around the idea that you¡¯re from somewhere else entirely, and stuff that might come easy to me and Elle could be the exact opposite for you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I said, my shoulders sagging slightly as the tension went out of them. Honestly, it was too hot to be getting so worked up. ¡°I wanna do my best to roll with the stuff that¡¯s strange to me. Like, where I came from, the idea of sharing a bath with someone you just started dating would be completely unheard of, but you two didn¡¯t even bat an eye when I asked you to come here. That seems so strange to me, but it¡¯s just¡­ how things are here, and the sooner I get used to it all, the better, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Mel said, nodding and reaching to lightly tousle my slicked-up hair.


    ¡°Right,¡± Elle agreed, then, slowly at first so as not to startle me, pulled me in by the shoulder for a quick hug. I squeezed her back, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, feeling like a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders.


    The sound of the door opening startled all three of us, and we turned as one, making wide-eyed eye contact with a robed young man with dark green scales, who had stepped into the entrance corridor holding an oblong covered tray with both hands. Mel chuckled and went out to meet him, but my heart was beating too loudly in my ears for me to overhear the brief exchange between them. Mel accepted the tray and the young man bowed his head, backing up to the door and slipping right back out the way he came.


    ¡°Did you forget you paid for these, too?¡± Mel asked, carrying the tray over to the stone shelf and lifting the lid, revealing a small dish of berries resting in ice, as well as a stoppered clay bottle and three small cups.


    ¡°I did, actually,¡± I said, breaking apart from Elle and tilting my head in for a closer look. ¡°What is that?¡± I asked, nodding at the bottle while grabbing a strawberry from the pile and tossing it into my mouth.


    ¡°If I know Madam Ikeda, probably sweet pear wine,¡± Mel said with a dry chuckle, lifting the bottle and tugging out the cork, taking a quick sniff before nodding. ¡°Yup, spot on.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, chewing thoughtfully. ¡°She didn¡¯t even check if we were old enough to drink.¡± Elle and Mel just stared back at me, and I felt like slapping my forehead again. Swallowing, I explained, ¡°Ah, right, where I came from you had to be over twenty-one before you could drink alcohol.¡±


    The pair continued to stare, both of their eyebrows climbing even higher, before Mel broke out into an extended, wheezing laugh, raising the clay bottle towards her lips. ¡°Sam,¡± Mel said, shaking her head. ¡°That¡¯s the strangest thing I¡¯ve ever heard.¡±


    Saying that, she tipped the bottle up just enough to take a small sip.


    ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t exactly a hard law to break,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°A lot of the coolest kids had older siblings that would buy alcohol for them if they were having a party or something. I¡­ didn¡¯t go to a lot of those parties, but I heard about them.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve never¡­?¡± Elle asked, also reaching for a few of the chilled berries.


    ¡°Once or twice,¡± I said, chuckling slightly. ¡°Though I kind of have the feeling that nothing I drank back home can compare to whatever¡­ fantastical brews pass for normal drinks around here.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°Sam, it¡¯s just wine, not a potion,¡± Mel said, pushing the cork back into the bottle and placing it back on the tray. ¡°Well, either way, it¡¯s entirely up to you if you want to try some.¡±


    I looked from her to the bottle thoughtfully. This wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d considered this world¡¯s lack of a drinking age. I always figured if I did wind up sampling anything harder than lemonade in this world, it would be through Felda and the tavern, but this didn¡¯t seem like a terrible alternative.


    ¡°In the meantime,¡± Mel said, motioning at the array of glass bottles taking up the rest of the shelf space. ¡°We should probably actually get in the bath at some point. Elle, you know all this stuff, why don¡¯t you get us set up.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right!¡± Elle said, clapping excitedly and turning and regarding the rainbow of glass before her. She hummed thoughtfully to herself as she began poking around, starting a small collection in the crook of one arm.


    ¡°What is all that anyway?¡± I asked, helping myself to another berry.


    ¡°Salts and fragrances,¡± Elle explained happily, turning and heading over to the gently steaming pool of water in the center of the room, kneeling down next to the edge. ¡°One for soothing the muscles, one because, well, who doesn¡¯t like to smell nice?¡±


    Huh. Fair enough. I watched in mild fascination as Elle opened the many jars she¡¯d carried over and grabbed several fistfuls of pale salts, tossing them into the water, then repeating the process with two bottles of something that caused the room to immediately fill with an almost dizzying bouquet of floral scents.


    Mel, meanwhile, had picked up the tray again and moved to join Elle in kneeling by the edge, setting the tray on the floor where it would be within arms reach of¡­


    Oh.


    They were both looking up at me expectantly now, and Mel gave me a little smirk. Right. I guess there was no putting this off any longer.


    ¡°Ah, uh, right,¡± I said, stepping over to join them on the edge of the pool, carefully taking a seat beside the other two.


    ¡°Are you going to be alright?¡± Elle asked gently, and I bit my lip and nodded.


    ¡°I think so,¡± I said, staring down at my own hands drumming away on my lap. ¡°As¡­ weird as it may seem to me, this is the norm around here, and I¡¯m going to have to get used to it¡­ eventually.¡± Lifting my eyes, I gave the pair a tiny, nervous smile. ¡°And this doesn¡¯t seem like the worst way to practice.¡±


    ¡°Hah!¡± Mel laughed, turning so her back was to me, swinging her legs down into the water. ¡°Smooth, Sam, very smooth.¡±


    Elle turned to face the pool as well, and patted the stone surface beside her. I scooted forward, letting my legs dangle into the bath, and let out a quiet sigh as I felt for the first time just how pleasantly warm the water was. We sat there in silence for a few moments, and I wondered if one of us should do a countdown or something, before immediately realizing that would just be¡­ weird.


    Then, out of the corner of my eye, Elle and Mel wordlessly shrugged off their robes, folding them loosely and laying them on the stone behind them before sliding into the bath. With my eyes rolled almost all the way up in my head, and took a deep breath and shucked my own robe, tossing it hastily over my shoulder and all but diving into the water. I sank in up to my neck, and a long, satisfied groan drifted up out of my mouth as the hot water seemed to immediately seep into my very bones.


    ¡°Holy¡­ shit¡­¡± I sighed between breaths, taking a seat on a submerged step, leaning my back against the interior of the pool and letting my head hit the edge. ¡°Oh, that feels so good¡­¡±


    ¡°Sam.¡± Mel chuckled from somewhere off to my right. ¡°If you keep carrying on like that, people are definitely going to assume we¡¯re up to something in here.¡±


    ¡°Shh¡­¡± I raised a boneless arm and slapped it ineffectually in Mel¡¯s direction. ¡°Too¡­ relaxed¡­ to be embarrassed¡­¡±


    ¡°Is that a challenge?¡±


    I nearly did jolt upright at that, until I heard Mel yelp and giggle, followed by some light splashing. ¡°O-okay, okay, I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    ¡°Melody Moonglow, behave yourself,¡± Elle admonished, and I snickered at what I could only imagine was going on out of my field of view, which right now consisted entirely of the ceiling. I felt movement in the water, and a presence beside me, and I heard the serving tray being dragged closer.


    Lifting my head, I found Mel beside me, leaning out over the edge of the pool. She met my gaze out of the corner of her eye and smirked, wiggling the clay bottle of wine between two of her fingers.


    ¡°Would you like to try some?¡± she asked before pulling the cork with her teeth, tipping the bottle and pouring a portion of very clear, off-yellow liquid into one of the small clay cups.


    Sitting up a little straighter, I nodded, keeping my eyes carefully above shoulder level while Mel grabbed another cup, and poured another serving, handing it over to me. I held it with both hands, savoring the curious sensation of the cool clay surface of the cup against my warm fingers. I sniffed curiously at the clear liquid, but if it was meant to smell like pears, it was lost in the storm of fragrances coming off the bath water. I shrugged, and lifted the cup, taking a miniscule sip. I felt my face and cheeks scrunch up slightly as the strong taste of alcohol hit my tongue first, followed by a sweet, fruity aftertaste.


    ¡°Bleh¡­¡± I said after I¡¯d swallowed, opening my mouth and taking a few breaths to soothe the slight afterburn. ¡°It¡¯s very strong.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s strong to you?¡± Mel asked, clearly amused, clearly having a much easier time sipping from her cup. ¡°I guess that¡¯s what happens when you never drink until you¡¯re over two decades old.¡±


    ¡°Shush,¡± I said, playfully poking my tongue out at her before going back for a second sip. It was only marginally easier than the first one, but I was also able to notice more of the actual flavors behind the alcohol. It was¡­ pretty nice. The tart pear flavor was especially refreshing after so much of what I¡¯d drank lately had been so sweet.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give her too much now,¡± Elle said, having swam back over and also propped herself up on the edge of the pool, a few feet off to my left.


    ¡°Hey, I know my own limits,¡± I said, crossing my arms. Elle lifted her head and cracked open one eye, looking pointedly at me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you when one of us has to carry you home,¡± she said, smiling and laying her head back down.


    ¡°Psh,¡± I scoffed, and just out of spite, took an extra large third sip, draining the small cup. Okay, it was still really strong, and I did my absolute best not to gag loud enough for Elle to notice. Turning back to Mel, I held the cup up for a refill, vowing to have just one more, and to take it slower this time.


    ¡°So,¡± Mel spoke as she carefully poured. ¡°Think you¡¯re getting the hang of it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah, it just takes some getting used to, but it tastes really good,¡± I said, and Mel snorted.


    ¡°Not the wine,¡± she said, rolling her eyes and smirking. ¡°I mean, you know, you? Us? Here in the water?¡± She met my eyes, or rather, tried to, realizing for the first time that I was staring fixedly at a point somewhere about her forehead, and she chuckled again. ¡°You haven¡¯t even taken a glance, have you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ trying!¡± I lied, gripping the little cup tighter in my hands, dropping my gaze from Mel¡¯s forehead to the clear liquid inside. ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯s you, either of you, I promise, it¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s hard to try and suddenly forget a whole lifetime¡¯s worth of instincts and reservations, especially about stuff as¡­ y¡¯know, intimate as seeing someone naked for the first time, even without the whole dating aspect. I¡¯m having to throw basically everything I thought I knew about romance out the window!¡±


    Mel nodded slowly out of the corner of my eye, just letting me rant until I ran out of steam. I stared at my own reflection in the small cup, gathering myself, reminding myself I was supposed to be relaxing.


    ¡°Can I ask you something?¡± Mel asked, her tone soft and gentle, lacking her usual casual joviality. I swallowed and nodded, and she propped herself up on one elbow beside me. ¡°You almost act like you¡¯re afraid something bad might happen if you do look. Could you maybe explain what you think that might be?¡±


    Huh. When Mel got like this, she almost sounded like a therapist. Or, rather, what my impression of what a therapist sounded like, based on Morgan¡¯s recounting.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said, lifting my eyes up towards the ceiling again. ¡°Logically? Nothing. I mean, you¡¯re almost literally asking me to, but¡­ well, back in my world, back when I was still¡­ Y¡¯know, I used to get caught staring at the girls in my class, and I¡¯d get teased or bullied for it for weeks.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I half-turned my head at the sound of Elle¡¯s voice, closer than she had been before.


    ¡°Because, that kind of behaviour is considered rude, or weird, or creepy, or whatever the other kids came up with,¡± I said somberly, giving a lazy shrug.


    ¡°Aah¡­¡± Mel made a noise of understanding, also sounding closer than I remembered her being. ¡°They thought you were making unwanted advances on them?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, something like that,¡± I said, dropping my eyes again. I could feel fresh heat blooming in my cheeks, but this time it wasn¡¯t because of the situation, but because I was fairly certain the wine was starting to kick in. I lifted the little clay cup and took a slow, deliberate sip before continuing.


    ¡°It was worse when I didn¡¯t even know why I was doing it,¡± I explained, letting out a few dry chuckles. ¡°Now that all makes a lot more sense, at least.¡±


    Mel hummed thoughtfully for a few moments, and I heard the sound of the clay bottle tapping the rim of her cup. God, how much could she put away?


    ¡°It sounds, to me, like maybe¡­ you¡¯re still afraid to get caught staring? Even when it¡¯s just us, you worry we¡¯ll read that as an advance, and then reject you for it?¡± Mel ventured, and I saw her tilting her head sideways in my peripheral vision. ¡°Which, just so it¡¯s out in the open, we won¡¯t. We like you, Sam, and there¡¯s a reason we invited you into our orchard.¡±


    I furrowed my brow at that, turning the idea over and over in my head. That was¡­ huh¡­ was it really that simple?


    I blinked my eyes several times, lifting my head up and staring straight ahead for almost the first time since entering the bathhouse. Gripping the clay cup tightly in my hand, I raised it in one (mostly) smooth motion, and drained its contents in a single go.


    Then I turned, meeting Mel¡¯s purple eyes and her wide, smug grin, and then, very deliberately, looked down. One quick glance, about three seconds, and then I was staring at Mel¡¯s face again. Just like that, like ripping off a band-aid, all the built up tension, expectation, dread, all of it just went up like so much steam rising off the bath.


    When I finally spoke again, it was to voice the first coherent thought that had entered my head.


    ¡°You have a lot more scars than I expected you to.¡±


    Mel threw her head back and burst out laughing, heedless of her own advice not to be overheard by the bathers outside. Elle, likewise, seemed unable to stop giggling as I turned to her for help, but their combined glee too was infectious, and pretty soon we were all laughing together. A momentary look of panic crossed Mel¡¯s face, and she suddenly rose from the bath, hurrying over and disappearing into the little entrance corridor. I watched as she tugged on the first of the thick curtains until it covered the door, then returned to the bathing room and did the same with the second curtain. Turning back to me with a relieved sigh, she pointed at the curtains and chuckled.


    ¡°Helps muffle the sound. Figured we wouldn¡¯t need it, but, hey, can¡¯t be too careful, huh?¡±


    That just set me off laughing all over again.


    After that, I was finally able to relax, fully relax, and enjoy the rest of our time at the bathhouse.


    ¡ö


    ¡°Urrhg¡­¡± I moaned into the nape of Mel¡¯s neck, my face buried in her still drying hair.


    ¡°I¡¯m going as slow as I can,¡± Mel said, half soothingly and half teasingly.


    ¡°I told you,¡± Elle said, for the¡­ umpteenth time.


    ¡°S¡¯not¡­ m¡¯fault¡­¡± I groaned, letting my head hang down until it was resting against the top of Mel¡¯s chest. I was, currently, being carried in what Elle oh-so-insistently referred to as a ¡°princess style¡± across Mel¡¯s arms. Her¡­ surprisingly strong arms¡­


    ¡°I keep tellin¡¯ you¡­ I used t¡¯be a lot bigger!¡± I explained, thrusting a fist into the air as hard as one of my limp, noodly arms could manage, holding it there for half a second before all the strength went out of it and it fell, dangling limply at my side. ¡°Used t¡¯be¡­ six feet tall!¡±


    ¡°And we keep telling you, we don¡¯t know what that means,¡± Mel said, chuckling indulgently and hoisting me higher in her arms. I pouted up at her, deliberately flicking one of my ears across her face.


    ¡°That ssssounds like a you problem¡­¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± Elle said, for the umpteenth and one time. ¡°I told you two cups was plenty.¡±


    ¡°S¡¯not fair¡­¡± I lamented, again shaking a fist at the sky. ¡°Your lousy gods¡­ made me too short!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that,¡± Mel said, smirking down at me, almost curled inward on myself in her arms, with room to spare. ¡°You seem pretty comfortable like this. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve stopped purring since we left the bathhouse.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have an answer to that. No, wait, yes I did. With herculean effort, I raised my limp tail, and bopped Mel across the nose with the tip.


    At some point, we arrived back at Felda¡¯s tavern. I must have nodded off at some point, because I only became aware of this fact when I heard Felda¡¯s concerned voice somewhere over my head. I thought about opening my eyes, but¡­ naaah¡­


    ¡°...fine, she just had a little too much of the pear wine,¡± Mel¡­ or maybe Elle, said.


    ¡°What? You rented a private room at the baths?¡± Felda asked, sounding aghast.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Mel, definitely Mel, said with a chuckle. ¡°She rented a private room at the baths. She, uh, well she¡¯s kind of not used to bathing in public, and thought that would be a good compromise.¡±


    ¡°Oh, goodness.¡± Felda sighed, and I felt a rush of vertigo. I reached out instinctively for something to cling to, and found purchase on something dense and rock-solid. I heard a gasp, and a sharp intake of air through clenched teeth.


    ¡°A-are you alright?¡± Elle asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, dear,¡± Felda answered calmly, and I felt rough but gentle fingers pry at my own fingers until they lost their tension, and I slumped against whatever I¡¯d been clinging to. ¡°My fault. Sometimes I honestly forgot she even has claws.¡±


    There was more conversation after that, but I already found myself drifting back out of it now that I was once again being comfortably held against another warm body. Rather than listen to what was being said, I opted to listen to the steady rhythm of a deep, powerful heartbeat, so strong that I could feel it as much as hear it.


    The rest of that evening existed as only vague recollections of sensations and sounds, of Felda helping me into bed, brushing out my freshly washed hair so it wouldn¡¯t get tangled all over again, and then laying me down and letting me burrow into her side for the rest of the night, and as much of the morning as she could spare.


    ¡ö


    There was no fishing the morning after that. Half because when I finally awoke, my head had a slight ache, and my body still felt as weak as¡­ er, well, as a kitten. And half because it was well after sunrise when I cracked my eyes open. I experienced a truly staggering amount of deja vu as I languished in Felda¡¯s bed feeling dazed and dehydrated.


    When I finally recovered enough to go out and about, I immediately found Felda and apologized profusely, both for my general state the night before, and also for sinking my claws into her shoulder when I thought I was about to fall. She forgave me for both, obviously, but my work was nowhere near done. Bart was also there, enjoying a late breakfast, and I apologized for missing another valuable morning of training time. He, of course, didn¡¯t let me beat myself up over it, instead framing it as me celebrating becoming a bronze-ranked professional hunter. More importantly, he said that he would be ready to start teaching me magic in five days, and that helped lift my spirits immensely.


    After that, I tracked down Elle and Mel, finding them chatting with Dani, and again apologized to both of them for just¡­ everything. They laughed, and I did as well, as they recounted to Dani the night¡¯s events, mainly focusing on my behaviour after we left the bathhouse, and how, in their own words, ¡°adorable¡± it was.


    Never again, I swore.


    Thankfully, after a day of rest, I was more or less fully recovered, and was able to make up the lost time the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. And so on, for four straight days, during which Bart steadily introduced me to more knots, rigs, and baits, and the list of fish species I¡¯d caught (and then consumed) grew longer and longer. Inbetween fishing, I spent more time at Elle and Mel¡¯s, the three of us getting to know each other better bit by bit. I learned that in addition to her gardening, Elle liked to paint, and that Mel was a pretty decent cook in her own right, helping her make a hearty seafood chowder one evening.


    As the days went on, and I didn¡¯t show up at the Hunter¡¯s Guild with another fish half the size of my whole body, the buzz about me around town quieted back down to its usual not inconsiderable level, and I went back to just being ¡°that strange fishing catgirl who showed up a week ago.¡±


    But it was on the fifth day, Serday the twentieth, first quarter of summer, that I would become something more than that. That was the day I was finally going to become a mage!


    Or, at least, that was the hope. The night before, in the tavern, Bart told me he¡¯d managed to gather what he needed to try giving me an introductory crash course in magic the next day, and told me I could sleep in a bit. I tried, but I was practically buzzing with excitement when I laid down, and slept for only what felt like twenty minutes before I was scrambling out the window to go sprinting at top speed up and down the main street.


    None of the guards had managed to keep up with me once I dropped to all fours. I returned home, thoroughly worn out, and managed to sleep until sunrise.


    ¡°He said he¡¯d be here early,¡± I said, glancing at the doors to the tavern, which Bart continued to stubbornly not walk through.


    ¡°It¡¯s still early,¡± Mel grumbled from the stool beside me. She and Elle had turned up bright and early, saying they didn¡¯t want to miss my first magic lesson.


    ¡°The sun has only been up for five minutes,¡± Elle added, wiping her mouth. Felda had, of course, prepared a fantastic breakfast of eggs and thick slabs of buttered toast for us all. I¡¯d wolfed mine down, expecting Bart to show up any minute, and was now working my way through seconds.


    ¡°But it¡¯s been five daaaays,¡± I whined, letting my head come to rest on the counter beside my plate.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be here, Sam, don¡¯t worry,¡± Felda said, leaning over me and smiling that tusky smile of hers that I couldn¡¯t help but return, even as frustrated as I was feeling.


    Finally, the door creaked open, and I shot to my feet in an instant, crossing the room so fast I was standing at attention in front of Bart before he¡¯d turned back around from closing the door. He started slightly and jerked backwards, nearly dropping the sack he had tucked up under one arm, then schooled his expression and cleared his throat.


    ¡°I suppose I don¡¯t need to bother asking if you¡¯re ready?¡± Bart asked, which was the same thing as asking the question, in my opinion.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready!¡± I said excitedly, standing up on the balls of my feet to try and get a slightly better look at whatever Bart was carrying.


    ¡°Good, well¡­ let¡¯s get started then,¡± Bart said, uncharacteristically hesitant. He glanced towards the bar, where Felda, Elle, and Mel were all watching with interest. His mouth twitched, and he sniffed once, then turned and walked towards one of the round tables, which had had its chairs taken down in preparation for this exact moment.


    ¡°Now then, you told me you have very little experience with magic, at all?¡± Bart asked as he set down the sac and loosened the drawstring top.


    ¡°Uh, yeah, basically nothing,¡± I said, climbing into a chair to watch. ¡°I mean, I¡­ know about mana, kind of, but even that¡¯s not very much, so, you¡¯re probably best just starting from the very top.¡±


    ¡°From the top. If I can even remember that far back.¡± Bart nodded, chuckling once as he began to pull things from the sack; a very thin, worn-looking book with a beat-up cover, a small stack of papers bound together by string, several writing implements, and, finally, a thin wooden stick that couldn¡¯t be anything but a wand.


    ¡°Well, the best place to start is the very foundations of magic as a craft,¡± Bart said, reaching for the well worn book. ¡°Magic, ah, that is to say, the act of casting spells is, in its simplest form, done by learning to inscribe in the mind''s eye the sigils that are responsible for creating magical phenomena in nature.¡±


    As he spoke, Bart opened the book and flipped forward to one of the first few pages, turning it and showing me its contents.


    ¡°Sigils are, essentially, a¡­ pictographic alphabet, pieces of the language that shapes our very world, and¡­¡± Bart pulled the book back, and I realized he¡¯d been reciting from the opening passage of this very book. ¡°Allows a mage to¡­ inscribe his own dest¡ªhow old is this book?¡±


    Sighing in exasperation, Bart pinched the bridge of his nose, then pulled out a chair and dropped into it beside me, holding the book open for me to see again.


    ¡°Alright, the gist of it is, these symbols here are sigils. They¡¯re what makes magic happen.¡± I followed his finger as he tapped the page, and squinted. Aside from the plain text, which Bart had been reading from, I saw several rows of¡­ well, at a certain angle they just looked like more plain text, only in thicker, bolder handwriting. But, as I stared, and tilted my head, the words on the page melted into a series of simplistic black strokes, unfamiliar symbols that, when I tilted my head the other way, turned back into plain words.


    ¡°This one, for instance, is the sigil for water,¡± Bart said, pointing to the word ¡°water¡± in thick black ink, which when looked at from the other angle turned back into some kind of swirly glyph. ¡°This one, here, is wind, and you can see some of the same curved shapes from the water sigil,¡± Bart continued, and the same process repeated. I realized, with a sensation like a bucket of ice water dumped down my back, that only I was seeing both versions of the text. So my translation blessing did work on spells!


    ¡°I¡­ see¡­¡± I said distantly, glad that I was already sitting down. I had asked Elle and Mel if they could give me any early peeks at what I might be learning from Bart, but they¡¯d said it was best if I just went in blind, but now that was coming back to bite me, because I had no idea what this meant for me. If I could just read the language that made up all magic spells, wasn''t that like¡­ a huge advantage?


    ¡°I know it can seem daunting, the prospect of learning a whole new language from scratch,¡± Bart said, misreading my suddenly pale expression. ¡°But I¡¯m only showing you some of the basic, foundational sigils. There¡¯s been hundreds of years of advancements and refinements since the discovery of the basic elemental sigils.¡±


    Bart turned the page, and I saw that the example sigils had grown more complex. Where before it had been a single symbol, which morphed into a single simple word when viewed through my translation, these were strings of sigils pressed end to end that formed¡­ well, not sentences exactly.


    Begin,ElemWtr,SphereDiaTwo,VelEqlsManaPerTick,End


    What. The fuck.


    It made so little sense that I went back to just looking at the unfamiliar string of plain sigils instead. That way, I could at least follow Bart''s explanation better.


    ¡°You can still make out the original sigil for water here, but it''s been simplified, see?¡± Bart asked, tapping at one cluster of strokes in particular. I could see the resemblance to the sigil from the previous page, but some of the extra swirly bits on the edges had been pared down.


    ¡°Huh, that makes sense,¡± I said, nodding. I had to be very careful not to say too much here, lest I give away that I was seeing much more than I should''ve. Clearing my throat, I asked, ¡°So, this is some kind of¡­ water spell?¡±


    ¡°It is, yes,¡± Bart confirmed, moving his finger to tap at the symbol that sat closest to the one for water, of two curved shapes with a pair of dots over them. ¡°This means it forms an orb, a medium-sized one to be specific. The rest of this, well, I can break it down once you know more, but it determines the force behind the orb when you release it.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± I said, even though I was pretty sure I already had some kind of inkling of how it worked. ¡°So, is that what this spell is named? ¡®Water Orb?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Named?¡± Bart said, reaching up and stroking his chin. ¡°I suppose you could call it that, but spells don''t have concrete names.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, furrowing my brow. ¡°But, I''ve seen you and Elle, and that girl at the guild cast spells, you always call out the name when you cast them.¡±


    From the bar, I heard Mel chuckle slightly before Elle shushed her.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Bart said, shaking his head. ¡°That¡¯s getting into the mechanics of actual casting, and spell memorization. Like I said, this"¡ªBart tapped the water orb spell on the page again¡ª¡°is the beginning and end of what a spell is. The act of casting it simply involves picturing the correct string of sigils in your mind, what the book calls ¡®inscribing¡¯ them, and then pushing the required amount of mana into it.¡±


    To demonstrate, Bart took another glance at the page, then held up his right hand, palm up. Without a word from him, water began to appear from midair, collecting into a fist-sized ball, before he pointed his arm straight out and it went sailing lazily away from him to splash against the floorboards a few feet away.


    ¡°See?¡± Bart said, with a small, pleased smile. Then, as if realizing what he''d done, he glanced at the puddle of water and then looked guiltily towards the bar.


    ¡°Just try not to break anything,¡± Felda said, chuckling and shaking her head.


    ¡°My apologies,¡± Bart called, then turned back to me. ¡°Anyway, as you can see, that''s all there is to it.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you and Mel say those things when you cast?¡± I asked, and Bart''s smile grew.


    ¡°Because that is one of many techniques taught to mages to help them learn and memorize longer, more complex spells.¡± Bart motioned towards the puddle. ¡°That water orb spell is incredibly simple, the kind of thing you''d teach young children to give them a taste for magic, and so it is trivial for a fully trained mage to cast. That¡¯s why I can cast it without having to utter a word, or make a series of hand motions. Now, this spell, on the other hand...¡± Bart pulled his hand back, holding it up before him, and took a deep breath, and the next time he spoke his voice thrummed slightly.


    ¡°Frost Touch,¡± Bart said, and a skin of ice crystals formed around his hand like a glove, thin wisps of mist rising off of it. He turned, and nodded toward his upraised hand. ¡°The string of sigils I have to inscribe every time I want to cast this spell would make that water orb spell look like a simplistic doodle.¡± Saying this, Bart focused on his hand again, ending the spell with some mental trigger, then started shaking it out, sending tiny flakes of ice onto the floor and table. He then immediately winced and glanced back at Felda again.


    Felda just stood at the bar with her arms crossed, smiling back at Bart.


    Clearing his throat, Bart turned another page in the book. ¡°Like I said, this is what a spell of that complexity looks like.¡±


    I stared blankly at the page before me. Without the translation, it was a string of extremely tightly compacted symbols, with almost no room between them for blank paper to show through. With the translation, it was a mess.


    beginelmwrtsphrdiathrmultsixvelveleqmanaprtkend


    I¡­ could barely make heads or tails of what I was looking at, and definitely couldn¡¯t understand it, and felt a little deflated that it didn¡¯t seem like I was going to be able to just automatically become some kind of mega mage.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the same spell, of course,¡± Bart said. ¡°This is a continuation of the last two pages, a spell that creates a barrage of water orbs. I don¡¯t think I need to demonstrate that for you, but the point is, you can imagine how difficult it might be to be able to inscribe something that complex, and be able to do it over and over again.¡±


    I nodded, because at least that part made sense. Trying to keep a clear, strong mental image of that solid block of super condensed sigils seemed impossible, actually.


    ¡°That¡¯s where the different casting techniques come in,¡± Bart continued, holding up the hand that had just been covered in frost a short time ago. ¡°By performing a specific set of steps, using unique arm and hand motions, breathing a certain way, or speaking a particular word aloud, or in some cases a combination of all three at once, and doing it over and over again each and every time you cast a spell, you condition your mind to associate one with the other, then reinforce that association until it becomes second nature, until it becomes impossible to do one without the other.¡±


    I furrowed my brow slightly, trying to follow what he was saying, and pointed towards his hand. ¡°So¡­ you can¡¯t say the words ¡®frost¡¯ and ¡®touch¡¯ next to each other or you¡¯ll automatically cast the spell?¡±


    ¡°Not quite,¡± Bart said, then suddenly placed his hand on my shoulder. ¡°Frost touch.¡±


    I almost jerked backwards, but the fact that his voice lacked the same odd effect that accompanied an actual cast of the spell tipped me off, and Bart gave me an approving nod, lifting his hand again.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you picked up on that so quickly, that¡¯s actually a mistake many novice mages make, and it takes just as much work to unlearn as it did to learn,¡± Bart said, giving me an approving smile. ¡°If you¡¯re using that method, the best way to avoid your spoken spells spilling over into your regular speech is to tie a specific trigger to the opening sigil, one of two sigils that every spell must open and close with.¡±


    Blinking, I looked back down at the book, and carefully flipped the page back and forth. I had missed it with the nonsense string of letters, but even then, I could make out the words ¡°begin¡± and ¡°end¡± at the very start and very end of both spells.


    ¡°Oooooh¡­¡± I said, my eyes widening with comprehension. ¡°That makes sense¡­ So you, what, have one special move just for that sigil?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Bart said, and took a deep breath. Now that I was looking closely, I saw that he also rolled one of his shoulders ever so slightly, and this time when he spoke, his voice was again tinged with power. ¡°Frost Touch.¡±


    Again, the ice materialized, until Bart made another series of seemingly random movements of his shoulders and arm, and the effect ended.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s soooo awesome,¡± I said, not even minding the flakes of melting ice that landed on me this time. Another thought occurred to me, and I tilted my head, grinning slightly. ¡°Wait, if the name has no actual connection to the spell that comes out, you could tie it to anything couldn¡¯t you? Like, if you had a fireball spell, but you named it, uh¡­ Cloud Burst or something, and totally confuse your enemies, right?¡±


    Bart tossed his head back and let out a bark of laughter, and I began to worry if that had been a stupid question, but my fears were dispelled by the way Bart smiled as he looked at me again.


    ¡°Another good question, Sam. You¡¯re already thinking like a mage,¡± Bart said, still chuckling. ¡°The answer is, yes, and in fact you¡¯re far from the first person to come up with that. That trick has been around almost since the dawn of the era, and in fact there¡¯s a rather famous story about the first mage who employed it to win a duel. Though, in truth, it¡¯s only useful when fighting other mages; if you¡¯re part of a team that needs to coordinate around your spells, using them that way can only confuse your other party members and expose them to harm, and that¡¯s not something you want to get in the habit of doing.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, chuckling a little as well. That figured, it was probably the first thing that came to my mind for a reason. As much as I wanted to ask Bart to tell me some of that story, I wanted to stay focused on the lesson more.


    ¡°So, uh¡­ I guess when you break it down like that, that¡¯s everything I need to know to start trying to do magic, then?¡± I asked, looking hopefully up at Bart.


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, well, I suppose you could try something simple,¡± Bart said thoughtfully, turning and reaching for the wrapped stack of index card-sized papers. He untied the string and pulled a slip of paper from the top, placing it before him. ¡°The first sigil you¡¯ll want to study is the opening sigil, the one I mentioned.¡±


    I leaned over and watched as he used a thick black pencil to scratch out a single symbol on the paper, a sort¡¯ve curvy triangular shape, but with no third line forming the bottom. He then turned the page, so the open end was faced to the right, and my translation immediately latched onto it and the word ¡°Begin¡± resolved on the paper.


    ¡°So I just¡­ think real hard about that symbol? Picture it inside my mind?¡± I asked, and Bart nodded, so I tilted my head and squinted my eyes until I was looking at just the plain sigil again. Then I just started to imagine exactly how I¡¯d have to move my pencil to draw it out myself.


    ¡°Yes, but don¡¯t be disappointed if you don¡¯t¡±¡ª


    Begin


    ¡ª¡°manage it right¡­ Sam?¡±


    I furrowed my brows, my eyes going slightly unfocused. I had just finished my imaginary drawing of the little sideways triangle, and immediately both the symbol and the translated word had forced themselves into the forefront of my mind, where they glowed brightly and refused to diminish in clarity or urgency. It was like there was a huge neon sign floating at the forefront of my brain, blinking incessantly.


    ¡°Uh, I¡­ did it, but now it won¡¯t go away,¡± I said, looking up to Bart for assistance.


    ¡°What?¡± Bart asked, looking taken aback and sitting up straighter in his seat. ¡°Just now? You mean¡­ you mean the symbol is inscribed in your mind, right now?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah?¡±


    ¡°Try to lose focus on it, think about something else,¡± Bart said, and I did my best. I glanced around the tavern, looking for anything else I could focus on. The puddle where Bart had tossed the water orb. Elle and Mel and Felda back at the tavern, who waved at me. I smiled, and waved back, then turned back to Bart.


    ¡°Is it still there? Is it still fixed in your mind?¡± he asked.


    Begin


    I only had to think about thinking about it, and it was there, just as crisp and crystal clear as before.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s still there,¡± I said, furrowing my brow. ¡°It''s actually getting kind of annoying, can I get rid of this?¡±


    Bart¡¯s mouth hung open for a second, then he reached for another slip of paper, hastily scratching out a symbol that, as I watched him draw it, turned out to be a mirror image of the first, flipped vertically, with all the distinct dots and flourishes on the opposite end.


    ¡°My apologies, I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d get it right away. Here, inscribe this, and it should close the spell with no effect,¡± Bart said, a note of slight concern in his voice that had me growing slightly worried again. But I could deal with that when there wasn¡¯t a gigantic glowing Begin burning itself into my brain.


    I considered the second sigil and repeated the process of imagining it out in my mind¡¯s eye, placing it right next to the first one and¡ª


    BeginEnd


    ¡ªwaited for¡­ oh. There it went. As soon as the symbols resolved into full clarity, they both winked out. I sighed, and reached up to rub my forehead.


    ¡°That sucked,¡± I complained, and Bart closed his eyes and brought a fist to his forehead. By now, the slight commotion had drawn Elle and Mel out of the stools and Felda out from behind the bar, and the three of them were standing off to the side of the table.


    ¡°Did I hear that right?¡± Felda asked, looking from Bart to me with a curious smile. ¡°Sam managed to open a spell already?¡±


    ¡°And close it,¡± Bart said with a sigh, opening his eyes again and fixing them on me. ¡°Either Sam is¡­ already a mage and is playing a very strange trick on me, or she has a natural talent for magic.¡±


    ¡°R-really?¡± I said, gasping and sitting bolt upright in my chair. It really hadn¡¯t been that hard to just picture two little triangles. In fact, it felt like most of what had happened was automatic, with the way the first sigil refused to exit my mind until it was ¡°closed¡± again. Was that not how it worked for everyone?


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ amazing!¡± Elle said after a moment of hesitation. She and Mel had been exchanging glances since they¡¯d walked over, and I didn¡¯t have to ask to know what they were worried about.


    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m sure I just¡­ got lucky?¡± I offered, and Bart sat forward again, looking at the two ¡°Begin¡± and ¡°End¡± sigils he¡¯d drawn.


    ¡°Perhaps. I suppose the next thing we ought to try is to have you cast an actual spell,¡± Bart said, taking another slip of paper from the stack. ¡°I¡¯ll give you something simple, one of the simplest spells there is in fact.¡±


    Bart spent almost a minute scratching out a small string of sigils on the fresh slip of paper, and then slid the first two he¡¯d drawn apart, placing it between them so that they formed a single line. I tilted my head to read it.


    Begin,ElemLight,SphereDiaOne,DurTckThree,End


    ¡°This spell will create a tiny ball of light that will last for a few seconds and then go out,¡± Bart explained, and I bit my lip, conflicted. I could see the sigils, plain as day on the paper, and if the experiment a second ago was any indication, I would only have to start drawing them inside my head and my mind would latch on and produce the spell. Was that how easy it was for everyone, or was this another blessing? And if I did cast the spell, would that be suspicion on top of more suspicion? I wanted to learn magic, and I was finally doing it, but because I still hadn¡¯t worked up the courage to rope Felda and Bart into my secret the way I had Elle and Mel, I was now contemplating backing down.


    Aaagh, fuck it! It¡¯s magic!


    I took a deep breath and fixed my eyes on Bart¡¯s hand-scrawled sigils. As I studied the details of each one, they appeared in the forefront of my mind, stroke by stroke, their meanings resolving into clarity as I completed each one in turn. Finally, I had a string of half-words etched into my brain, waiting for the final piece. Holding my hands up, I sighed, and pictured the ¡°End¡± sigil at the very end of the row.


    The sigils flashed inside my mind, and I felt something start to move up my spine, and¡ª


    ¡°Ah! Ow, fuck!¡±


    I winced, grabbing the side of my head as an intense ache flared up inside it, like I¡¯d pinched a nerve, but in my brain. I didn¡¯t know what had just happened, but there was definitely no flash of light, and the sigils were gone from my mind.


    ¡°What happened? Sam?¡± Felda¡¯s voice, not Bart¡¯s, was the first I heard, and I blinked my eyes blearily before looking up, finding her hovering over my shoulder.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know?¡± I said, rubbing the side of my head, thankful that the mysterious ache was already starting to fade. ¡°I did the spell right, but when I tried to close it, I felt something start to move and then just this really sharp pain in my head.¡±


    Felda made a noise of concern, and I felt her hand on my back, rubbing it gently. Elle and Mel, meanwhile, were looking even more startled.


    ¡°A pain?¡± Bart asked, his brow knitting together. ¡°But was the spell completed properly?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, lowering my hand and leaning forward slightly, resting my elbows on my knees. ¡°I guess it was just a fluke after all? I must have done something wrong.¡±


    ¡°That¡­ shouldn¡¯t be possible,¡± Bart mumbled, half to himself, bringing a hand to his chin and stroking it slowly. He eyed me closely, and I felt some of the fur on my tail start to stand on end, before he looked away and started muttering again. ¡°If you managed to get your mana moving to complete the spell, then it should have gone off¡­ There¡¯s no way you could be out of mana, you¡¯d be dead on your feet¡­ Could it be some kind of catkin thing? Not that I¡¯ve heard of, but maybe¡­¡±


    Bart trailed off, glancing up at Elle and Mel. Or, at Elle specifically, who was chewing nervously on one of her knuckles. I got the feeling there was something they both knew, but weren¡¯t saying. Sighing, Bart reached for a fresh slip of paper. ¡°There are two possible answers I can think of. I¡¯ve heard of mages who let themselves get rusty developing a kind of ¡®mana clog.¡¯ It¡¯s usually easily cleared by casting a few small, simple spells to get things flowing again, but you say you¡¯ve never done magic, so¡­¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the other possibility?¡± I asked, and Bart shook his head.


    ¡°Let¡¯s not worry about that until we¡¯ve tried this,¡± he said, picking up the pencil and leaning over the table again. ¡°I have a little trick that should get things moving properly. Something my grandfather taught me.¡±


    As he spoke, Bart traced out a pair of sigils on the paper, then turned the paper and drew the same pair again, rotated and offset from the first. He repeated this twice more, until he had written out a spell in the shape of a little ring. As I titled my head to look at it, the shapes resolved into words again.


    Open,ManaInManaOut,ManaInManaOut,ManaInManaOut,ManaInManaOut


    ¡°Uh¡­ I thought you said there had to be a closing sigil?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Not for this,¡± Bart said, tapping the paper. ¡°Technically, we¡¯re getting into the realm of scrolls, and sustained spells, but all that I can explain¡­ later. For now, I¡¯m going to push my mana into the spell on the page, and it¡¯s going to activate. All it does is cycle the mana, and because this is just paper, it¡¯ll burn itself out pretty quick, but with plenty of time for you to make contact, and the motion of the mana should draw yours out, clearing whatever blockage you experienced, or¡­ Well, it¡¯ll solve the problem.¡±


    ¡°Wooah,¡± I said softly, my tail swishing excitedly behind me at the mention of scrolls. I was still feeling nervous that something was about to go wrong, but I figured it couldn¡¯t hurt to give this a try, just in case Bart¡¯s hunch turned out to be right and my mana was just clogged up for some reason.


    ¡°Now, when I say so, just place your hand on the paper,¡± Bart said, and I nodded, scooting my chair closer to the table and holding my hand up at the ready.


    ¡°Are you sure about this, Bart?¡± Felda asked from behind me.


    Bart glanced over my shoulder at Felda, then at me, then nodded. ¡°It will be fine.¡±


    Looking down at the paper, Bart reached out and pressed the tip of one finger to Begin sigil, and I saw at once as the black pencil marks that made up the ring started to glow blue, as if lit from beneath, the light starting to move around the ring like a dog chasing its own tail.


    ¡°Now,¡± Bart said, and I slapped my hand down onto the page. It felt warm against my palm, and, again, I felt a strange sensation travel up my arm. Movement, but disconnected from anything physical, like what I imagined it would be like if I could feel my shadow moving. I tried to follow the odd tingle as traced its way up my arm, but then it was suddenly overtaken by a new sensation, like the first but faster, traveling back down my arm and into my hand, spreading out to the tips of my fingers until¡ª


    Tiny purple sparks began to dance across the tops of my knuckles, and I had a split second to lift my hand from the table and fling it out in front of and away from me, all the while a sound like the angry buzzing of a hive of wasps filled the air, until it reached a crescendo and¡ª


    CRACK!


    A fork of purple lightning arced out of my open palm and shot forward until it hit the first solid object in its path; one of the thick wooden support beams that ran up into the ceiling. It struck the wood, which blackened immediately, then dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a slightly painful afterimage in my vision.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± I gasped, grabbing my outstretched hand and turning it over, inspecting it for damage but finding none. Letting out a nervous but relieved chuckle, I asked, ¡°Was that supposed to happen?¡±


    I turned to Bart for my answer, but found that he had jumped out of his chair, and was now standing several feet back, and he was¡­ staring at me with a look of wide eyed, absolute terror that made my blood run cold. He was breathing heavily, and had one hand pressed against his chest, the other groping around at empty air above his hip.


    ¡°B-Bart?¡± I asked, now growing fearful myself. If what had just happened had Bart looking this scared, then exactly how terrified should I be? I stood up from my chair to take a step towards him, and Bart turned and bolted for the doors, slamming into them so hard it was a wonder that they stayed attached to the frame. I listened to the sounds of his heavy breathing and footfalls on the docks as they grew more and more distant, and I had absolutely no idea what was going on.


    I turned to see if maybe Felda had any answers, but she, too, was looking at me in a way I¡¯d never seen before. Not angry, not fearful, but just¡­ a lack of warmth, a hardness of the features that made us seem like strangers, which somehow felt even worse than Bart¡¯s reaction. Before I could speak, Felda turned on her heels and ran after Bart, calling his name in vain.


    Stunned, I turned to Elle and Mel, and at least they hadn¡¯t run off. But they definitely looked confused, and scared, just staring blankly at the charred segment of the support beam.


    ¡°What¡­ just happened?¡± I asked, and that seemed to break them out of their stupor.


    ¡°Sam¡­¡± Mel said, still sounding dazed. ¡°Do you know what you just did?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no? That¡¯s why I asked?¡± I stared at the pair helplessly and shook my head.


    ¡°That was innate magic!¡± Mel said, and I furrowed my brow. That sounded familiar, I knew we¡¯d talked about it before, but I couldn¡¯t place it¡­ oh!


    ¡°Like, the bloodline stuff you told me about?¡± I asked, and Mel nodded. I stared down at my hand, recalling the magic history lesson I¡¯d gotten the first time we visited the temple. ¡°You said people used to be born with magic like that, before the first mages discovered spells, so¡­ why do I have it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not why you have it, it¡¯s what you have, Sam,¡± Mel said, and I lifted my head up to look at her curiously. She had one arm across her chest, and was massaging her forehead and temple with her other hand. ¡°It¡¯s not unheard of for people to still be born with innate magic. It didn¡¯t actually stop happening when sigil magic was discovered, but it¡¯s much less remarkable now that everyone has access to magic. It¡¯s actually almost more of a detriment than anything.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡± I asked, panic rising in my throat.


    Mel sighed, her shoulders sagging, and she walked over to the burned support beam, holding her hand up to its charred surface.


    ¡°Because, Sam, people with innate magic can¡¯t use sigil magic,¡± she said, mechanically, and I felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. ¡°That¡¯s probably what Bart was trying to check for, but he didn¡¯t want to say it until he confirmed it, to avoid upsetting you.¡±


    What?


    Did that mean¡­ I couldn¡¯t learn magic? At all?! But¡­


    Wait, no! I couldn¡¯t get distracted by my own disappointment right now!


    ¡°Then¡­ What happened just now, with Bart?¡±


    Mel didn¡¯t answer for a moment, just slowly dragging her fingers along the blackened wood where the lightning that shot out of my hand had struck.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Mel finally said, lifting her hand and turning her fingers over, rubbing at the soot left behind on them. ¡°But it¡¯s not hard to guess. Now, just like in the past, people born with innate magic usually just end up with one of the basic elements. Fire, wind, water, earth, the simple stuff. Occasionally, if they¡¯re very lucky, you''ll hear about someone somewhere who was born with something advanced, like ice, or lava, or glass.¡±


    Mel turned to look at me, and her expression was worn and tired.


    ¡°But there¡¯s only one place in the world where people who can control lightning are born, and only one bloodline they¡¯re born into¡­¡±


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    Thousands of miles across the sea, and nine days prior, on the morning after the night of the four comets, Amanda ¡°Mandy¡± MacIntyre awoke with a start, just in time to watch someone hurl a full bottle of champagne directly at her.

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.14.1 (Mandy/Chad)

    Making A Splash


    Chapter 14


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    Strom¡¯s Landing, Fulgar - Solday the 11th, First-Quarter of Summer, The day after The Night of Four Stars


    Amanda MacIntyre, known to everyone but her grandmother as ¡°Mandy,¡± drifted aimlessly in the space between waking and sleeping like a soap bubble caught on the breeze. Unaware of her surroundings, numb to everything except her own thoughts, and even those moved like molasses.


    God, I haven¡¯t slept this good in months¡­


    She thought she might like to remain in this blissful, detached state forever, but just as soon as that notion occurred to her, clarity forced itself back into her mind, and she begrudgingly started to awaken to herself and her surroundings.


    ¡°...gathered here to dedicate¡­ ¡­in the name of the goddess¡­¡±


    She could hear muffled voices, coming in and out of focus like she was listening through a wall or from under the water. She could also hear, or maybe feel, heavy footsteps, like someone with boots walking on a hardwood floor.


    Guess I¡¯m not the first one awake¡­ Tsh, and I thought I told those dumbasses to take their shoes off inside¡­


    ¡°...this fine vessel, which¡­ ¡­see the goddess''s will be done¡­¡±


    Aw, what the hell is that?


    Mandy tried to focus on the voices she was hearing, and suddenly it was as if someone had grabbed the remote and cranked the volume all the way up, the voices coming to her as if they were right in her ear.


    ¡°...bring peace and hope to all who follow the goddess¡¯s teachings, and strike fear and terror into those wicked hearts who would reject her love!¡±


    Ow, fuck!


    Mandy recoiled and felt the volume drop again, leaving her ears throbbing and her head spinning.


    Oh, great. Some nerds must have gotten to the TV and put on some dumb fantasy drama.


    She hadn¡¯t just been able to make out the one voice, shouting a bunch of eye rolling nonsense about some goddess, but also many other incidental sounds: rolling waves crashing against something made of wood, the excited hushed conversations of a small crowd, the shifting of feet and the light clink of metal on metal.


    Well, I guess that¡¯s just the price you pay for throwing the best parties; uninvited nerds blasting lame shows in your ear while you''re trying to sleep it off.


    Speaking of the party, she tried to recall how exactly it had gone, what the rest of the night had been like past the snatches and fragments she could remember of the early hours, and found that there was nothing else there.


    Huh¡­Well, it must have been a success then. Alright, time to get up and kick all these losers out of my house, then maybe see which of the guys wants to buy me breakfast¡­


    Mandy made to move, to sit up and throw back the covers and climb out of bed, ready to face the day head on and grab it by the balls, like she did every day, only to realize she couldn¡¯t actually move. No, scratch that, she couldn¡¯t even feel her body to move it in the first place.


    What the¡­ Geez, what¡¯d I sleep funny on my neck or something? I swear, if someone else took the master bedroom and I''m lying on a couch right now¡­


    Her angry tirade died before it could really get started, as she noticed that not only was she not able to move, she couldn¡¯t even see anything. She was certain she was wide awake, and yet she couldn¡¯t open her eyes, or even feel them.


    Okay, this is starting to get seriously freaky!


    Pushing down the urge to give in to panic, Mandy tried to focus, tried to will everything she had into opening her eyes, and¡ª


    And just like that, Mandy could see again. Bright, dawn sunlight assaulted her vision, but when she tried to blink it away, she found she couldn¡¯t. Not only that, but her field of view was absurdly wide, like she was looking through an impossibly powerful fish-eye lens. With this view, she could see that she was not, in fact, in the master bedroom at her parent¡¯s spacious lakeside condo, but in fact standing (or was she sitting? Or floating? She couldn¡¯t tell) on some kind of long dock at the edge of some coastal town she¡¯d never seen before, with an expansive view of rolling countryside in the distance, and a range of mountains beyond that. At the same time, she also had a view of the most beautiful ocean vista she¡¯d ever seen in her entire life, with many other old-timey boats with towering masts drifting in and out of the bay, and even glimpses of other islands way off in the distance. Idly, she found herself wondering how long it would take to reach some of them.


    She could also see the crowd she¡¯d heard. Most of them were facing her, and were wearing costumes like they ought to be operating a booth at the renn-faire that sold wizard beer, but there was also a second procession of people, every one standing with their backs to her, all in matching red outfits that Mandy could tell were military uniforms, but not of any style she recognized. They even had swords on their belts and spears in their hands!


    Before she could even finish taking in all the bizarre sights, one of the figures with their back to her¡ªan older man with thinning blond hair, wearing bright red and gold robes¡ªraised his arms and began to cap off the speech that Mandy had been entirely ignoring up until now.


    ¡°And so, I bless this vessel, in the name of the mighty Fulminous Empire, Her Divine Majesty, and The Goddess of Love and War herself! May she sail in service of the goddess, forevermore!¡±


    Then, while the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the man turned and hurled a huge glass bottle directly at Mandy¡¯s¡­ face?


    ¡°What the fuck!¡±


    Mandy let out a shout and threw her hands up, trying to duck out of the way of the bottle. It worked, sort of, in that she did see her arms appear in front of her, and she did duck down, but at the same time she felt like she still couldn¡¯t move, and the bottle still sailed unerringly towards her, and she had to get out of the way, she had to move!


    Some huge dark shape behind Mandy creaked and groaned, and she felt with iron-clad certainty that she had succeeded, she had moved, and at the same time she was still squatting there on the deck, cowering with her arms up in front of her. The sensations and feelings that were being fed into her brain didn¡¯t make sense; it was like she was in two places at once. She felt heavy, and yet like she was floating on air, bobbing in place and tilting ever so slightly this way and that. She could feel cavernous space inside her, and water crashing into her, but also feel the wind playing across her skin and blowing through her hair, and she could feel wood and metal and rope and canvas and¡ª


    The bottle passed right over Mandy¡¯s head, and she turned to follow it with her eyes, watching with mounting horror and confusion as it struck the side of a huge, old-fashioned wooden boat, shattering upon impact and coating the hull with its contents. She tried, and failed, to suppress a shudder as she realized she¡¯d felt the impact as surely as she felt her own feet beneath her, and could even now feel the cold liquid dripping down from where it had made contact. She could even feel the little bubbles in the liquid, fizzing and popping.


    Champagne¡­ No, wait, it¡¯s only champagne if it comes from¡­ some place in France, right? And this definitely isn¡¯t France, not with those accents¡­ So where the hell am I?


    Not only that, she could see herself now, see that she was standing down on the docks looking bewildered, wearing the same pink crop top, tight jeans and the brand-new red shoes she¡¯d picked up for the party last night.


    Mandy stared up at the massive hulking construction of wood and metal, and knew with the certainty of looking in a mirror and seeing your own face reflected back, she knew.


    Mandy knew she was looking at herself.


    ¡°Whaaaaat¡­ the fffffuck?¡±


    Behind her, the crowd had gone silent, and Mandy spun around to see them all staring at her in shock. Except the uniformed men and women lined up in formation on either side of the robed man, the ones with the very real and very sharp looking spears. Now, most of those spears were pointed in her direction, and Mandy took several steps back, throwing her hands up.


    ¡°You there! Where did you come from?!¡± one of the soldiers shouted, and Mandy just gaped at him, her brain still playing catch up with her eyes.


    ¡°Looked like she came down from the ship,¡± another man said, glancing over Mandy¡¯s shoulders at the boat. Even with her back turned to it, she could still feel it, bobbing up and down on the waves, tugging slightly against the ropes that held it to the pier.


    ¡°Goddess¡¯ blood, we haven¡¯t even taken her out of port and she¡¯s already picked up a stowaway?¡± one woman said, earning a few chuckles from some of the other soldiers.


    ¡°Quiet, you lot!¡±


    The soldiers'' laughter came to a stop at once and they all straightened their backs and lifted their shoulders, glancing towards, what else, another man in a uniform similar to theirs; a dark red double-breasted coat on top of wide-legged red pants, tucked into black knee-high boots. Except this man¡¯s uniform was visibly more well decorated than the rest; It had gold buttons, a longer tail on the coat, and it even came with a tall bicorne hat made of red leather, with an ostentatious red and black feather sticking out of it.


    Geez, someone tell these people there are other colors besides red and black.


    The man himself was also older than the other soldiers, though that wasn¡¯t hard when most of them looked like they were barely twenty. This man at least appeared to be in his late twenties, with straight black hair pulled back into a thin ponytail. Like the rest, there was a sword hanging from his belt, and he had one hand resting on it as he approached, his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.


    ¡°You there, what do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± the dark-haired man asked. ¡°Come away from that ship, now, and by my word, you will only be charged with unlawful entry to a private dock. Make us come get you, and you will receive the full punishment for trespassing on a ship of the Empress¡¯ royal navy!¡±


    Mandy, who had been watching all of this play out in stunned silence, wondered if maybe she was just still asleep, having the world¡¯s weirdest dream.


    ¡°What is this dorky fantasy bullcrap¡­¡± Mandy muttered in a daze, and all of the soldiers furrowed their brows and exchanged confused glances, except for the older man, who simply drew his sword with one smooth motion of his arm. The blade was very thin and narrow, but looked no less sharp and ready to cut her to ribbons.


    ¡°This is your last warning, girl,¡± the man said calmly, taking another step towards her, causing Mandy to take another step back, and now she could feel the edge of the docks beneath her heel. There was nowhere left to go but over the edge, into the water, and the space between the pier and the ship itself.


    ¡°Hey, woah, hey!¡± Mandy waved her hands in front of her, her mind revving up into overdrive to try and figure out what was going on, and what she should do. Well, the answer to the latter was obvious, at least. Dream or not, she didn¡¯t want to get fucking stabbed.


    ¡°I give up, okay?¡± Mandy said, holding her hands even higher, up over her head now. ¡°Just, like, put the freakin¡¯ sword down and I¡¯ll go wherever the hell you want, alright?¡±


    The man continued to glare at her, and Mandy thought for a second that he was about to escalate things even further, but thankfully he lowered the tip of his sword, returning it to the sheath at his waist and giving her an expectant look.


    ¡°Okay, okay, I¡¯m coming over,¡± Mandy said, lowering her hands but keeping them held out in front of her. She thought, given the situation, that her heart would be beating out of her chest, and her breath would be coming in panicked bursts, but as she lifted her feet to walk back towards the dark haired man, she found that she wasn¡¯t feeling any of those things. Sure, she was terrified, but her hands weren¡¯t even shaking.


    Because those aren¡¯t my hands.


    The thought came unbidden, and made her want to scream out a denial, but she didn¡¯t want to risk startling any of the crazy people with weapons glaring daggers at her.


    Finally, Mandy came within arms reach of the dark-haired man, and opened her mouth to speak.


    ¡°There, see? Everything¡¯s cool, no need¡ª¡±


    ¡°Got you!¡±


    The man lunged forward faster than she could react, reaching out to grab Mandy by her wrist¡ª


    Only for his hand to pass harmlessly through it.


    The man stared. Mandy stared. The soldiers and the man in the robes stared, and the few people in the front of the crowd who could see what was going on also stared, and the latter-most began muttering an explanation for the benefit of those that couldn¡¯t see.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Mandy looked up at the man, who was now staring at his own gloved hand. He reached out, and again tried to grab onto Mandy¡¯s wrist, and when that failed, he thrust his arm straight forward, causing it to pass straight through the center of Mandy¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Hey, watch it, creep!¡± Mandy shouted, raising her hand and swinging it towards the man¡¯s face. If she¡¯d been thinking rationally, she would have spared herself the effort, since in all likelihood her hand would just pass through the man like his hand passed through her.


    Imagine her surprise, then, when her palm collided with the man¡¯s cheek with a meaty smack and he jerked backwards, bringing his own hand up to cover the spot he¡¯d been struck. Again, everyone stared, and some of the crowd of onlookers even let out a few short lived laughs at the dark haired man¡¯s expense.


    To his credit, the man recovered quickly, and his hand flew to the sword at his hip again, beginning to draw it out while he growled, ¡°You¡¯ll pay for that, you bloody¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop!¡±


    To Mandy¡¯s relief, the man did, standing hunched forward with his sword halfway out of its sheath. The one who had shouted, the blond man in the red robes, had thrown his hands up and interposed himself between Mandy and the other man.


    ¡°Captain Vittorio, calm yourself, please,¡± the robed man urged, motioning with his outstretched hands for the other man, evidently Captain Vittorio, to calm down. He did so, marginally, sheathing his sword and standing up straight, keeping his glare trained on Mandy.


    ¡°What is going on here, Brother Eugene?¡± Captain Vittorio asked, perfunctorily straightening his coat, and the robed man turned sidelong, placing one hand on the captain¡¯s shoulders and holding the other out towards Mandy.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you see?¡± Brother Eugene asked, and Captain Vittorio narrowed his eyes even further, scrutinizing Mandy much more closely than he had before in a way that made her skin want to crawl. ¡°Your men were correct, captain, this girl did come down from the ship, but she did not leap from the decks. I saw her materialize out of the hull of the ship itself, just as I threw the bottle to complete the ceremony.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Mandy asked, furrowing her brow. Had she done that? How had she done that?


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± Captain Vittorio said incredulously, glancing from her to Brother Eugene, who was now beaming broadly, his eyes twinkling with something resembling pride. ¡°What are you saying, Brother?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saying, this young lady, this¡­ being came fully into form as soon as the consecration of the ship was complete!¡± Brother Eugene raised his arms over his head again, motioning up towards the boat, and Mandy felt a shiver run down her spine, taking a step back again. Brother Eugene noticed her unease, and put on a smile that Mandy assumed was meant to be comforting. ¡°I am deeply sorry for your rude awakening, my lady, you must be quite confused. Tell me¡­ have you, perhaps, any memories of your life here in the mortal realm? Were you, perhaps, an accomplished naval commander or particularly skilled navigator?¡±


    All of the spear-wielding soldiers exchanged glances at that, and the muttering from the crow kicked up several notches, and only Captain Vittorio seemed not to get swept up in the excitement.


    ¡°What? Do you seriously think she is an arsenal spirit? For what, the entire ship?¡± the captain asked dubiously, shaking his head and waving at the boat as well. ¡°Brother, that is absurd. This ship is a fine one, yes, but not outstanding in any way, surely not so much as to be worthy of an arsenal spirit, and I doubt this girl¡±¡ªCaptain Vittorio thrust an angry finger in Mandy¡¯s direction¡ª¡°was ever a sailor of such unmatched skill that even the gods acknowledged her.¡±


    ¡°Hey, fuck you too, buddy.¡± Mandy huffed, crossing her arms and scowling right back at him.


    Captain Vittorio scoffed, waving a hand in front of his face as though clearing a bad smell from the air. ¡°And she has the manners of a dockhand.¡±


    The robed man, who Mandy was now starting to suspect was some kind of priest, hummed thoughtfully as he continued to look her over, stroking his chin.


    ¡°No, you are right, she does not have the air of a seafarer, but rather¡­ Mmh, what say you, spirit? Are you a reborn soul, sent here to lend your vast knowledge of naval matters to whomever commands this vessel?¡±


    Now that she wasn¡¯t having a sword shoved in her face, and didn¡¯t seem to be in any serious danger since nobody seemed able to touch her, Mandy had a moment to collect her thoughts, and get her racing mind under control. She didn¡¯t have the first clue what was going on here, but she knew she had to keep a cool head. Follow along, pay attention, figure out what her situation was and then try to improve it.


    ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t,¡± Mandy said, truthfully. She thought about lying, going along with the idea she was some hundred year old ghost captain like Vittorio had said, but as good at improv as she was, that kind of knowledge sounded impossible to fake. And it seemed like that was the answer Brother Eugene expected, anyway.


    ¡°I thought not,¡± Brother Eugene said, nodding. He still wore that weird smile that was really starting to creep Mandy out. Not because it was fake, but because it seemed very, very real.


    ¡°No, I could tell immediately that there was something strange, something otherworldly about you, from your beautiful visage despite your plain garb, to your¡­ wilful, indomitable bearing, you are no ordinary spirit,¡± he continued, clasping his hands together in front of him. ¡°You should rejoice, Captain Vittorio. Your vessel has been given a most unprecedented blessing: It has been infused with a living aspect of the goddess herself.¡±


    Saying this, the robed man dropped to one knee, holding his clasped hands in front of him and bowing his head deeply. The soldiers, many of whom had raised their spears rather than continue to point them ineffectually at Mandy, also let their weapons drop to their sides and assumed a similar kneeling position. Like a ripple spreading out from a stone dropped into a pool, as soon as word spread to the people in the crowd, they either dropped into a similar prostrate position, or went scurrying off, presumably to tell even more people.


    ¡°You¡­ you can not be serious¡­¡± said Captain Vittorio, one of the few people still on his feet, glancing rapidly from Mandy to the kneeling priest. ¡°You really think this¡­ this¡­ disrespectful child is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Silence!¡± Mandy took a step forward as she bellowed, and took no small amount of satisfaction from the way Captain Vittorio stumbled backwards, his eyes wide as saucers. She¡¯d been taking singing lessons since she was six, and projecting her voice was second nature to her. She wouldn¡¯t be surprised if her shout had carried off into the foothills.


    There were a few things Mandy didn¡¯t know. She didn¡¯t know how to take apart a car and put it back together. She didn¡¯t know how to ice skate. She didn¡¯t actually know where France was. But she did know how to spot a golden opportunity when it presented itself, and how to take it.


    ¡°I have tolerated your insolence quite enough for one day,¡± Mandy said in her most imperious voice, throwing the weight of seven years of drama classes and school plays and junior acting awards behind it as she spread her feet and crossed her arms, taking up an imposing stance.


    Yes, if there was one thing Amanda ¡°Mandy¡± MacIntyre knew, it was how to find the top of the pyramid, and how to put herself on it.


    ¡°It is as Brother Eugene has surmised,¡± Mandy said, lifting her chin and grinning smugly. ¡°I am an aspect of your goddess, and you will respect me as such!¡±


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    The Royal City of Lichtford, Capital of Fulgar - Solday the 11th, First-Quarter of Summer, The day after The Night of the Four Stars


    ¡°Fuuuuuck!¡±


    Chad was having a bad morning.


    ¡°It¡¯s over there! After it!¡±


    Consequences of having a bad night, really.


    ¡°Would you assholes fuck off already!¡±


    Then again, the day before that hadn¡¯t been great either, but when compared to the day he was having now, Chad would¡¯ve gladly taken a hundred more of those days over¡­ this!


    Chad barreled through a tight alleyway formed between two shabby stone buildings, shoving over crates and piles of trash as he went. Behind him, and to either side of him, he could hear the boots and shouts and whistles of his pursuers; armed and armored men in red uniforms, the same ones who¡¯d been chasing him since he entered this city.


    He¡¯d woken up in a crater, in the middle of an actual farm, with a seriously pissed-off farmer brandishing a fireplace poker at him and shouting about demons. He¡¯d ran, obviously, and had been working his way across the countryside towards the only source of light for miles around: an honest-to-god castle that seemed to have been built on the slope of one of the highest mountains around for miles, with a city spilling out from its base, continuing well into the shoreline.


    At least it wasn¡¯t completely circular.


    ¡°You gotta be fuckin¡¯ kidding me,¡± Chad had remarked at the time, because the city was obviously, and very indisputably, a generic pseudo-medieval fantasy city.


    He would find himself repeating that same phrase many times in the following hours, including when he actually stopped to examine himself and discovered he was no longer a human being, but instead a black-horned, blue-haired, purple-skinned, pointy-eared¡­ demon, he supposed. He even had hooves, and a long, smooth, and prehensile tail.


    ¡°At least it doesn¡¯t end in a point¡­¡± Chad had grumbled.


    Perhaps most alarming of all was the thick metal shackle clamped around his right wrist, which had a short length of broken chain dangling from it, and no apparent seam showing where it could be opened, or even how it had been placed on him in the first place. He¡¯d spent a good half-hour trying to bash the thing off with rocks before giving that up. At the very least, he could be thankful it didn¡¯t feel uncomfortable. It was actually surprisingly easy to forget it was even there at all.


    With few other appealing options, Chad had opted to make for the city. He definitely wasn¡¯t going to go wandering off into the woods. He did not want to spend the next few weeks alone and fighting off wolves. Or slimes, or whatever low level mobs this world had.


    Chad was hoping there¡¯d be some generic city guards outside of a generic city gate for him to question, and he was already anticipating they¡¯d be rude and, possibly, predisposed against him for being a ¡°demon.¡± Along the way, he passed by more farmsteads, including one whose occupants had left one single piece of perfectly stealable clothing out on the line, much to Chad¡¯s mixed relief and frustration.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯... kidding me¡­¡± Chad muttered as he tugged the red linen pants up his legs, struggling to cram his new hooves through the leg holes. As ridiculous as they were, (the hooves, not the pants) he was at least thankful he didn¡¯t seem to be having any trouble walking on them, although they did make him feel like he was walking on high-heels. Not that he knew what that felt like, but he¡¯d heard Mandy complain about it enough to guess.


    Finally, he¡¯d emerged from the woods, sweaty and irritated, but in sight of the huge city gate he¡¯d expected to find, complete with portcullis and everything. It was built into the city¡¯s outermost wall, that started at some point down near the coastline to Chad¡¯s left, and continued on towards the sloping mountain peaks to his right. As he approached, Chad could also see the expected collection of ramshackle wooden structures, built out from and in some places leaning against the city walls, forming a pitiable little shanty village that he was sure this city only barely tolerated the presence of. As he walked straight down the center of the main road, he could see people lurking in doorways, leaning over rooftops, and in general watching him like a group of hawks as he stalked towards the gate. To his complete and utter lack of surprise, a lot of the people he saw out here seemed to have the features of various animals. He saw people with dog ears, and people with horns like those of a goat or ram or bull, and even a few winged people who walked on taloned feet.


    ¡°It¡¯s always the animal people,¡± he sighed as he passed, hands shoved into the pockets of his stolen pants. ¡°Wonder how long till I see some fuckin¡¯ elves¡­¡±


    His approach to the gate hadn¡¯t gone unnoticed by its occupants either. He could see eight men standing in a loose formation in front of the actual gate itself, as well as three more stationed in a gatehouse nearby, and several men with crossbows leaning lazily out of narrow windows that ran along the length of the wall overhead.


    ¡°City¡¯s closed fer the night, goat boy,¡± one of the guardsman told him once he stopped, just outside the ring of light cast by a firepit that the guards were maintaining. ¡°Y¡¯can go n¡¯beg in the city once the sun¡¯s up, if y¡¯got the coin fer the toll.¡±


    Chad rolled his eyes at that. He supposed he would look like a vagrant, wearing only stolen pants and no shirt. He glanced at the gateway again. The portcullis was raised, and only one of the massive banded wood doors was closed, the other one hanging wide open. If he had any money, he¡¯d bet that it was left that way just because it was more convenient for these guards to not have to wait for the gate when changing shifts.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a beggar, I just want to ask you guys some questions,¡± Chad said, crossing his arms over his chest. Not because he was cold or anything. Even though he could tell it was a cool night out, he felt fine. A little on the warm side, even.


    ¡°Why?¡± one of the guards sneered at him, pointing back the way he¡¯d come with a knife he¡¯d been using to carve slices off an apple. ¡°So a couple¡¯a your sneaky little accomplices can slip into the city while we¡¯re distracted?¡±


    By now, all eight of the guards had turned their attention on him, and those that were sitting had stood up. Chad glanced back over his shoulder, and saw that there were indeed several small clusters of people from the shanty village standing out in the open and watching their exchange from a respectable distance.


    ¡°Tsh, don¡¯t lump me in with them,¡± Chad scoffed, facing forward again. ¡°I just need some information, like where the fuck I am.¡±


    ¡°Bloody sod¡¯s gone and drunk himself stupid,¡± another of the guards muttered, and the other seven laughed, and, looking back, Chad supposed that was the point where he made his first mistake.


    ¡°Hey!¡± he shouted, clenching his hands into fists and taking a step forward. ¡°I tried askin¡¯ you nicely, but if you want a free ass beatin¡¯ first, that¡¯s fine by me!¡±


    Even in the moment, he was aware that he¡¯d let his temper get the better of him, but in his defense, this was a very stressful situation. All at once, the guards stopped laughing, and several of them took one or two steps backwards. One of them, the largest by far with a thick beard of curly black hair and huge slab-like hands, stepped forward instead, either unaware or uncaring for whatever had startled the others.


    ¡°Are you threatenin¡¯ officers of the law, goat boy?¡± he asked sardonically, chuckling darkly and cracking his knuckles as he approached. ¡°That¡¯s a serious offense, y¡¯know?¡±


    ¡°Eh, c-corporal¡­¡± one of the guards behind the man spoke up, nervously, pointing a shaking finger at Chad. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think that¡¯s no goat, look at ¡®im.¡±


    The corporal glanced back at his fellow guards, then at Chad, his thick bushy eyebrows knitting together in confusion.


    ¡°What in the¡­ what are you, some kinda¡­ freaky elf-goat half-breed?¡± the man asked, disgust evident in his voice at the very idea. He closed in on Chad, intent on getting a better look at him, and Chad clenched his fists even tighter.


    Yes, his first mistake had been stepping into the light, where the guards could see his purple skin, his horns, hooves, and tail, and the one feature of his new body he hadn¡¯t been able to see for himself yet: his eyes, which were a deep, light-devouring black, except for the pupils, which stood out as tiny flickering points of orange light.


    Chad¡¯s second mistake was losing control of his temper, and lashing out. But that was nothing new.


    ¡°Who¡¯re you callin¡¯ a freak?!¡± Chad roared, and with practiced smoothness, stepped forward and decked the man square in the face with a powerful hook. As expected of anyone who received such a sudden blow right to the softest part of their nose, the big man reeled back in pain. What was unexpected was that Chad¡¯s fist had caught fire as he swung it, so that when it made contact with the larger man¡¯s face, both his beard and his thick, bushy eyebrows went up in flames.


    Then, as the man went down screaming, rolling on the ground and patting at his scorched facial hair, while his broken nose gushed blood, and all the other guards recoiled in shock and terror, Chad made his third mistake, and ran into the city instead of away from it.


    ¡°My fault, really,¡± Chad panted with his back to a wall, catching his breath while he had the chance. He¡¯d lost the guards from the gate easily enough, but he¡¯d underestimated just how many more guards would be inside the city itself. He¡¯d spent the entire rest of the early morning weaving his way deeper and deeper into the city, ducking his pursuers at every opportunity, which became a lot easier when he discovered that that fire punch thing from before hadn¡¯t been a fluke.


    Chad held up his hand, concentrating for half a second on his palm, and watched with carefully maintained disinterest as a softball sized ball of fire appeared in it, ready to be hurled at anything and anyone that got in his way.


    ¡°You¡¯d think they¡¯d get the hint after the first hour,¡± Chad growled, shaking his hand and dispersing the fire. Even now, he could hear distant shouts, and the shrill trilling of the metal whistles all of the guards carried. He only knew it had been over an hour because he¡¯d heard the sound of a belltower¡¯s bell ringing out across the city twice now; once early on in the chase, and one more a few minutes ago.


    By now, the sun was well past rising, and he figured more and more people would be hitting the streets, and hoped that might give him a better chance to slip away unnoticed.


    Suddenly, one of the doors that lined the sides of this secluded alleyway creaked opened beside him, and Chad was grabbed roughly by the shoulders and yanked inside.


    ¡°You fuck¡ªmph!¡±


    Chad was silenced by a hand larger than his face, clamping down over his mouth and pressing his back against a wall. The hand¡¯s owner, a hugely muscled older man with thick, bull-like horns jutting out of his temples, held his other hand up in front of his own face, one finger raised in the universal symbol for ¡°Shhh.¡±


    Outside, Chad could hear muffled shouting and boots thundering past the door, presumably the guards he would have had to start running from all over again if this¡­ bull man hadn¡¯t pulled him inside. As grateful as Chad was, the man¡¯s hand stank, and he really wanted to reach up and pry it away from his mouth.


    Finally, long after the alley outside had fallen silent again, the man removed his hand, and stood up to his full seven foot height. Even standing tall on his hooves, that was well over Chad¡¯s head.


    ¡°Eh¡­ thanks, man,¡± Chad muttered as gratefully as he could, rubbing his chin and glancing around at the room he¡¯d been pulled into. It was dimly lit, the windows that would let in the growing sunlight outside blocked by the many other buildings just like this one that were all crammed together in such close proximity. There was no real separation from the entranceway he was standing in, and the small sitting room beyond, where he could make out more people, sitting on a sagging sofa and watching him curiously.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s been causin¡¯ all the commotion out there, huh?¡± the man said with a snort, clearly unimpressed.


    ¡°What is it, Da?¡± a young girl with short, curled ram¡¯s horns on the sides of her head, asked from the couch, standing to get a better look. She appeared to be about fifteen, but it was hard to tell because she was so scrawny. There was also a younger boy hiding behind the girl, and as Chad watched, a woman with a similar towering physique to the first man emerged from just inside a doorway to stand in front of the children.


    ¡°Don¡¯t rightly know, Zofia,¡± the man said, looking Chad up and down. ¡°Word up n¡¯ down the streets is ¡®demon,¡¯ but I ain¡¯t never seen a real demon up close before. That what you are, lad?¡±


    ¡°Dude, I don¡¯t know, I just woke up,¡± Chad said sourly, and the man laughed.


    ¡°Suppose that¡¯s fair.¡± The man nodded, scratching at his chin. ¡°T¡¯be honest, makes no difference t¡¯me. They say demons like you run wild if you don¡¯t got a warlock with a pact keepin¡¯ you in line, rampagin¡¯ and pillagin¡¯ until you¡¯re brought down.¡± Tilting his head to the side, he peer down at Chad again. ¡°You don¡¯t look like you got much rampage in ya. You plannin¡¯ on destroyin¡¯ me and my family, lad?¡±


    Chad stared up at the seven foot tall bull-man with biceps bigger around than his head and hands like wrecking balls, then glanced back to the woman still hovering protectively in front of the children who was also built like a brick shithouse, and met the man¡¯s eyes again.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Chad liked to think that he was pretty strong, but he also knew a bad matchup when he saw it. He might have gotten away with sucker punching the big guard at the gate, but this bull guy looked like he could rip Chad¡¯s arm right out of its socket if he tried anything funny.


    ¡°Figured as much,¡± the man said, his serious face breaking out into an amused smirk. ¡°Can¡¯t trust nothin¡¯ you hear in the Empire, y¡¯know? They also say us beastfolk are lesser begins, created by mistake, so I¡¯m disinclined to believe everything they say. Y¡¯seem to me to just be another downtrodden soul, caught at the Empire¡¯s mercy.¡±


    The man laughed, and Chad just stared up at him blankly. He¡¯d been able to put it off for now, what with all the running for his life he¡¯d had to do, but it was finally starting to sink in that he really did seem to have been dropped on his ass in some literal fantasy world.


    ¡°Uuuugh¡­¡± Chad groaned, reaching up to try and run a hand across his forehead, but found that his horns got in the way. ¡°This is so¡­ stupid¡­¡±


    The man exchanged a glance with the woman, presumably his wife, then cleared his throat.


    ¡°I can tell you¡¯re havin¡¯ a tough time of it, lad. You¡¯re welcome to hide out here until the guards lose your scent, but I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t offer you much more than that,¡± the man said, offering a hand and friendly smile. ¡°Th¡¯name¡¯s Zangari. That there¡¯s my wife, Katenka, and over there, my daughter Zofia and my youngest son, Pyotr.¡±


    ¡°Uh, Chad,¡± Chad said, reaching out and shaking Zangari¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Chad, eh?¡± Zangari repeated, chuckling while giving his hand a firm shake. ¡°Odd name, but I suppose you are a demon.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a demon,¡± Chad said testily, holding up his hand and scowling at the purple color. ¡°I guess I must look like one, but I¡¯m a human. I just woke up looking like this.¡±


    Zangari raised an eyebrow at that, stepping back into the house and motioning for Chad to follow.


    ¡°Truly?¡± he said, leading Chad into the sitting room, where the two children had been watching from. ¡°I¡¯d heard that demons were summoned, but I never heard about someone¡¯ gettin¡¯ made into a demon. Which royal mage did you offend to end up havin¡¯ that done to you, then?¡±


    Chad suppressed another groan. Of course there were wizards.


    Wait. No, scratch that. Of course! There were wizards!


    If this world had magic¡ªand, honestly, how could it not? Had he not been throwing fireballs around an hour ago?¡ªcould that explain how he ended up here in the first place? If so, could it send him back home? He definitely didn¡¯t want to spend the rest of his life in this shithole of a fantasy world with its¡­ fantasy racism. It was so stupid; how do you have people working like peasants and living in squalor when magic exists?


    When Chad didn¡¯t answer the question, Zangari just shrugged and motioned to the lumpy, deflated-looking couch. ¡°Well, just take a load off here, my friend. Katenka, bring some water.¡± Turning back to Chad, he asked, ¡°You hungry, lad? Got some dried fruit and sausages we can spare.¡±


    ¡°Zan,¡± the woman, Katenka, finally spoke up, crossing her thick arms. Like Zangari, she had the horns of a bull, only hers were slightly shorter and curved inwards at the tips. ¡°We can¡¯t keep a rogue demon here. You shouldn¡¯t even have brought it inside, who knows how many eyes saw you? I¡¯m sure The Rat King already knows it''s here.¡±


    ¡°Fuck¡¯s sake¡­¡± Chad muttered, bringing a hand to his forehead.


    ¡°Kat,¡± Zangari said softly, walking over towards his wife. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. An hour, nothing more, just until the commotion dies down.¡±


    Chad tuned out the quiet argument that ensued between the pair, sighing and slumping backwards on the couch. Honestly, it wasn¡¯t the most uncomfortable couch he¡¯d ever sat on, but it was awkward trying to find a way to sit without his stupid tail getting in the way. He caught movement out of the corner of one eye, and saw the young boy, Pyotr, duck down behind the arm of the couch. Except he didn¡¯t duck far enough, and the tips of his nubby little horns were poking up over the edge.


    ¡°I can see you,¡± Chad said, and the boy raised his head again, resting his chin on the arm of the couch.


    ¡°Are you here t¡¯eat me sis¡¯s souls?¡± Pyotr asked.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°They say demons eat souls, n¡¯they like kids'' souls best ¡®cause they¡¯re more fresh,¡± Pyotr explained, and Chad took in a deep breath through his nose, laying his head down against the back of the couch again.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a demon,¡± Chad said, closing his eyes. ¡°And I¡¯m not here to eat your souls.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Pyotr fell silent for a second, but Chad didn¡¯t actually hear him move on from the couch, and when he cracked an eye open, the boy was still there, leaning over the arm and staring even more intently.


    ¡°If I pay you five spears, would you eat the district manager¡¯s soul?¡± Pyotr asked, his large brown eyes sparkling.


    ¡°What?¡± Chad asked, furrowing his brow slightly. ¡°Spears?¡±


    Pyotr nodded, fishing around inside the pocket of his grey, roughspun pants, pulling out a small, silver, dirt smeared coin and holding it out on his palm. Chad peered down at it and saw that, in addition to some tiny writing he was too tired to bother trying to make out, it also had an image of a spear engraved in it.


    ¡°I been savin¡¯ the coppers I get from sweepin¡¯ hair at the barber, and some of the folks what visit from the upper districts¡¯ll throw coins to us kids, just to make us go away,¡± Pyotr explained, turning the coin over, showing a sideways profile of a woman with her chin raised high, with a rose in her hair and a lightning bolt circling the outer edge.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you all five of ¡®em if you eat the district manager¡¯s soul. He¡¯s a¡­¡± Pyotr glanced surreptitiously at his parents, who had receded further into the side hallway to have the rest of their tense conversation. ¡°He¡¯s a warty prick.¡±


    Chad failed to suppress a snort of laughter, which only seemed to encourage the young boy.


    ¡°He¡¯s real nasty,¡± Pyotr said, nodding sagely. ¡°He takes bribes from The Rat King, and if his guards catch you on the streets after dark they¡¯ll toss you outside the walls with the beggars.¡±


    ¡°Geez, kid,¡± Chad said, waving his hand in a shooing motion. ¡°Keep your money. Like I said, I don¡¯t eat souls.¡± Pyotr frowned at that, returning the dirty coin to his pocket and sliding back off the edge of the couch, and Chad felt himself wince internally.


    Ah¡­ fuck¡­


    ¡°Tell you what, though,¡± Chad said, clearing his throat and averting his gaze from Pyotr¡¯s suddenly wide, hopeful eyes. ¡°If I ever meet this district manager, I¡¯ll kick him right in his warty prick for you, eh?¡±


    Pyotr beamed at that, letting out a peal of laughter that was cut short by the daughter, Zofia, finally noticing him perched on the edge of the couch and scooping him up to hold protectively.


    ¡°Pyotr, stop bothering the¡­ our guest,¡± Zofia admonished, carrying the boy off towards another part of the house while he protested weakly.


    Left to his own devices again, Chad took another deep breath, then let out a tired sigh.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said aloud, slapping his hands onto his knees and pushing himself to his feet¡­ er, his hooves.


    Fuck. So stupid.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Walking until he could peer down the short hallway that Zangari and Katenka were conversing in, Chad called out.


    ¡°Hey, y¡¯know what? I¡¯m just gonna get going now.¡±


    Turning to face him, Zangari looked abashed, stepping out into the sitting room and waving his hands.


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s not¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± Chad interrupted, holding up his hand. ¡°No, I know how this works. You let me stay here ¡®just until it¡¯s safe,¡¯ and then something horrible happens to you because of it.¡± Shaking his head, Chad turned towards the front door. ¡°Either the guards find me, and take it out on you and your nice little family, and I get captured, or this¡­ Rat King, who I can only assume is some greasy slimeball mob boss, finds me here and then fuckin¡¯ tries to blackmail you, and I get captured anyway, or something even worse¡­ s¡¯not important. Point is, I¡¯m outta here before any of that can happen.¡±


    Saying this, Chad turned and made for the door, his hand already on its way to the handle, when someone on the other side knocked hard enough to make it rattle in its frame.


    ¡°City guard! Open up!¡±


    ¡°God¡­ damnit¡­¡±


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    ¡°Absolutely not! I do not believe it! I refuse to believe it!¡±


    Captain Vittorio was shouting, but Mandy was starting to assume that was just how he talked most of the time. He, as well as the priest, Brother Eugene, and the rest of the other uniformed men and women, who turned out to be Captain Vittorio¡¯s crew, had all climbed up the gangplank into the boat following the priest¡¯s ¡°revelation.¡±


    No, wait, they call it a ship, Mandy reminded herself. And, if that crazy old preacher is to be believed, that ship is me.


    Mandy wanted to try denying it, just for a few more minutes, but it was kind of hard to ignore when she could literally feel every pair of boots as the soldiers and sailors began to walk across¡­ her decks. Because apparently she had decks now. And masts. And sails, and just a ridiculous amount of cannons.


    ¡°Fourteen cannons,¡± Mandy whispered to herself. ¡°Seven per side, not counting the little ones mounted on the front¡­¡± There was actually no ambiguity in the count. She could feel each and every cannon, down to the wheeled wooden frames, and the ropes that were currently keeping them secured in place.


    ¡°It is rather remarkable, isn¡¯t it, Captain?¡± Brother Eugene said, his cheerful tone completely at odds with the captain¡¯s seething anger. He had pulled up a chair at the huge, ornately carved desk that sat front and center in the captain¡¯s cabin, and was resting comfortably while Captain Vittorio paced in front of it like an angry dog.


    ¡°Just think about it,¡± Brother Eugene continued as though he were completely oblivious to the other man¡¯s ire. ¡°Not only does a newly arrived divine aspect appear in our humble port, but she¡¯s also manifested as the first ever recorded case of a spirit bonding with an entire vessel. Why it¡¯s¡­ unprecedented!¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, it¡¯s a bloody miracle, but why here? Why now? Why my ship and not a more important vessel, like the Black Rose?!¡± Captain Vittorio ranted, running a hand through his hair, his large hat having been tossed away in frustration several minutes ago. ¡°I thought aspects of the goddess only manifested in actual flesh and blood members of the royal family. Why would one take the form of an arsenal spirit?¡±


    ¡°Mmh, yes, typically that is the case,¡± Brother Eugene said, leaning back in his chair and lifting his eyes to the ceiling. ¡°Divine aspects are said to be born into the world when a god or goddess has a particular goal they wish to see enacted in the mortal realm, or to help guide their followers towards a better understanding of their wants and needs. Aspects of the Goddess of Love and War have appeared many, many times in the royal bloodline, and we owe much of our more sophisticated understanding of the goddess¡¯s will to their existences. If one has appeared, here and now, it must be for a very important reason.¡±


    Captain Vittorio was still visibly fuming, but it was clear he was finally running out of steam. He groaned, running his hand down his face now instead of through his hair. Turning to stare down Brother Eugene head on, he leaned in and placed both hands down on the table.


    ¡°Fine, yes, I can¡¯t deny that,¡± Captain Vittorio said, sounding defeated. ¡°Just tell me, Brother, are you absolutely certain that that girl¡­ that the spirit is genuine?¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, Captain,¡± Brother Eugene said, beaming that smile that even now put Mandy on edge. ¡°She may have been disoriented from her arrival and acted¡­ oddly, but there is no mistaking it. It is said in the goddess¡¯s scripture that her messengers would be so beautiful, their majesty would shine through even if they were stripped naked and thrown in a pit of mud.¡±


    ¡°Eugh, thanks for that mental image, dude,¡± Mandy muttered, rolling her eyes. ¡°Definitely not doing that if they ask.¡±


    Captain Vittorio sighed and hung his head, apparently finally giving up the ghost.


    ¡°Fine¡­ I will¡­ make preparations to alter our course. How soon can you have word sent to the capital?¡±


    ¡°It is already done,¡± Brother Eugene said, holding up his hands and grinning. ¡°Two of the fastest couriers in town have been dispatched, one to the capital, one to Rear Admiral Bernhard.¡±


    ¡°About freakin¡¯ time,¡± Mandy said to herself, loudly and irritably. She wasn¡¯t in the captain''s quarters with the other two, technically. That is to say, the version of her that looked like an actual human person, but was actually just some kind of magical mental projection, was currently sitting up in the crow¡¯s nest, leaning on the railing and peering out at the ocean. Exactly where she¡¯d been for the past fifteen minutes or so. That didn¡¯t mean she couldn¡¯t still hear every word that the pair were saying, as well as listen in on any other conversation that was going on between any of the other sailors, if she cared too.


    ¡°...seen the captain''s face so red¡­¡±


    ¡°...¡¯bout lost my nerve when ¡®is hand went right through ¡®er¡­¡±


    ¡°...really think she¡¯s sent by the bleedin¡¯ goddess?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. Figured a slice a¡¯ the Goddess of Love n¡¯ War would be a little more¡­ impressive?¡±


    ¡°You weren¡¯t standin¡¯ close to ¡®er when she let off that shout. Tell ya, surprised my ears ain¡¯t bleedin.¡±


    ¡°Y''gotta admit, though. She does look an awful lot like one ¡®a the royal descendants.¡±


    ¡°Psh, like your gutter-born ass has ever seen a royal in person!¡±


    It was¡­ exhausting. Not because she couldn¡¯t keep track of everything that was going on, but because she could, if she expanded her focus to cover multiple rooms and corridors. It actually took more active effort on her part to ignore something that happened¡­ inside her, (and wasn¡¯t that going to get old quick) but like most aspects of her bizarre new existence, she was picking it up fast.


    She also didn''t feel any particular need to reveal that she could hear and see anything happening aboard the ship, of course. It''d help her gather more information about wherever the hell this place was and what was going on and, most importantly, help her better sell the image of being some kind of goddess''s avatar or aspect or whatever.


    ¡°S''no skin off my back if they can''t figure it out on her own,¡± Mandy said, shrugging and standing up straight, stretching her arms over her head. The move was mostly out of habit; her projection didn''t really get sore, it seemed. Or hungry, or thirsty, which meant she¡¯d probably never need to use the restroom again. Mandy never thought she''d have to wonder if she would miss those sensations, but here she was.


    ¡°Alright, I think I''ve given them long enough. Let''s see¡­¡± Taking a deep breath, Mandy closed her eyes and just¡­ stopped focusing on her ¡°body.¡± All at once, her projection vanished, and for a short time she was just a boat again. She could feel herself bobbing on the tides, and count all nearly thirty pairs of boots from the soldiers milling around on her decks, plus the heavier footfalls of the deck hands who were even now loading her hull up with cargo and supplies. She could feel her sails, bound up tight and just waiting to be unfurled, and she could still hear, and see, Captain Vittorio¡¯s somber frown as he accepted the inevitability of his situation.


    If Mandy had a mouth at that moment, she would be smirking. With a thought, her projection partially emerged out of the center of the table between Captain Vittorio and Brother Eugene.


    ¡°¡ªhave to secure extra¡ªach!¡±


    Captain Vittorio, who had still been leaning over the table with both palms pressed to the surface, let out a startled yelp and stumbled backwards, going for his sword again, before he realized it was just Mandy.


    ¡°My apologies, Captain,¡± Mandy said sweetly, with only her head and shoulders poking up out of the table. Captain Vittorio just narrowed his eyes at her and recovered his posture, straightening his coat again. Mandy turned to the priest, who was much less perturbed by her popping out of the table. Or, at least, he was doing a better job at hiding it.


    ¡°Have you two settled your little disagreement yet? I am eager to get under way as soon as possible,¡± Mandy said, rising higher out of the table until she was resting her elbows on its surface with her chin in her hands. Mandy had played her fair share of roles in her time, and though she usually preferred leading ladies, she hadn''t turned down her chance to play the odd evil queen or jealous step sister. She knew how to act haughty and disinterested with everything around her, and while she still didn''t know nearly enough about this ¡°Goddess of Love and War,¡± she figured that was a solid foundation to build from.


    Plus, she already had a plan to fix her lack of information.


    ¡°I believe so,¡± Brother Eugene said, folding his hands and smiling. ¡°As I have informed Captain Vittorio, word of your miraculous appearance is already being sent ahead to the capital, and they will be expecting our arrival. With favorable wind and tides, we should reach the capital within a week or so. Captain Vittorio''s deployment is being postponed, temporarily postponed, so that we may bring you to meet both the royal family, and the archbishop.¡±


    ¡°Oh, wonderful!¡± Mandy said cheerfully while groaning internally. This news had just raised the priority of filling in the gaps in her knowledge by several notches.


    Behind her, Mandy could see Captain Vittorio¡¯s frown deepen. Oh, she was already starting to love having almost literal eyes in the back of her head.


    ¡°Is something the matter, Captain?¡± Mandy asked, throwing a glance back over her shoulder, catching the man in the middle of trying to hide his expression. ¡°You don''t seem as excited by the news.¡±


    Forcing a neutral expression into place, the captain shook his head, saying, ¡°No, my lady. These recent developments have simply come as a great surprise to me.¡±


    Hmm. Well that''s no good. She understood it would be necessary for most of the crew to maintain a healthy amount of deference to her, but she wanted these two relaxed enough that they''d actually be able to talk to her, otherwise she might not be able to get any info out of them.


    ¡°Captain, please, there is no need for you to be so formal with me,¡± Mandy said, feeling a little thrill at the way Captain Vittorio¡¯s head jerked back fractionally at that. ¡°If there''s something still bothering you, I''d like to know about it. I promise, you are not about to be smited for talking out of turn, so feel free to speak as candidly as you like.¡±


    The lines of confusion in Captain Vittorio¡¯s brows continued to deepen as she went on, and he flicked his eyes to the side, exchanging glances with Brother Eugene. The older man seemed just as bemused, and offered a miniscule shrug.


    ¡°As you say, my lady,¡± Captain Vittorio said, clearing his throat. ¡°To be honest, I am¡­ not pleased by the sudden turn of events, and what it likely heralds for my own career. This ship you have chosen to inhabit was slated for my command, but I fear that upon our arrival at the capital it will be¡­ taken from me, and I will be left waiting for the next new ship to become available before I can finally¡­ before my chance to lead the fight against the Empire¡¯s enemies presents itself again.¡±


    Ah, so it was that after all. Mandy had caught some of the other soldiers speculating about this very topic earlier.


    ¡°What''cha suppose happens to us when we reach the capital?¡±


    ¡°Dunno, figure they get one look at that spirit lady an¡¯ decide the lot of us ain''t ¡®worthy¡¯ enough to keep sailin¡¯ ¡®er, send us packin¡¯ back to the landing.¡±


    ¡°Hear that. Probably hand her off to some royal brat who still has his milk teeth to play admiral with, too.¡±


    Yeah, Mandy definitely didn''t like the sound of that, and fortunately it seemed like Captain Vittorio didn''t either. She cupped a hand to her chin to give the impression she was actually thinking it over, but she''d already figured this would be a sticking point for the captain. For some reason, he seemed to have a bit of a chip on his shoulder about coming from the little harbor town of Strom¡¯s Landing, and was looking forward to this deployment as a chance to prove himself. Mandy didn''t really get it, but she did know how to make use of it.


    ¡°Is that all?¡± she asked, cocking her head to the side with a smile. ¡°You should have just said so, Captain. If you''re afraid you''ll be passed over for your chance because of me, then I can simply tell them I will have you as my captain, or I will have no captain at all.¡±


    Mandy delighted in the looks of surprise she saw on the faces of Captain Vittorio, Brother Eugene, and the scrawny little sailor who had been cajoled by some of his compatriots to sneak over and listen in at the door. That last one, Mandy noticed curiously, seemed to have the pointed ears and fuzzy tail of some kind of dog.


    Overcoming his surprise quickly, Captain Vittorio now looked at her with hopeful suspicion. He narrowed his eyes at her, and his flat mouth took an almost invisible downward turn.


    ¡°Why? Don¡¯t get me wrong, I am more than grateful that you would consider doing something like that, but why would you do that for me? I can¡¯t imagine I¡¯ve made the best first impression of myself.¡±


    ¡°Why else?¡± Mandy said, holding a hand to her chest and smiling enigmatically. ¡°You said so yourself: It is my fault you¡¯re being inconvenienced, so I would feel terrible to see you ousted from your appointment and sent back to your hometown in disgrace, to have to wait goddess knows how long for another ship.¡± Putting on her most winning smile¡ªliterally, she had won more than one pageant before she was even a teenager with that smile¡ªMandy bowed her head towards Captain Vittorio.


    ¡°The goddess is merciful, is she not?¡±


    That, thankfully, seemed to finally convince the captain that she was on his side, and Mandy¡¯s smile grew wider as his shoulders relaxed and his hands unclenched at his sides. She didn''t think she''d fully won him over just yet, but it was a nice foundation.


    ¡°I¡­ suppose she is,¡± Captain Vittorio said, with a contemplative look on his face. Wordlessly, he turned and began to stalk towards the door out of the cabin. The very same door that the young dog-eared soldier was still listening at intently.


    Well, that won''t do.


    ¡°Ah, are you leaving, Captain?¡± Mandy asked, projecting her voice just enough that she was sure the man would hear it through the door. His eyes widened, and he turned, quickly but carefully shuffling off down the hall towards where his fellows were waiting for him.


    ¡°I should¡­ see to the dockhands,¡± Captain Vittorio said, in a much more subdued tone. ¡°Make sure they''re unloading everything properly.¡±


    ¡°Ah, very good,¡± Mandy said, putting on another smile. ¡°Until next time then, Captain.¡±


    Again, Captain Vittorio seemed not to know how to respond, so he simply didn''t. Giving her a final bow, he continued towards the door, slipping out into the hall without another word. Mandy watched as he let his back fall against the door behind him and brought a hand to his face, running it up over his forehead and through his hair, fastidiously straightening it just like he did with his uniform.


    Weird guy, Mandy thought, as she turned to face Brother Eugene. Now that she was done bothering the captain, she didn''t need to keep standing in the table. Gripping the edge, she pulled herself up out of the wood surface like she was climbing out of a pool, and took a seat on top of the table, crossing one leg over the other.


    ¡°Brother Eugene,¡± Mandy began with a smile. ¡°I''m glad I finally have a chance to speak with you.¡±


    ¡°Oh? I thank you, ah, my lady,¡± Brother Eugene replied, bowing his head briefly. ¡°If I may be so bold, may I ask your name? Or perhaps, what title you wish to go by during your stay here in the mortal realm?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Brother Eugene,¡± Amanda said, raising her chin and placing a hand to her chest. ¡°My name is ¡®Scarlett¡¯ but you and the rest of the crew may call me ¡®Lady Scarlett.''¡±


    It didn''t take a genius to figure out that these guys, and probably the empire in general, had a real thing for the color red, considering how much of it made up the majority of their uniforms.


    ¡°Lady Scarlett then,¡± Brother Eugene said, beaming with pleasure. ¡°What can this humble brother do for you?¡±


    ¡°I''ve been meaning to ask you a few questions, actually,¡± Mandy said, and though his eyebrows raised slightly, Brother Eugene nodded quickly.


    ¡°Anything, my lady.¡±


    ¡°You are a priest of the ch¡ªer, temple, right?¡± Mandy asked, remembering when she''d overheard him saying something about dispatching a messenger to the ¡°temple.¡± Another nod from Brother Eugene, and Mandy¡¯s smile widened. ¡°Do you happen to¡­ carry any of the goddess''s scripture on your person?¡±


    Brother Eugene''s own smile remained in place, but his brows furrowed slightly in confusion, and he asked, ¡°Do you mean¡­ books or scrolls of the goddess''s teachings?¡±


    ¡°Yes, exactly that,¡± Mandy said, and felt a stab of disappointment when Brother Eugene did not immediately begin pulling scrolls of helpful exposition out of his robes, but instead just frowned and shook his head.


    ¡°No, my lady, I''m afraid I don''t. Those are kept in the temple''s library, under lock and key,¡± Brother Eugene explained while Mandy did her best to nod along casually while, inside, her frustrations mounted. ¡°Something like that is far too significant and valuable for me to just carry around with me in this town, even with an armed escort.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Mandy asked with a tiny hint of feigned concern.


    ¡°I''m afraid so, but it wouldn¡¯t be proper of me to speak of such matters in the presence of the goddess¡¯ envoy.¡± Brother Eugene said, folding his hands inside the sleeves of his robe again.


    Didn¡¯t she just say they didn¡¯t need to be so uptight with her? She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d have to explain it twice, but here she was.


    ¡°Brother Eugene, I told you, there¡¯s absolutely no need to be so stiff,¡± Mandy said, raising an eyebrow and giving him a sly smirk. ¡°You speak to the goddess every single day, do you not?¡± Brother Eugene hesitated for a moment before giving her a nervous nod, and her smile grew. ¡°Well, there you go! Just speak to me as though I am an old friend.¡±


    That seemed to satisfy the priest, for now, and he settled a little more comfortably into his seat.


    ¡°Well, you didn''t hear this from me, but Strom¡¯s Landing has fallen far from its former glory as one of Fulgar''s most thriving seaports.¡± Closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair, the man shook his head and sighed. ¡°It¡¯s the beastkin, you see. If it were up to me, my lady, we¡¯d have never let so many of those troublemakers in from the colonies. And they¡¯ve even begun allowing them into the royal army as well! Disgraceful, if you ask me.¡±


    Geez, this guy can really carry on a conversation by himself, huh? Not surprising, I guess, he is a priest.


    Though, there was at least one piece of crucial information in his rambling: what the deal was with the animal people she¡¯d been seeing, like the huge guys with bull horns who made up most of the dockhands currently loading cargo into her. She¡¯d noticed them earlier, as well as other seemingly ordinary humans with the horns, ears, tails, and in some cases, wings, mixed into the crowd that had been watching the ceremony. Even now, looking out from her hull, she could see a crowd of children with dog ears and tails, just like the young soldier who¡¯d been spying, kicking a ball back and forth in front of a shop a short distance from the docks.


    Beastkin, eh? Are they all the same species, then? They kinda just look like people with extra bits stuck on, but what determines whether someone is born a bull guy or a dog boy or bird girl or what? And what¡¯s this dude¡¯s problem with them? Ah well, later.


    Clearing her throat, Mandy sat up straighter, drawing Brother Eugene out of the explanation that had quickly devolved into a monologue.


    ¡°Well then, in that case, I have another request for you,¡± Mandy said, lifting her chin to peer down her nose at Brother Eugene from her perch on the edge of the table. ¡°I would like you to¡­ recite some of those teachings for me. Start with the basics, and then move on to some more complicated topics.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Brother Eugene said, blinking in surprise. ¡°But of course, Lady Scarlett, I would be happy to, although¡­ may I ask¡­ why?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± Mandy asked with a coy little smile. It was one of her favorite questions to ask, usually because it either meant she got someone to admit she knew something that they didn¡¯t, or they would try to play along like they did, and often end up blurting something out they thought she already knew. A win-win, honestly.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, my lady,¡± Brother Eugene said, shaking his head.


    ¡°I wish to know how well you have been interpreting the goddess¡¯s words,¡± Mandy said, stressing the idea that it was possible they¡¯d been getting it wrong up until now. ¡°I want to see how well you¡¯ve understood them and taken them to heart.¡±


    ¡°Ah!¡± Brother Eugene said, his eyes widening with realization and his hand going to his chin. ¡°I see, I see. I can¡¯t say I¡¯m not¡­ honored to be asked to deliver a sermon to a manifestation of the goddess¡¯s very will, but I am simply not worthy. Would it not be best to wait until we reach the capital? I¡¯m sure the archbishop there will be able to make anything I could say sound like the drunken ramblings of a vagrant.¡±


    Ugh, come on! How hard can it be to get a preacher to preach!


    Thankfully, with a body that wasn¡¯t, strictly speaking, real, it was even easier to suppress her irritation and keep her face and tone completely neutral, as she said, ¡°I¡¯ve no doubt this¡­ archbishop is more learned than you, but I suspect that I¡¯ll be rather busy once we arrive in the capital. I would like to hear it from you first, so that I might have something to compare the archbishop¡¯s words against.¡± Leaning forward and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial hush, Mandy smirked and said, ¡°I fear that, due to my position, he may be compelled to tell me an¡­ enhanced version of the truth. To tell me what he thinks I want to hear, rather than what I actually want to hear, understand?¡±


    ¡°Aaah.¡± Realization lit up Brother Eugene¡¯s face and he nodded in understanding, then tilted his head slightly. ¡°Ah, but do you not fear the same from me?¡±


    ¡°Why, Brother Eugene, of course not,¡± Mandy sat up straight again, resting her hands on her knee and putting on her most imperious smile, a smile that said ¡°Go ahead, cross me, if you dare!¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re going to be completely honest with me, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Some of the color drained from Brother Eugene¡¯s cheeks, and Mandy thought she even started to see sweat forming on his brow, and wondered if maybe she overdid it.


    Mmh¡­ nah¡­


    ¡°Oh course I will, my lady,¡± Brother Eugene said, bowing his head much deeper than he had been before. ¡°I will tell you the entire bloody history of the empire, if it please you.¡±


    ¡°Start with the scripture, and then we¡¯ll see,¡± Mandy said, settling back on the table and propping herself up on her hands. Brother Eugene nodded, and then, finally, began to deliver a brief but extremely vital breakdown of everything Mandy could hope to know about the Goddess of Love and War.


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    ¡°City guard! Open up!¡±


    ¡°Zan, what do we do?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­¡±


    ¡°Ma? Da?¡±


    Chad stepped back from the door with another sigh, while around him the nice little family that had sheltered him for all of, what, three minutes broke out into panicked whispers.


    ¡°This is such bullshit¡­¡± Chad muttered, earning him strange looks from the pair of bull-horned adults. Shaking his head, he motioned for Zangari to come closer, and when the man did, he turned his back to him and motioned at his neck.


    ¡°Here, grab me,¡± he said, and when he felt the man¡¯s huge hands land lightly on his shoulders, he rolled his eyes. ¡°Not like that, man, like you just caught the dangerous demon that¡¯s been running around setting things on fire all morning!¡±


    ¡°This is your last warning! Either you come out, or we¡¯re comin¡¯ in!¡±


    At Chad¡¯s insistent tugging, Zangari eventually got him into a halfway convincing looking choke hold, and together they approached the door.


    ¡°This don¡¯t feel right, lad, I can¡¯t just give you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Man, shut up, we¡¯ve known each other for like two minutes,¡± Chad cut him off with a grumble. As ¡°heartwarming¡± and ¡°inspiring¡± as it may be that this man didn¡¯t want to turn him in, it really was the only way Chad could think of to keep him and his family from getting in trouble.


    And besides, it wasn¡¯t like he was actually giving himself up.


    Reaching out, Chad gripped the handle of the door, and pulled it inward, and Zangari thankfully didn¡¯t need to be instructed to shove forward, bringing himself and his ¡°captive¡± out into the alleyway instead of letting the small crowd of six guards into his home. With a shout of alarm, the group split in half, each one towards a different entrance to the alley, trapping Chad and Zangari between them.


    ¡°S¡¯alright, boys!¡± Zangari bellowed, using his impressive strength to lift Chad briefly off the ground. ¡°I got ¡®im! I got the little bugger!¡±


    Least he knows how to act. That makes one of us.


    Chad, for his part, snarled and kicked his hooved feet in front of him, grabbing the larger man¡¯s wrist and ineffectually tugging at it. He even tried to lash his tail, for added effect, and found it surprisingly easy.


    ¡°Release me, uh, mortal!¡± Chad hissed, hoping he didn¡¯t sound as much like an idiot as he felt. As many times as he¡¯d agreed to read lines opposite Mandy so she could prepare for a part, he¡¯d never gotten any better at it. He tried to refuse, but when your girlfriend asked you for ¡°a tiny favor¡± and promised to ¡°make it worth your while,¡± how could you turn her down?


    Well, ex-girlfriend now, Chad recalled bitterly.


    ¡°Well I¡¯ll be damned!¡± the guard who was at the head of the group in front of him laughed, snapping Chad back to the present. ¡°Knew there was a reason we keep you big ugly bastards around! Keep him held there while we get the cuffs on ¡®im!¡±


    Chad felt Zangari tense behind him, but the man held firm as the first guard approached, pulling a huge, heavy-looking pair of metal shackles from his belt. Chad growled dangerously, but otherwise continued to pretend like he¡¯d been totally subdued, even though both his arms and his legs (and his tail!) were completely free. Seriously, were these guards designed to be incompetent?


    When the guard was less than two steps away, Chad gave the signal. The signal he¡¯d come up with in the two seconds before he and Zangari opened the door.


    ¡°When I tap you with my tail two times, loosen your grip.¡±


    Chad poked Zangari in the stomach twice with the blunt tip of his tail, and the man¡¯s arms came loose. Then, he enacted the part of the plan he hadn¡¯t told Zangari about.


    Chad grabbed the arm that had previously been clamped around his neck, and bit it as hard as he could.


    He had discovered during his self-inspection that all of his teeth now had a slight point to them, with his canines being the most prominent, and had been wondering ever since if they were actually capable of piercing flesh. He felt no special satisfaction when he felt blood enter his mouth, but he figured it would at least better throw the suspicion off of Zangari and his family.


    Ducking out from between the bull man¡¯s arms while he roared in pain, Chad dug his hooves into the ground and shoulder tackled the wide-eyed guard, driving him back into his companion, and then driving those two into the man behind them. Shoving them into a confused, screaming heap, Chad leapt over them and took off down another alleyway.


    In the end, he kind of wished he¡¯d gotten to accept those sausages Zangari had offered him. He was starting to feel hungry.


    A feeling that grew rapidly over the course of the next half hour, as Chad continued to try and dissuade his pursuers by conjuring balls of fire and chucking them haphazardly in the guards¡¯ general directions. It was only when he noticed that every new fireball seemed to make his empty stomach clench that he thought something might be wrong, a suspicion that was confirmed a few minutes later when he collapsed mid run, feeling like someone had stabbed a knife into his stomach.


    ¡°What¡­ the f-fuck!¡± Chad heaved and groaned on the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach. He wasn¡¯t hungry anymore, he was ravenous, and his body was cold and every one of his muscles ached. His vision swam as he rolled onto his side, watching with mind numbing dread as the blurry forms of countless city guards closed in around him. He could see them gesturing and shouting, but his ears were ringing too much to hear.


    Finally, mercifully, Chad blacked out.


    And woke up some time later in a literal, actual, fucking dungeon.


    But not a fucking dungeon, if you know what I mean¡­ Chad¡¯s weary, overstressed brain spat out, and he groaned inwardly.


    Chad could immediately tell that was where he was without even sitting up¡ªnot that he was in any particular hurry to do so¡ªby the sight of rough stone walls and thick iron bars, and the feeling of cold stone on his back. At the very least, he wasn¡¯t freezing cold, and didn''t seem to be starving to death anymore. He actually felt an odd warmth washing over him, centering on a point above his¡ª


    Lifting his head, Chad found a red-skinned, four-fingered hand pressed to his bare chest, and let out a startled yelp, trying to scramble backwards.


    ¡°Sit still!¡±


    The hand¡¯s owner snapped at him and pressed him back down with ease. That was cause for some concern; Chad felt as weak as a kitten, and doubted he¡¯d have made much progress even without the hand holding him down.


    Lifting his eyes, he found that the hand belonged to a woman, and perhaps more importantly, another demon. At least, he assumed that¡¯s what her red skin and pink hair meant. He also jerked back slightly when he saw that she had a third eye situated in the middle of her forehead, between her horns. Her legs didn¡¯t end in hooves like his, but instead feet with only four thick toes. She didn¡¯t have a tail, but she did have small bat-like wings jutting out of her shoulder blades that flapped idly as she leaned over him again.


    Chad also noticed, belatedly, the thick metal shackle on her wrist, identical to his, as well as its twin on her other wrist, and the matching pair around her ankles. Capping them off, a heavy metal collar hung from her neck, visible above the short-hemmed, short-sleeved robe she wore; her only actual article of clothing.


    Damn¡­ maybe it is that kind of dungeon afterall¡­


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look,¡± the woman said at Chad¡¯s sour scowl, probably assuming it was aimed at her and not his own brain. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to make sure you don¡¯t burn yourself out again. It was a near thing, from what I hear. Used up nearly every last drop of mana you had. Would¡¯ve worked, if the guards hadn¡¯t got the demonbinders on you.¡± Turning her head, the woman¡¯s eyes went slightly distant, and she muttered, ¡°Though, I guess if I had the chance to try and banish myself like that, I¡¯d probably take it.¡±


    Chad stared up at the woman from his prone position, his eyes narrowing and his brow furrowing further the longer she went on. Letting his head hit the stone floor of the dungeon, he glared contemptuously up at the ceiling and let out a protracted sigh of frustration


    ¡°Can¡¯t fuckin¡¯ believe this¡­¡± Chad groused, and the woman¡¯s face softened, giving him a sympathetic frown.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, and Chad felt like there was a weight to those words that he just simply didn¡¯t understand. An awkward silence followed for a few moments, and the woman removed her hand from his chest. ¡°There, that should be enough mana for you to move on your own again.¡±


    Sure enough, Chad felt like some of the strength had returned to his muscles as he sat up. He still felt like hammered shit, and he was still hungry. As if reading his mind, the demon woman turned and lifted a large bowl of¡­ meat hunks? And placed it into his lap. The meat wasn¡¯t so much ¡°cooked¡± as ¡°charred,¡± but it still smelled utterly delicious, and Chad could actually feel his mouth watering.


    ¡°This is for me?¡± he asked warily, eyeing the woman. She arched an eyebrow and nodded.


    ¡°Yeah? Better eat up quick, the archbishop will want to talk to you soon, and you¡¯re going to need all the energy you can get for¡­ what comes after,¡± the woman said, looking off to the side. Chad wanted to ask for more details, but he also wanted to just cram as much of this mystery meat in his mouth as possible. Hunger won out, and he picked up one of the chunks, tossing it into his mouth to be shredded by his teeth. The meat was stringy, and really seemed like it had just been held over a fire until it turned black, as there were no hints of any seasonings to be found aside from the natural grease released as he chewed. And yet, it still had a certain¡­ smokiness to it that didn¡¯t seem like it could be natural, or unintentional.


    ¡°Damn, this is pretty good,¡± Chad remarked as he swallowed his first mouthful and reached for another chunk. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Roasted dusk rats,¡± the woman answered, and Chad froze completely, mouth hung open, the chunk of meat still pinched between his fingers.


    Chad thought about jabbing one of his clawed fingers down his throat until he hacked up the bits he¡¯d already eaten. He thought about upending the bowl, and maybe shouting at the woman, demanding she explain why she didn¡¯t tell him it was rat meat before he started eating it.


    In the end, he popped the chunk of meat into his mouth, and started working it between his teeth. He was just¡­ too tired, and sore, and hungry for any of that shit.


    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you can tell me why I¡¯m eating fuckin¡¯ rat meat?¡± Chad asked, not really expecting an answer outside of ¡°It¡¯s a dungeon, what do you expect? A t-bone steak?¡±


    ¡°Dusk rats,¡± the woman reiterated, giving Chad a look and nodding at the bowl. ¡°And you¡¯re eating them because you need to restore your mana, and because dusk rats are the cheapest cuts of meat the archbishop is willing to buy for us that still technically count as monster flesh.¡±


    Chad¡¯s chewing slowed a bit at that, and he glanced down at the bowl once more.


    ¡°You¡¯re tellin¡¯ me this came from monster rats?¡± he asked, unable to suppress a little quiver of genuine curiosity.


    ¡°Yeah? They¡¯re not actual monsters, they¡¯re just pests, like slimes, but they do have way more mana in them than a normal animal,¡± the woman explained, then cocked her head to one side. ¡°Sorry, you seem confused, is this your first time being summoned?¡±


    ¡°Lady,¡± Chad said, grabbing another chunk of magic rat monster meat and tossing it into his mouth. ¡°I got no fuckin¡¯ idea what you¡¯re talking about. I wasn¡¯t summoned anywhere, I just woke up in a crater in a field a few hours ago, and before that I was on a boat, slammin¡¯ beers with my bros and thinkin¡¯ about all the college girls I¡¯d be hookin¡¯ up with next year.¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, and Chad chuckled to himself, shaking his head and reaching for another chunk of meat. Now that he¡¯d gotten used to the taste, they were even easier to scarf down, and with each one he felt more of his energy returning.


    ¡°First of all, I¡¯m not a lady,¡± the woman said, shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m Ruby, and that¡­ I have no idea what most of that meant. If you¡¯ve never been summoned before, but you don¡¯t have any of the usual memories, are you¡­ a new demon?¡±


    Ruby¡¯s eyes widened slightly, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Chad raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth to speak, but she placed her other hand over it to silence him, shaking her head. Chad watched, still chewing, as she seemed to compose herself, and finally spoke again.


    ¡°There¡¯s¡­ something off about you, something strange, but whatever it is, you shouldn¡¯t say any more. Right now, what you¡¯ve said is gibberish, and I can get away with ignoring it, but the archbishop ordered me to tell him if you revealed anything interesting, so don¡¯t tell me anything else about what you do or don''t remember.¡±


    Her tone was serious, but Chad could only raise an eyebrow. He could already tell this archbishop guy was bad news just from the way Ruby talked about him, but couldn¡¯t she just¡­ ignore an order like that? Just tell him she didn¡¯t hear anything?


    Chad glanced again at the heavy collar around her neck.


    Right, he definitely wasn¡¯t sticking around to find out.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Chad said, dragging his finger along the bottom of the bowl to collect some of the grease that had pooled there, licking it off before setting the bowl aside and standing up. Wiping his hands on his pants, he turned towards the door to his cell. ¡°Won¡¯t have to hear anything else from me, because I¡¯m outta¡¯ here.¡±


    ¡°W-wait!¡± Ruby called, scrambling to her feet behind him. ¡°I can¡¯t let you leave!¡±


    ¡°Lady, I know you¡¯re probably in some really fucked up situation, but I won¡¯t hesitate to¡ª¡±


    Just as Chad started to reach out for the iron bars, intent on lighting his hands on fire and seeing if he could melt through them, a shimmering barrier of blue-ish light flickered into existence, shielding that entire wall of the cell.


    Turning back around, Chad found Ruby standing with her arm outstretched, a pained look on her face. Squinting, Chad could see that part of the collar she wore had started glowing. It was an engraving of some kind, and as he got closer, he was able to make out the words.


    I vow to obey any and every order I am given by my pact holder, to the absolute limits of my ability.


    ¡°What the fuck¡­?¡± Chad muttered as the glowing words faded, and Ruby lowered her hand. Behind him, the barrier flickered out, and Ruby let out a sigh.


    ¡°Like I said¡­ I can¡¯t let you leave,¡± Ruby said, meeting Chad¡¯s eyes with her own sad, tired gaze. ¡°I physically can¡¯t allow you to try to leave, nor can I let you take the keys to the cell that I have on me without fighting you to the death to try and stop you. I¡¯ve been ordered.¡± She reached up and cupped the bottom edge of the collar.


    At that point, a dozen snippy remarks jumped to the front of his brain. He could have launched into a rant about how ¡°magic-powered slavery was total bullshit¡± or say something like ¡°of course the church is actually doing a bunch of evil stuff,¡± but everything he wanted to say suddenly seemed not so clever or funny anymore.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Chad muttered lamely, crossing his arms and looking off towards the far side of the cell. ¡°That¡­ sounds like it sucks.¡±


    That didn¡¯t feel like enough, but Chad was dealing with his own pile of shit at the moment, so it was probably the best she was going to get. He wasn¡¯t the most sympathetic guy at the best of times, he knew, and this was way more difficult than trying to figure out what to say when a guy on his football team told him some family member was in the hospital.


    Ruby remained silent, and Chad wondered if he should try saying more, when his avoidant gaze fell upon something in the adjoining cell that caused his hair to stand on end.


    It was another person, sitting with their back to the stone wall, their knees pulled up to their chest and their head buried in their arms. At first, he thought it was a corpse, because their flesh was bone white, but as he walked closer to the wall that separated his cell from theirs, he saw that they also had long, pure white hair as well, that hung in curtains down their back and pooled on the dungeon floor around them. Chad also saw, with a jolt of alarm, that there were piles of actual bones, picked clean and littering the floor of their cell, though thankfully they all appeared to be animal bones.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Chad called out, and the girl raised her head, peering at Chad with bright red eyes and a mask-like face. She looked for only a second, before dropping her face back into her arms.


    ¡°Hey!¡± he tried calling again, but she didn¡¯t move, and he turned back around, finding Ruby looking at him curiously. ¡°Is she another demon or something?¡±


    ¡°Her? No, she¡¯s¡­ another one of the archbishop¡¯s experiments, I think. Before my time,¡± Ruby said, leaning around Chad to look impassively at the girl. ¡°She doesn¡¯t speak, and the only time I ever see her move is to eat. Whatever project she was for, I think it failed.¡±


    ¡°Fuck¡­¡± Chad said, feeling his hands clench into fists. She didn¡¯t even have a bed in there. At least his cell had a rickety-looking cot. He stared at the pale girl until he couldn¡¯t stand it any longer, and spun around, slamming his back into the bars and dropping into a squat.


    He needed a distraction; something else to think about, something else to focus on, before he did something stupid.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Chad said, motioning to Ruby. ¡°Sit down. Talk about something, talk about¡­ where we are. Talk about what a demon is, and what the deal with those cuffs are. Don¡¯t tell it to me, because I already know all that shit, but just talk about it, like you¡¯re alone and talking to yourself.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just do it!¡± Chad snapped, slamming his fist into the cell bars behind him, trying not to think about whether Ruby¡¯s orders meant she would have to stop him if he tried to burn his way through them to get to the pale girl.


    Taken aback, Ruby turned away from him and sat down, facing the door to the cell. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, then cleared her throat, and began speaking to the empty air, like she was delivering a speech.


    ¡°We are¡­ I am currently in the capital city of Lichtford, on the island of Fulgar, home to the royal family of the Fulminous Empire¡­¡±


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    ¡°I think that will be all for now, Brother Eugene,¡± Mandy said, raising a hand and putting a stop to the priest¡¯s impromptu sermon. She¡¯d been sitting perfectly still and listening for so long she felt like she¡¯d nearly forgotten how to move.


    ¡°Mmh? Are you certain, my Lady? I was just¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh yes, quite certain,¡± Mandy hastily cut the man off, rising to her feet. ¡°I would like some time to¡­ digest all that I have heard, and I believe we will be setting off soon as well. You go ahead and meet up with Captain Vittorio, I will join you both on deck soon enough.¡± Mandy ushered the older man first out of his seat, then towards the door out of the captain''s quarters, all the while assuring him that they would speak again soon. All but slamming the door behind him, Mandy slumped against its surface and slid to the ground.


    ¡°Geeeeeeez¡­¡± Mandy groaned into her hands. ¡°I asked the guy for a rundown on scripture, not a laundry list of everything he hates about his shitty little town.¡±


    The conversation had started off fine; Mandy had learned that The Goddess of Love and War was, first off, the actual full name of the goddess, and she didn¡¯t have a ¡°name¡± name, like the other ¡°minor¡± gods. She learned about her somewhat confusing dual nature as a goddess of war and conflict and bloody battles, and also of love and romance and marriage and, most surprisingly to Mandy, sex. She obviously couldn¡¯t ask too many questions during Brother Eugene¡¯s monologue, but she had been able to prod him into explaining that, no, the Goddess of Love and War didn¡¯t have any particular stance on whether guys hooked up with other guys, or girls with other girls.


    ¡°Weird¡­¡± Mandy muttered to herself, then immediately held both hands up. ¡°Not that there¡¯s anything wrong with that! Just didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever hear of a god being so¡­ chill.¡±


    Who was she even talking to? She shook her head. Talking to herself was a bad habit, even if she knew for a fact there wasn¡¯t anybody within earshot. Not even the soldier with the dog ears. That thought brought her back around to what else she¡¯d learned. According to what Brother Eugene had said, humans were the Goddess of Love and War¡¯s personal favorite out of the many, many races across the world of Oceanus, above the elves and orcs and dwarves and trolls and goblins. And especially above the beastkin, who were apparently the result of some kind of magical cataclysm thousands of years in the past, which they were responsible for, which explained his particular attitude towards them, one she assumed was shared by everyone in the Empire to some degree.


    Mandy thought it was a little¡­ weird that a goddess who didn¡¯t seem to care about who fucked who would care about race or species, but she supposed it was also weird she was in charge of both love and war anyway, so¡­


    ¡°Ugh, what else¡­¡± Mandy muttered, scratching at the sides of her head with both hands.


    Oh, right, the way the Empire knew so much about exactly what the Goddess of Love and War wanted: The Empress, and the aspects. The Empire¡¯s royal family had always touted that they were direct blood descendants of the goddess herself, a fact which was proven over six hundred years ago when the current Empress ¡°ascended¡± in a way no member of the family had before or since, and went on to mold the Empire into the unstoppable juggernaut it was today. Since then, every handful of years, new members of the royal family would be declared to be living aspects of the goddess, like what the priest had mistaken for, and between them and the Empress, the Empire had developed their own bespoke understanding of how the goddess wanted the world to operate, which the rest of the world refused to accept. Mandy wanted to ask so much more, but she could tell that whole topic was a potential minefield for her, so she¡¯d just acted completely unphased about the fact that in about a week she¡¯d have to meet a family of aristocratic demigods that regularly gave birth to divine incarnations, and somehow successfully pass herself off as one of them.


    At least she could comfort herself with the fact that she¡¯d have seven days or so to fully prepare.


    And lastly, there were the pirates. The topic Brother Eugene had been stuck on for almost fifteen minutes before she¡¯d cut him off and kicked him out. Apparently, they weren¡¯t just like ordinary Earth pirates, but rather an entire army of bloodthirsty, backstabbing, cowardly sea bandits who¡¯d been a continuous thorn in the Empire¡¯s side for centuries, and they were everywhere. They¡¯d attack Empire ships out of the blue and slaughter their crews, or capture supply ships heading towards other colonies and steal the supplies for themselves.


    ¡°At least that¡¯s normal and easy to understand,¡± Mandy said, pushing herself to her feet. ¡°Still, I wish I¡¯d gotten a bit more about what all they actually believe in. Maybe I¡¯ll try again later, and just hope I can keep him on track better...¡±


    And now she needed to get ready to meet up with Captain Vittorio and Brother Eugene, and stand before the rest of the crew. Mandy had had pre-show jitters plenty of times before, but nothing like this. And yet, the show must go on!


    Ugh.


    Rolling her eyes at her own use of such a clich¨¦d phrase, Mandy turned and scanned the captain''s cabin. Usually, doing her pre-show makeup or going through her other routines was one of the ways she calmed herself down, but that didn''t seem possible in her current condition.


    ¡°Wish I at least had a mirror,¡± Mandy said, sighing and placing a hand on her forehead. Then, she remembered she didn''t need one.


    ¡°Oh, duh,¡± she said, turning to face one of the cabin walls and starting to concentrate. It was difficult, and a little disorienting, to try and narrow her shipwide sight to a single point of view while still seeing out of her projection at the same time, a bit like trying to walk while crossing your eyes. Eventually, she gave up on trying to equally split her attention between the two points, letting most of herself slip back into the boat while maintaining a thin thread of awareness to her body, and what she saw shocked her.


    The young woman staring back at her looked like she''d already gone through an extensive makeup routine. Her face looked brushed smooth and completely free of blemishes, and her steely blue-gray eyes didn¡¯t reflect an ounce of the exhaustion and stress and fear she felt. Her hair, blond with a bit of a natural curl to it, bounced slightly as she moved her head side to side, like it had been freshly washed and styled. She reached up, running her fingers through her hair, and watched as every lock fell back into perfect arrangement, framing her face and highlighting her natural beauty.


    What''s natural about this?


    She dragged a thumb across her lips, and the red color that had appeared on them didn''t so much as smudge. She rubbed at the corners of her eyes, and her eyeliner didn''t budge a single inch. Her brow furrowed. Something she''d been doing a lot, which her mother had warned her away from, telling her it''d give her forehead creases, but looking at her skin now, she couldn''t imagine it ever looking anything but perfect. Except that little spot on her cheek¡­


    Alarmed, she turned her head sharply to the right, reaching up to feel around her left ear. She''d had a miniscule mole there since birth, just ever so slightly too far off her cheek to count as a traditional beauty mark, so she''d always covered it and drawn another on just below her eye.


    Her fingers passed over flawless skin under her ear, and the mark on her cheek seemed to stand out all the more prominently.


    Now that she was aware of it, she searched her face for any more of the other tiny, miniscule imperfections she''d become intimately aware of over the course of a life spent looking at her own reflection, and found none of them.


    As she was still reeling from her discovery, her eyes fell on her clothes, a simple pink crop tee and jeans, which now looked comically plain compared to her almost otherworldly appearance, and she frowned.


    Should''ve worn more red.


    The thought came from¡­ somewhere, and she watched with numb, muted surprise as the hue of her shirt shifted before her very eyes, the pink darkening to a more vibrant, cherry red.


    The young woman¡¯s eyes locked onto the innocuous section of wall through which she was observing herself, and felt a tidal wave of questions crash into her mind.


    Had she done this to herself? How? Could she undo it? How well did she really know her own face, actually? How long would she remember what she was supposed to look like before she started making mistakes? Would she turn to look at herself one day and see a complete stranger? Fuck that, how long was she even supposed to be here? If this was a dream, shouldn''t she wake up soon? Could she even go home?


    On and on the questions came, until Mandy pulled herself even further out of her body, into the ship. She watched, detached, as tears welled up in her own eyes, as her body sank to the floor on her knees, one hand over her mouth and one hand knotted in her perfectly styled hair, letting out choked sobs that even now she struggled to suppress. There was only a thin thread of her awareness still connected to the projection, but through it all those emotions streamed like a raging river. She wanted to go home. She didn¡¯t want to be here, she didn''t want to be a fucking boat, and she didn¡¯t want to have to pretend to be some goddess¡¯ avatar to a bunch of scary weirdos in order to save her life. She wished she weren¡¯t alone, that some of her friends were here with her. She even wished Morgan were here¡ªalthough Mandy was probably the last person she¡¯d ever want to see¡ªbecause she¡¯d probably know what to do.


    She wished¡ª


    There was a soft pair of knocks at the door.


    ¡°Lady Scarlett?¡±


    Mandy¡¯s body jerked, then flickered and disappeared, like a lightbulb going out. Her awareness expanded to cover the entirety of the ship again, and she saw the scrawny dog-eared soldier standing outside the captain¡¯s quarters. A quick check of the upper decks and she saw Brother Eugene and Captain Vittorio standing at the helm, talking quietly, while the rest of the crew were last minute wrap-up on the process of making her ready to sail, checking and rechecking knots all up and down the deck.


    Right, they were all ready to go, and waiting on her.


    With her projection dismissed and her mind back in the ship, Mandy didn¡¯t suddenly stop feeling the overwhelming hurricane of emotions that raged inside her, but now she lacked the faculties for them to manifest through. She tried to take a deep breath, to calm herself, and several of the sailors looked up curiously as the hull of the ship gave an almost imperceptible groan. Several of the long lines of rope that crisscrossed the air between the deck and her masts rocked and swayed, like they were caught in a sudden gust, and down in the captain''s quarters, one of the wooden chairs tipped over and hit the floor.


    Before the dog-man could raise his fist to knock again, the door swung open on its own, and Mandy stepped out, smirking at the surprise evident on the young sailor¡¯s face. Her eyes were no longer red and puffy, and her makeup was once again pristine. Her hair now looked fresh out of the salon, done up in a huge fluffy mass of dramatic curls that bounced like tightly coiled springs as she walked, held out of her eyes by a red band. Her t-shirt and jeans were gone, replaced by a deceptively simple red dress with black trim, narrow shoulders, a high waist, and an ankle-length skirt that was cut and stitched to form natural-looking ruffles that resembled the petals of a rose. Over the dress, she wore a cropped red leather jacket with large gold fastenings, and sleeves that ended just above her elbows. Lastly, she¡¯d upgraded her shoes to a pair of knee-high boots that matched her dress.


    Mandy grinned with satisfaction as the dog-eared man¡¯s jaw actually dropped, but, to his credit, he recovered quickly, snapping to attention and raising his arm to give her the Empire¡¯s version of a salute, holding his fist to the center of his chest, over his heart.


    ¡°L-Lady Scarlett,¡± the young man stammered. ¡°They¡¯re ready for you on deck!¡±


    ¡°Ah, my apologies,¡± Mandy said as she emerged fully into the small sitting room that separated the captain¡¯s quarters from the main deck, the door closing itself behind her. ¡°I just finished getting myself ready. Lead the way¡­ ah, I don¡¯t believe I caught your name?¡±


    ¡°Chase! Private Chase!¡± he announced with obvious over-eagerness. Mandy thought she even saw his tail start to twitch.


    ¡°Chase? Is that your first name, or your last name?¡± Mandy asked curiously, and Chase¡¯s enthusiasm flagged noticeably, one of his ears listing to the side.


    ¡°It¡¯s, uh, just Chase, my lady,¡± Chase said, shaking his head. ¡°Haven¡¯t got a family name, on account of I haven¡¯t got a family, really.¡±


    Around them, the hull of the ship creaked, like an old house settling in the night. Mandy maintained her pleasant, mildly-surprised smile.


    ¡°I see,¡± she said, reaching out to lightly tap the arm he still had raised in salute, urging him to finally lower it. ¡°Well, Chase, would you please lead the way?¡±


    Swallowing audibly, Chase nodded and turned, marching stiffly towards the set of double doors that opened out onto the main deck. Mandy squared her shoulders, raised her head high, and followed him out, satisfied by the sound of her new boots upon the floorboards. She let Chase open the doors, then smiled at him as he stood aside to let her out first.


    Nice to know someone on this ship knows how to treat a lady.


    Emerging out into the early morning sunlight, Mandy shielded her eyes (unnecessarily) while the assembled rows of sailors in red saluted her. Oh yes, this she could get used to.


    Mandy turned and ascended up one of two slightly curled staircases that led up to the helm, where Captain Vittorio and Brother Eugene waited, along with a few more of the rank and file soldiers.


    ¡°Sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen,¡± Mandy said brightly, savoring the appraising looks she got from the pair.


    ¡°Not at all,¡± Brother Eugene fawned, somewhat predictably, bowing his head to her. ¡°And might I say, your new attire cuts a very¡­ striking figure, wouldn''t you agree, Captain?¡±


    ¡°It''s certainly an upgrade from that odd garb you appeared in,¡± Captain Vittorio said, his tone neutral. Mandy felt like that was definitely progress, and gave the captain a smile.


    ¡°Thank you, Captain, Brother Eugene,¡± Mandy said, turning towards the lower deck, crossing her arms behind her back. ¡°Well, I''m ready to go whenever you are.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I should entreat the goddess for a blessing,¡± Brother Eugene offered, stepping forward and raising a hand. ¡°As is customary at the start of a journey.¡±


    ¡°With all due respect, Brother Eugene,¡± Mandy said, turning and giving the man a smirk. ¡°I don''t think this boat can get any more blessed.¡±


    While the priest looked on in bewilderment, Captain Vittorio let out a sudden bark of laughter, stepping towards the railing that overlooked the deck.


    ¡°On that, we agree, Lady Scarlett,¡± Captain Vittorio said over his shoulder, chuckling once more before hardening his face into a stone mask of professionalism and facing the patiently waiting sailors. ¡°All hands! Attention!¡±


    The twin rows of soldiers all turned in unison towards the helm, thumping their fists against their chests in another salute. Only with the help of her omnidirectional vision of anything aboard was Mandy able to see the smile that played across Captain Vittorio¡¯s face at the sight.


    ¡°Cast off the mooring lines, and set those sails. Tide mages, take your positions, I want us out of the bay and on our way up the coast within the hour!¡±


    With a collective chorus of ¡°Aye-aye, sir!¡± the assembled soldiers exploded into action, and Mandy looked on in genuine awe as a dozen tasks were carried out in a perfectly choreographed sequence. The ropes that kept her secured in place were loosened and tossed back onto the dock, and a quartet of soldiers whose uniforms were differentiated from the others by the addition of some blue trim around the sleeves and collar took up positions at the furthest four corners of the ship, two in the front and two up in the helm with Mandy and the others.


    A chorus of call and returns were exchanged between the captain, an officer down on the deck, and the rest of the crew, but Mandy¡¯s ears only perked up when Captain Vittorio turned to his left, addressing one of the ¡°tidal mages.¡±


    ¡°Begin casting. Guide us out slowly until we get clear of the lighthouse.¡±


    ¡°Aye, sir,¡± the other man said, holding one of his hands into the air and lifting a metal whistle to his mouth. He blew two sharp tweets and the other three mages raised their hands, and the first man shouted, ¡°Mages, ready! And¡­ cast!¡±


    Another blast of the whistle and, in unison, all four of them called out the words ¡°Tide Control!¡± and thrust their hands out over the railing.


    Before Mandy could think about asking what was happening, she felt the water move beneath her, shifting and pulling, lifting her slightly and sending her gliding out of her space between the docks. It was¡­ dizzying, and distinctly odd, to feel her body, her real body, being moved and manipulated entirely on someone else¡¯s power, or in this case several someones. In an inversion of her earlier situation, Mandy had to pool all but the bare minimum of her attention into her projection in order to not get lost in the whirlwind of activity going on aboard her. That only made her more aware of how her heartbeat was quickening, becoming faster and faster as they neared the exit of the bay.


    ¡°Are you alright, Lady Scarlett?¡± Brother Eugene asked.


    ¡°Ah¡­ uh, yes, captain, I¡¯m¡­¡± Mandy trailed off. The lead mage had placed the whistle in his mouth again, and before she found her words again, he blew three long notes.


    On cue, the first of her sails were unfurled, and Mandy felt her breath hitch as they immediately caught the wind blowing in from the south. The canvas billowed, and to Mandy it felt like taking the biggest, deepest breath of her life. The ship lurched, and she could feel herself picking up speed. Again, her projection winked out, and suddenly all Mandy could feel was the sensation of her body slicing through the water, and her momentum building as more of her sails were let out to catch more of the wind, driving her forward faster and faster.


    In that moment, Mandy forgot to feel anything but pure and undiluted elation, as if she had simply outrun all her anxieties and fears. She could still feel them, of course, trailing behind in her wake, and knew they would eventually catch up with her again, but for now¡­


    For now, nothing could catch her.


    When Mandy finally rematerialized up in the helm, the sun had moved a significant distance across the sky, and now hung almost directly overhead, the coastal town they¡¯d set sail from nowhere in sight.


    ¡°Hoo¡­¡± Mandy took in a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly, standing on the deck with her hands on her hips, just taking a moment to reacquaint herself with being a person, with arms and legs and a face, instead of just a boat going really really fast. She¡¯d heard about ¡°runner''s high¡±¡ªa sense of euphoria that comes after intense exercise¡ªbefore, mostly from Chad or Morgan, and imagined what she was feeling now was something similar, but multiplied by, like, a hundred.


    ¡°Welcome back, my lady,¡± Captain Vittorio remarked from his position behind the wheel, and Mandy turned to him, unable to hide an exuberant smile.


    ¡°I never left, captain,¡± Mandy said, taking in another deep breath and letting out a satisfied sigh. ¡°I just wanted to be able to fully appreciate the voyage for a bit. It is¡­ quite spectacular.¡±


    ¡°I can only imagine,¡± Captain Vittorio said with a wry chuckle. ¡°For a sailor, there is no feeling quite like the wind in one¡¯s hair and the spray on one¡¯s face. I¡¯ve always appreciated the sensation of speed, and the sense of freedom that comes from having the horizon stretching out before me, but to actually be the vessel must be something else entirely.¡±


    ¡°Yes! Freedom! That¡¯s exactly what it feels like!¡± Mandy said, clenching her hands into fists in front of her and actually laughing. She thought she knew what freedom felt like before, like the birthday when she¡¯d gotten her first car (and after she finally passed her driving test) but cruising around her small slice of suburbia with the top down couldn¡¯t hold a candle to what she¡¯d spent the last few hours experiencing. When she first heard that their trip to the capital would take a whole week, Mandy had been dreading being utterly bored the entire way. Silly, she knew, when she¡¯d woken up in a bizarre, unfamiliar world out of some fantasy book as some kind of sapient boat, but she¡¯d worried nonetheless. Now, she was almost wishing the trip were a little longer, just so she could enjoy this carefree feeling for as long as possible before having to stop and dock and meet a bunch of royal brats who would probably see through her deception immediately.


    Shoving those thoughts off to the far corners of her mind, Mandy cleared her throat and stepped up to the railing, gazing at the distant landmass and the coastline that they were currently following.


    ¡°So, how far have we made it, would you say?¡± Mandy asked while taking in the view. She hadn''t exactly been blind while she was relishing the sense of speed, but her vision had been¡­ narrowed, caring only for what was directly ahead of her. Now, she intended to fully appreciate the view.


    ¡°We''ve been keeping a steady pace since we left Strom¡¯s Landing, about three hours ago,¡± Captain Vittorio said, glancing down at what Mandy would have called a pocket watch, if it weren¡¯t the size of a CD player. She reeled slightly at just how much time she¡¯d lost, although she didn''t let it show on her face. ¡°Considering the¡­ your top speed, we should be two dozen miles out by now, give or take.¡±


    ¡°And how far is it to the capital?¡± Mandy asked, looking back over her shoulder.


    ¡°It varies, depending on Fulgar''s movement,¡± Captain Vittorio said. ¡°At full length, Strom¡¯s Landing is about a thousand nautical miles from the capital, but fortunately for us, she''s just begun to turn southward again, which means we''ll actually be heading towards each other. Might shave even more time than I thought off my estimates.¡±


    Mandy nodded along, not letting her confusion show. She could understand, individually, every word that the captain had said, but some of those statements didn''t make sense. Fulgar was the island, she knew that, but it had¡­ turned? And it was heading towards them? Was the island actually mobile in some way or was this the captain trying to trick her? That probably warranted looking into later.


    Turning back to the coastline, Mandy let her elbows rest on the railing. The scenery really was magnificent; she could see a small town, or perhaps a large village, built up along the shoreline and sprawling out into the lush countryside behind it. She could make out farmlands, and forests beyond, and an undulating crest of mountains that seemed to stretch on forever in both directions, as far as Mandy could see.


    At the sound of boots on the stairs, Mandy turned, although she already knew who was coming. It was one of the four soldiers with blue-trimmed uniforms, one of the ¡°mages.¡±


    ¡°Captain,¡± the soldier said by way of greeting, stepping off the landing and giving a salute. When she spotted Mandy there, she turned and inclined her head towards her as well. ¡°Lady Scarlett. Lieutenant Cooper, reporting.¡±


    ¡°At ease, Lieutenant,¡± Captain Vittorio said, and the woman¡¯s stance relaxed fractionally. ¡°Report.¡±


    ¡°Aye sir. Reporting mana reserves of myself and the other casters fully replenished, ahead of schedule,¡± the woman explained, her delivery steady and efficient. ¡°Dietrich suspects it may be a result of some¡±¡ªher eyes flicked briefly over to Mandy, then back again¡ª¡°unique properties the ship has gained as a result of the blessing.¡±


    ¡°Interesting, but not surprising,¡± Captain Vittorio said, also giving Mandy a much less subtle glance. ¡°I assume there¡¯s no danger to yourselves or the rest of us aboard?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll need a bit more time to study the phenomenon more thoroughly, but early tests point to that being the case, yes,¡± Cooper said. ¡°It¡¯s not like a wound or a mana storm; the ship isn¡¯t pelting us with highly concentrated ambient mana, so there¡¯s no danger of mana sickness. Rather, some mechanism of being in contact with the ship itself seems to accelerate natural mana regeneration.¡±


    ¡°Mmh, I see. Keep me updated as you learn more,¡± Captain Vittorio said, a thoughtful look in his eye. ¡°Dismissed.¡±


    Cooper nodded and turned on her heels, but Mandy spoke up before she could start back down the stairs.


    ¡°So you¡¯re a ¡®mage,¡¯ huh?¡± she asked, and Cooper froze in her tracks. Turning back around, she glanced nervously at Captain Vittorio, before turning to Mandy and nodding her head.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct, my lady,¡± Cooper said, once again standing stiff and straight, like her spine had been replaced by a metal pole. ¡°But I assure you, my allegiance has always and will always be to the Empire.¡±


    Hmm. There was definitely some context behind that assurance that Mandy wasn¡¯t getting, but she thought she might be able to draw it.


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Mandy asked, leaning ever so slightly harder on the last word while tilting her head a few degrees to the side, and giving the woman a tiny little smile.


    It worked even better than she could¡¯ve imagined, as Cooper actually took a step back, catching herself and snapping back to attention, slamming her fist against her chest in salute.


    ¡°Y-yes, my lady! I swear it! I learned everything I know from my instructors and official Empire-sanctioned sources! I would sooner die than cast heretical magics!¡±


    ¡°Easy, easy,¡± Mandy said, raising her hands and patting the air like she was putting out a fire. ¡°I wasn¡¯t questioning your loyalty, I was merely curious. I¡¯ve never actually met a mage, you understand?¡±


    That seemed to calm Lieutenant Cooper somewhat, and though she didn¡¯t stop looking like a deer in headlights, she did nod and step forward again, returning to her equivalent of ¡°relaxed.¡±


    ¡°My apologies, Lady Scarlett. Myself and the other mages would be happy to answer any questions you have,¡± Cooper said stiffly, and Mandy gave her a much less loaded smile.


    ¡°I will definitely take you up on that sometime,¡± Mandy said, crossing her arms behind her back again. It really was such a powerful way to stand, she couldn¡¯t get enough of it. ¡°But I understand you¡¯ve got work to get back to now, so I won¡¯t keep you any longer. On your way, then.¡±


    ¡°T-thank you, my lady,¡± Cooper said with obvious relief. She bowed her head, saluted, and turned back to the stairs, taking them with a little more haste than Mandy suspected she usually would. She watched her go for a moment, until Captain Vittorio let out a low chuckle, and she turned to look at him.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive the crew if they remain jumpy around you for the duration of the trip,¡± Captain Vittorio said, glancing at his not-pocket-watch and making some minor adjustment to the wheel. ¡°For most of them, having you around must feel like having a member of the royal family turn up for dinner unannounced. Myself included, I must admit. I know you instructed me to not treat you so formally, but it is difficult not to be¡­ in awe of your presence, my lady.¡±


    ¡°You flatter me, Captain,¡± Mandy said, raising a hand to her mouth and letting out a demure giggle. ¡°It is not my intention to frighten your crew. Quite the opposite, in fact. If possible, I would like to spend some time during the trip getting to know them better, so that they may come to see me as a¡­ comforting presence, rather than an unsettling one.¡±


    Mandy still didn¡¯t know what awaited her in the capital, but she would feel better about facing it with a whole crew of people already won over to her side at her back.


    (Continued in Part 2)

 Making a Splash - Chapter 1.14.2 (Mandy/Chad)

    (Continued from Part 1)


    ¡°In fact,¡± Mandy continued, approaching the stairs and resting a hand on top of the banister. ¡°I think I''ll get started on that now, if you don''t mind. Give a shout if you need anything, Captain, though I can''t imagine you will.¡±


    ¡°Ah, as you wish, my lady,¡± Captain Vittorio said, then after a moment''s hesitation, added, ¡°Just¡­ try not to interfere with the on-duty crew too much, if you please.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn''t dream of it,¡± Mandy said with a laugh, stepping down onto the stairs and descending slowly but deliberately towards the deck, leaving the captain to¡­ whatever it was he was doing. As requested, she did not approach the batch of soldiers who were currently up on deck, working the lines or keeping watch, or¡­ yeah, Mandy actually had no clue what any of them were doing. She might''ve felt a bit peeved that becoming a boat didn''t grant her an instant understanding of everything to do with how a boat was supposed to work, but on the other hand, she also didn''t actually want a load of trivia about knots and ropes and¡­ stuff just shoved into her head.


    Bypassing the hard-at-work soldiers, Mandy took another set of stairs in the middle of the deck and descended further, disappearing into the ship''s interior. She hadn¡¯t been lying to the captain; she did plan to make strides in dispelling some (but not all) of the crew¡¯s fear of her over the course of the trip, but there was one crew member in particular that she had pegged as the perfect place to start building a foundation from. She just needed to wait for the right opportunity, and as luck would have it, one such opportunity she¡¯d been keeping an eye out for had just presented itself.


    Down in the¡­ she wasn''t sure what that room was called, either; it was probably for eating, if she had to guess, because of the squat and sturdy benches, and the way it was placed adjacent to the surprisingly well-stocked kitchen she had. Either way, that was where many of the crew who weren''t using their free time to sleep were currently gathered, including the group of four who she had seen urging Chase to spy on Captain Vittorio and Brother Eugene¡¯s discussion earlier. They had pulled up at one of the bench tables and were preparing to play some kind of card game, and even now they were trying to pester Chase into joining them.


    ¡°Chase, pal, c¡¯mon,¡± said the one who seemed to be the ringleader, a tall man with sandy-blond hair, a thick neck, and ridiculously broad shoulders. His companions; a woman with a close cropped mess of curly black hair, a shorter man with a mustache bushy enough to obscure most of his mouth, and a brown-haired man with a narrow face, had also been pelting their fellow soldier with a half-dozen other combinations of the words ¡°Pal¡± and ¡°C¡¯mon¡± for the past minute as well.


    ¡°I-I don''t know, Beckert¡­¡± Chase mumbled, tugging at the neck of his uniform, the only one amongst the group of off-duty sailors that was still buttoned up. Mandy didn''t know exactly how these ¡°beastkin¡± were supposed to work, but she was pretty sure Chase¡¯s ears being pulled back that far meant the same thing on him as it meant on her family''s dogs. There was no telling if the others were unaware, or simply uncaring, of their meaning.


    ¡°Maybe just one?¡± Chase said hopefully, and Mandy sighed and shook her head.


    ¡°Classic mistake,¡± she said to herself, leaning her back against the wall just outside the¡­ mess hall? That sounded right. ¡°Now they''ve got you.¡±


    ¡°Sure! Just one quick hand,¡± the leader, Beckert, lied smoothly, putting on a charming smile and casting each of his compatriots a knowing glance. Mandy had to hand it to him, he knew what he was doing.


    ¡°A-alright,¡± Chase said, rising from the bench he''d been sitting on and taking one of the open spots, beside the black haired woman. Beckert grinned, and began to shuffle the deck of cards he¡¯d produced.


    ¡°Alright lads and lasses, you all know the rules, let¡¯s see some sterling on the table,¡± he said, and his three companions reached into their coats, pulling out several palmfuls of silver coins and stacking them up in front of themselves. Chase nibbled on his lower lip before following suit, producing a small collection of coins and placing them in two neat stacks in front of him. Mandy could now see that there seemed to be two variants of the same coin; the smaller ones, which featured the image of a single spear on one side, and the larger, thicker coins that showed five spears.


    ¡°One spear to open,¡± the large man said, pulling out his own money and placing a single coin in the center of the table. Again, the others all followed along, and Chase spent an extra moment hesitating before doing the same.


    What happened next was so predictable that Mandy could have bet on it, if she had any money herself. The cards were dealt out, and though the suits were unrecognizable (roses, crows, blades, and bolts), and there seemed to be five face cards instead of three (thief, knight, duke, empress, and goddess), it resembled poker close enough that she could still follow what was happening. The players studied their hands, and Mandy studied the players. Chase¡¯s face remained impassive as he looked at his cards, but one of his ears twitched. When it was his turn, he discarded two cards that didn¡¯t match the suit of the other three he held, and got back two that did. If Mandy couldn¡¯t already guess that was good, the fact that Chase¡¯s tail started to twitch behind him would¡¯ve tipped her off.


    ¡°Three spears,¡± Chase said, his tone casual and his face flat, while behind him his tail waved like a big, stupid, fluffy flag, and Mandy slapped a hand to her forehead.


    Of course, the others all folded quickly, and a new hand began, with the others congratulating him for the win and, of course, encouraging him to go just once more. Which, of course, he agreed to.


    Mandy could only watch with growing disbelief as the group of four read Chase like the open book he was, folding whenever his tail gave away how good his hand was, and calling his every bluff, slowly and steadily shrinking the pile of coins in front of him. It was only when he was down to his last large coin, (or ¡°volley¡± as the sailors called them), and his ears were almost perpetually drooping, that Mandy finally moved to the doorway and stepped into the mess hall.


    ¡°I think I should¡­ oh, uh, good afternoon, Lady Scarlett!¡± Chase, who had already begun to stand up, jumped to his feet and shot her another chest pounding salute, both his ears and tail standing at attention with him. The others simply turned in their seats to observe her curiously.


    ¡°Chase, please, sit down, I was just passing through,¡± Mandy said with a casual wave of her hand, approaching the bench and putting on a wide smile. ¡°Oh, are you five in the middle of a game?¡±


    ¡°Aye, that we are, my lady,¡± Beckert said, seeming a little thrown off by her presence. His companions glanced to him for direction, and after a split second, he seemed to come to a decision, and gave her his most charming smile. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you know how to play ¡®ambition,¡¯ do you?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say that I do,¡± Mandy said, shaking her head while maintaining her smile. ¡°Would you be willing to teach me?¡±


    ¡°Certainly!¡± Beckert said, and Mandy stepped closer to the bench, taking the space between Chase and the other woman. ¡°Though, you¡¯ll have to promise not to use any of your godly powers to cheat or anything,¡± he said with a chuckle while he shuffled the deck.


    Oh, the nerve of this guy! Mandy smiled back at him, wide and bright, and brought up a hand to giggle into it. Damn, she wondered if she could conjure up one of those little folding fans for herself, that would really enhance some of her moves.


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± she said, waving her other hand in the air. ¡°I may be an aspect of the goddess, but I¡¯m hardly omniscient. But, if it would make you feel better¡­¡± Mandy held her hand up, palm out, then placed it over her heart. ¡°I swear, by the goddess herself, that I will use only the abilities of my mortal body to play this game.¡±


    Beckert put on a show of thinking it over, but she could tell from the greedy gleam in his eyes that he had swallowed her innocent, naive noble act, hook, line, and sinker. As far as she was concerned, anyone who bought a story like that from her deserved what was coming next.


    ¡°Y¡¯sure about this, Beck?¡± the woman, whose name Mandy had picked up from conversation was Marit, asked with a hint of worry.


    ¡°¡®Course I am, Mare,¡± Beckert said, grinning, and Mandy even saw him prod the woman¡¯s leg beneath the table. ¡°She¡¯s new to the mortal realm, what¡¯s the harm in showin¡¯ her a little fun?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re happy to have ya, Lady Scarlett,¡± the short man with the moustache, who the others called Vester, piped up, elbowing the taller man with the thin face. ¡°Me an¡¯ Hugo will even go easy on ya!¡±


    They all laughed, and Mandy laughed along, before turning to Chase, the only one who wasn¡¯t laughing. ¡°Oh, but I am afraid I don¡¯t have any coin of my own to play with,¡± she said, reaching over and tapping the last large silver coin he had left in front of him. ¡°Chase, would you mind if I borrowed this? I¡¯ll pay it back, I promise!¡±


    Of course, she knew that whether or not he did mind, he probably wouldn¡¯t stop her if she simply scooped up the coin, which she did, all while he struggled to get his tongue to work. Turning to Marit, she held up the coin.


    ¡°Could you break this down for me?¡± she asked sweetly, and the other woman shrugged, taking the coin and handing her four of the smaller coins.


    Hold on¡­ one volley is only worth four spears? Then why the fuck are there five spears in the picture? Who designed these coins?


    Hiding her consternation, Mandy laid out the four coins in front of her and turned to grin up at Chase, who seemed to have given up on answering her and just sat beside her quietly with his ears hanging low and his tail brushing the floor.


    It seemed like even he thought she was doomed to lose that money just as fast as he was.


    Excellent.


    ¡°All set?¡± Beckert asked, and Mandy smiled and nodded. ¡°Good. Now, listen up. I¡¯ll go over the rules once, then we can play a few practice hands.¡±


    ¡°Wonderful,¡± Mandy said, clapping her hands once and settling in to listen as the rules she had already mostly grasped were laid out in front of her. It was, as she suspected, basically a form of poker, with players making sets out of five card hands, being able to discard as many as they wanted once before their final bets. As usual, certain hands were worth more than others, and it seemed mostly straightforward. The only thing Mandy would have to keep in mind were that some specific hands had deceptively higher values than it seemed like they should, based on special and, in some cases, completely arcane circumstances, like three thieves being able to beat three knights if either hand had the moon card in it, unless one of the knights was the knight of bolts. It sounded stupid, and complicated to keep straight, but it wasn¡¯t like she was playing for fun.


    Just like Beckert, Mandy preferred to only gamble when she knew she was going to win.


    The practice hand commenced, and Mandy received her five cards. She didn¡¯t spend too long looking at them, nor did she let Chase catch even a glimpse of them, not that it mattered. Either way, the others let her win most of the practice hands, as expected, and then the real game began.


    Over the course of the next hour, Mandy proceeded to collect back not just the coins that Chase had lost, but also take a significant bite out of all four of the other players¡¯ fortunes, all while never breaking ¡°character.¡± She continued to furrow her brow and look mildly confused hand after hand, sometimes even asking aloud for Beckert or one of the others to repeat part of the rules, and lost just enough hands to make her wins seem like pure luck, but would always come back again whenever one of the sailors dared to get cocky and raise with a hand they presumed to be a guaranteed winner, only for her to reveal something that beat it flat out.


    Between her ability to see literally all the cards in play, and being able to control her projected body well enough that any tells she might show were purely fabricated, it was like taking candy from a bunch of babies.


    ¡°I can see why you mortals enjoy this game so much,¡± Mandy said after the last hand, in which she¡¯d bluffed Beckert into folding a ridiculously good hand while holding absolutely nothing of value in her own. She added the pot to the small wall of coins she had amassed while giggling. ¡°It¡¯s so fun!¡±


    ¡°Mmh¡­ aye, that it is¡­¡± Beckert said, not even bothering to hide how sullen he was about how much he¡¯d lost. His hands even appeared to be shaking as he started to shuffle the deck again. ¡°Another hand, then?¡±


    ¡°Mmmh, I think I ought to get back to work now, actually,¡± Mandy said with a polite smile, rising up from the bench, and Beckert¡¯s hands slipped, causing the deck to spill out onto the table. The other three let out equally desperate cries of ¡°No!¡± and ¡°Wait!¡± but she ignored them completely as she scooped their coins into her, apparently, very real and very solid pockets.


    ¡°Oh, and before I forget,¡± she said, turning to Chase and holding out two of the larger silver coins. ¡°Thank you for loaning me the money, Chase, here you go. You hold onto that now.¡±


    With that, she turned, and practically floated out of the room while humming a cheerful tune, leaving behind four baffled and likely furious soldiers, and one significantly less-downtrodden dog boy. Retreating to the captain''s quarters, thankfully still bereft of Brother Eugene, she put her hands on her hips and let out a sigh.


    ¡°Ah¡­ it feels nice to do a good deed every now and then,¡± she said, chuckling and reaching into her pockets for one of the silver coins, giving it a quick flip and catching it out of the air. ¡°Though, I have no idea what I¡¯m gonna do with all this¡­ can I even¡­¡±


    Experimentally, she let her projection flicker out.


    A large pile of silver coins hung suspended in the air for a split second, before they all clattered to the floor of the ship like a load of dropped silverware, landing in a messy heap.


    Right¡­ okay, well, let¡¯s pick those up and then find someplace to store them¡­


    ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö ¡ö


    Chad sat with his back to the cell bars, brooding and seething, and listened to Ruby¡¯s aimless account of this so-called Empire. He had to admit, it did blow a lot of his expectations out of the water. For starters, the big bad guy in charge was actually a big bad lady; the Empress, and if Ruby¡¯s explanation was accurate, she was immortal, and had been the head honcho for the past six hundred years or so. Chad had his doubts about how true that was, suspecting there could be any number of propaganda and tricks at play to just make it seem like the same lady had been around for six centuries, but he also wasn¡¯t ready to discount it entirely.


    He was stuck in a dungeon, listening to a demon, after all.


    As he¡¯d already gotten a glimpse of earlier, the Empire wasn¡¯t fond of basically anyone who wasn¡¯t human, since they believed their Empress and her family were descended from a ¡°Goddess of Love and War,¡± who liked humans more than anyone else. That, especially, set off Chad¡¯s bullshit meter, though whether he thought it was bullshit, or just hoped it was bullshit, he couldn¡¯t say. Predictably, in a world brimming with loads of other races that weren¡¯t humans, the nation that tried to claim humans were the best didn¡¯t have many allies. They somehow had positive relations with several major elven families despite their apparent beliefs about elves, and also what sounded like a more practical, arms-length trade relationship with some other nation called ¡°Yuusha.¡±


    The fact that they didn¡¯t just have zero allies was disappointing, but not that surprising.


    Either way, this still meant that the Empire was in a constant state of expansion and low-level conflict. Which, in turn, meant they had poured loads of time and resources into developing their navy and military into a force to be reckoned with, and were constantly searching for new avenues to even greater power, like undiscovered forms of magic, experimental alchemy, or¡­


    ¡°Demons,¡± Ruby said, pausing to catch her breath for a moment, lowering her head and looking down at her own hands, fidgeting in her lap. ¡°If you believe the talk, the Empire are actually the ones who first rediscovered the ancient records that pointed to the existence of demons, and first learned how to summon them, though the techniques have since been leaked to the wider world.¡± She paused, holding one of her four-fingered hands up over her head, turning it slowly, examining it.


    ¡°Demons are, more than any other living creature, beings of mana. We¡¯re summoned from the Abyss, a plane made entirely of pure mana, a¡­ chaotic, shitty place where nothing is concrete, and just maintaining the same physical form takes constant concentration. Losing that concentration means¡­ losing yourself, melting back into the ambient mana and coming back different, as someone different, with different memories, or no memories at all. Except for one, the one memory all demons share, no matter how freshly spawned they are; the memory that the mortal plane exists, and you want to go back to it, you must go back to it.¡±


    ¡°Geez¡­¡± Chad said. It was the first thing he¡¯d said in almost ten minutes, and it caused Ruby to jump slightly and turn to look at him.


    ¡°Eh, sorry,¡± he said, waving his hand. ¡°Go on, talk about, uh¡­¡± He held up the hand he¡¯d been waving, his right hand, and the unsettlingly-easy-to-forget shackle that hugged his wrist, tapping it with a finger.


    Ruby continued to stare at him for a moment, then sighed, turning her body so she was sitting facing him.


    ¡°It¡¯s called a tether, or sometimes an anchor,¡± Ruby said, holding up one of her own arms and tracing one of her shackles with a finger. ¡°All demons have them, and they help us maintain a foothold here in the mortal plane. They also¡­ allow you to establish a pact with a mortal.¡±


    ¡°Like a contract?¡± Chad asked, since it seemed like they were just giving up the notion of not having her talk to him directly and not having him reveal the true depths of his ignorance to her.


    ¡°Under¡­ ideal circumstances, yes,¡± Ruby said, turning her head to the side. ¡°When done correctly, forming a pact with a mortal benefits both sides equally. The warlock gets increased power, and an overly abundant source of mana, as long as they keep us fed, and we gain an even firmer hold on the mortal plane, and more fine control over our own magic. And, you know, a partner. Someone to watch our backs, who actually has a vested interest in our wellbeing.¡±


    ¡°That sounds¡­ better, I guess,¡± Chad said hesitantly. It was clear from the somewhat wistful look in Ruby¡¯s eyes that she would have liked nothing more than to have a pact like that, but to Chad it didn¡¯t sound like anything more than unnecessarily tying himself to someone else, to have to depend on them instead of just getting by with his own two fists.


    Just like a man ought to, the voice of his father chimed in his head, and Chad scowled inwardly.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing the Empire found a way to fuck that up, huh?¡± Chad asked sourly, motioning towards the quartet of shackles on Ruby¡¯s wrists and ankles.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Ruby said with a bitter chuckle. ¡°Ordinarily, the only way a pact can be established is by the demon initiating it. There¡¯s no way for a mage to force the process to start from the other end, meaning only when the demon chooses to offer it can the pact be formed. Any attempt to use violence or torture to coerce a demon to do something they don¡¯t want to would just result in the demon¡¯s body giving out and dissolving back into mana, and their spirit returning to the Abyss. You can¡¯t even reliably imprison a demon because they can just burn up all their mana and dissolve themselves, like what you nearly did.¡±


    Chad found himself sitting up straight as Ruby went on, and despite his own inner heat staving off the dungeon¡¯s chill, he felt goosebumps start to rise on his skin. He was pretty sure he already knew where this was going, and though he would have liked to be wrong for once, he wasn¡¯t holding out hope for it.


    ¡°They figured out a way around that, huh?¡± he asked, and Ruby cocked her head at him, all three eyes narrowing slightly.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°Yeah, they did. Don¡¯t ask me how, I still don¡¯t know anything about mortal magic, but they¡­ did something to the summoning ritual, adding some kind of barrier to it. Once they bring a demon over, they can activate it, and it acts like another tether, keeping you anchored to this plane, and then they just¡­ wait.¡± Ruby¡¯s head lowered, her shoulders sagging, and she stared down at her hands again. ¡°You can throw everything you have at the barrier, and it won¡¯t ever budge, in fact they probably hope you do exactly that, because it means it¡¯ll be over quicker.¡± Slowly, her hands curled into fists, and her breathing became heavier. ¡°Because as long as they keep that ritual powered, you can¡¯t escape back to the Abyss. It feeds you mana from the outside, but only a tiny trickle, so once you do use up the last of your reserves, and the hunger pains kick in, there¡¯s nothing you can do but writhe in agony until the mage comes and offers you a deal: establish a pact, with as many rules and stipulations as they want, and they¡¯ll let you out. Refuse, and you get to see which runs out first; your resolve, or your summoner¡¯s funds¡­¡±


    Ruby trailed off, and Chad got the implication. He imagined anyone willing to do¡­ that would not go into it unprepared to spend as much as it took to get their hands on a demon. He didn¡¯t have the first clue how expensive it might be to perform a ¡°ritual¡± like that, but he imagined the value was less than that of acquiring a powerful magic servant that literally couldn¡¯t disobey orders.


    ¡°God damn, that''s¡­ that''s fucked,¡± Chad said, again feeling like he was vastly underselling it. ¡°Is that why you''ve got all those¡­¡±


    Ruby let out a subdued laugh and held up her arm again.


    ¡°That''s right. Just like the rest of our bodies, our tethers are made partially of pure mana, so their forms are malleable and respond to our emotions,¡± she explained, shaking her wrist back and forth. ¡°The more restrictive the pact, the more trapped you feel, the more they resemble fetters and bonds. I''ve heard from demons who got summoned outside the Empire, with more fair pacts, that theirs took the forms of rings or bracelets or necklaces.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­¡± Chad looked down at the shackle clamped around his own wrist. However he''d ended up here, he hadn''t been summoned, and he definitely hadn''t made a pact, so was this just the default look? Or had its form been chosen for him? He didn''t think Ruby could answer that one for him. She said it could change based on how he felt, so could he just¡­ feel his way to something less¡­


    ¡°Wait,¡± Chad said, lifting his head and raising his eyebrows. ¡°Did you say your bodies are malleable?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Yeah?¡± Ruby shook her head. ¡°It''s not instant, we''re not like mimics, but we are capable of shape-shifting, up to a point.¡± A small smile appeared on her face. ¡°It¡¯s actually one of the best parts of being in the mortal realm, if you ask me; being in control of your form, without having to worry about it changing on you when you¡¯re not looking. It can be hard to explain to non-demons what it means to not take solidity for granted. Even after¡­ everything that¡¯s happened, not having to worry about coming apart in your sleep can sometimes feel like the one spot of light in a very dark cave.¡±


    Chad wasn¡¯t so sure about that, but then again, technically he was a non-demon, he just happened to look like one, and he had no clue just how bad this Abyss place was. For it to be so bad that the alternative¡ªbeing magically tortured into a one sided contract¡ªwas somehow preferable made Chad all the more eager to never experience it for himself. There was just one thing he still needed to know.


    ¡°So, how do we do it? Shape-shift, I mean,¡± he asked, trying not to sound too eager. He must not have done a very good job, because Ruby¡¯s smile widened at him.


    ¡°You just need to hold a clear vision in your head of the changes you want to make, then focus and try to feed your mana into it. It takes time, of course, and you have to hold that clear vision of the form you want in your mind over the course of however many days or weeks it takes, but it should come intuitively, once you start.¡±


    ¡°Oh, thank fuck,¡± Chad said with a relieved sigh, kicking one of his legs out. ¡°I can get rid of these stupid fuckin¡¯ hooves, for starters.¡±


    Ruby actually let out a small chuckle at that, before her smile disappeared and she frowned again.


    ¡°Not before the archbishop arrives, you can''t, and even if you could, whoever ends up becoming your warlock will probably make you grow them back,¡± she said, and Chad narrowed his eyes at her.


    ¡°What?¡± he asked, and she held up one of her four-fingered hands.


    ¡°Well, if your pact holder is anything like the archbishop, they¡¯ll order you to make yourself look a certain way, less¡­ human, and more exotic,¡± she said, wiggling her fingers and flapping her little wings. ¡°It varies from warlock to warlock, some of them want their demons to look hideous and terrifying, some of them want a creature of ¡®uncanny beauty.¡¯ The archbishop, he wanted a mix of both, I think.¡± She scoffed, and brought a hand up, very blatantly and obviously grabbing her chest with one hand. ¡°That¡¯s the only reason I can imagine he wanted me to have these.¡±


    The outraged outburst that Chad had been building up to at the mention of him ending up with a warlock whether he wanted one or not died in his throat as he fully processed what she¡¯d said, and he jerked back so suddenly his head struck the bars behind him, letting off a sound like a dull gong.


    ¡°You¡­ you mean you¡¯re¡­ not a woman?¡± Chad asked, and Ruby¡¯s brows furrowed.


    ¡°That¡¯s what gets you worked up?¡± she¡­ he¡­ they asked, scoffing incredulously. ¡°We¡¯re demons. We don¡¯t really come with genders the way mortals do, and living in the Abyss, where there¡¯s a chance you could fall asleep looking one way and wake up looking another, you learn to not get too attached to anything. Sure, I¡¯m a woman, for now. If that evil bastard ever dies and I get out of my pact, I might decide to be something else. It¡¯s not like it really matters one way or the other, does it?¡± Ruby capped off her speech, crossing her arms and shrugging.


    Chad felt numb, felt his heart rate speeding up again. A dozen responses came to him, a dozen nasty, hurtful, snide comments, all in the voice of his father, repeating things he¡¯d heard ad nauseam for the better part of the last decade of his youth. He had to bite down on his tongue to stop one of them from jumping out, and was pretty sure he drew blood.


    Shooting to his feet, er, hooves, Chad paced away from Ruby with a mixture of a growl and a sigh, one hand held to the side of his head.


    ¡°I need to get the fuck out of here,¡± he finally said, turning back around. ¡°I am not fuckin¡¯ getting magically enslaved, I am not gonna become some shit wizard¡¯s magic battery, and I am not turning into a fuckin¡¯¡­¡± he trailed off, turning away again just as quickly, clenching his hand into a fist and slamming it into the rough stone wall of the cell. Ruby didn¡¯t answer, and for several long moments, the only sound in the dungeon was his own heavy breathing.


    Then, as if on cue, a distant rattle of metal and creak of hinges sounded from somewhere Chad couldn¡¯t see. Turning around, Chad stared at the corridor outside his cell, listening as the sounds of footsteps accompanied by a rhythmic wooden tapping grew louder and louder, until a man in red and white robes with a staff¡ªno, not a staff, the decorated metal top came to a sharp point, making it more like a short spear¡ªrounded the corner and approached the door of the cell.


    He was middle-aged, or maybe even older, with pale-blond hair combed back sharply. A pair of spectacles rested on his nose, and he peered in at Chad with tired, half-lidded grey eyes and a pleasant, fatherly smile.


    Well, no, not fatherly; Chad could count on one hand the times he''d seen his father smile, so maybe more like an uncle-y smile.


    ¡°Ah, I see our guest is awake, and making itself at home,¡± the man said, his voice deep but subdued. ¡°Has it volunteered anything useful, Ruby?¡±


    Ruby, who had also risen to her feet at the sound of the man''s approach, glanced over her shoulder at Chad before shaking her head.


    ¡°No, my lord, nothing useful,¡± Ruby said, and Chad saw her clenching and unclenching one of her hands behind her back. ¡°He seems very confused, and I''ve determined he is most likely recently reconstituted, and hasn''t gained back many memories.¡±


    ¡°Mmh, I see,¡± the archbishop said, stroking his chin with his free hand. Chad saw that he had three rings on his index, middle, and ring finger, featuring three ostentatiously large gemstones; a ruby, an emerald, and a sapphire.


    ¡°Well then, demon,¡± he continued, lifting the ornate, gold-topped spear he held and tapping the floor twice. ¡°I don''t suppose you''re feeling cooperative enough to tell me which fool summoned you and let you escape, hmm?¡±


    Arching an eyebrow, Chad stepped forward, passing Ruby on his way to the bars. The archbishop¡¯s expression didn''t change as he approached, but he did tilt his chin up, peering down his nose at Chad. When there was only two feet of space between them, separated only by thick iron bars, Chad took a deep breath and leaned forward.


    ¡°Suck my dick, dude,¡± he said, then spat a glob of spit straight towards the man''s face. The shimmering wall of blue light appeared again, intercepting the shot, and the glob splashed against its surface. It hung there in the air, sliding down the magic barrier before it winked back out, then fell to the floor.


    ¡°Charming,¡± the archbishop said, chuckling through his nose and smirking. ¡°Thank you, Ruby.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, my lord.¡±


    ¡°Well, I suppose it doesn¡¯t matter who summoned you, does it? They¡¯re most likely slain by now; such is the fate of anyone foolish enough to underestimate a demon. Thankfully, I am more than well-versed enough in the ways of your foul kind to know how to deal with you.¡± The archbishop reached deep into the folds of his robes, pulling out a pair of manacles made of a matte, jet-black metal. He tossed them dismissively through the bars, where they sailed past Chad and landed with a clink on the stone floor.


    ¡°Ruby,¡± he said simply, and Chad turned around, finding the woman stooping to pick up the cuffs. ¡°Restrain it. If it does choose to put up a fight, try not to let it injure you too badly; I don¡¯t feel like paying to have you healed again.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you fucking bastard¡­¡± Chad hissed through his teeth. Ruby looked at him ruefully, and held up the manacles by the chain that connected them.


    ¡°So, how¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Chad snapped, turning his head and glaring daggers at the archbishop over his shoulder, who was simply watching with the same not-quite-paternal smile. He could think of a hundred different ways he could insult this guy, a thousand different ways to tell him exactly what he¡¯d do if those bars weren¡¯t in the way, but in the end, he knew it wasn¡¯t worth it. As much as he wanted to explode like usual, reason won out for once. He was in a hopeless, helpless situation, and nothing he could do from inside this cell could change that.


    Chad stepped forward, and when Ruby raised her free hand, he scowled.


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna fuckin¡¯ fight you,¡± he said, raising his arms and holding his wrists out. Sure, he might have, when he first woke up and before he found out she had basically no choice in the matter, but now the thought made him feel sick.


    Ruby eyed him warily, and approached slowly, but when he made no move to stop her, she lifted the manacles open and encircled his wrists, struggling for a moment to find space with the large shackle that was already around his right wrist, before closing them and locking them in place with a series of clicks. Almost immediately, Chad could feel that there was something odd, something off about them, and when he experimentally tried to summon up the fire he¡¯d thrown around so effortlessly before, nothing happened except for a feeling of pressure behind his forehead.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Ruby said quietly as she checked the fit of the cuffs, her eyes downcast. ¡°They¡¯re adamantite. Anti-magic.¡±


    ¡°Psh,¡± Chad scoffed, rolling his eyes and tugging at the chain once, testing its limits. ¡°Of course they are.¡±


    ¡°We haven¡¯t got all day, Ruby,¡± the archbishop interjected, and Ruby winced, stepping back.


    ¡°He¡­ it is secure, my lord,¡± she said, folding her hands in front of her and bowing her head.


    ¡°Excellent.¡± With a rattle of keys, the cell door was unlocked, and Chad turned around to glower at the man as he pulled the door open. ¡°Come along.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Chad grumbled, lifting his hooves and stepping out into the dungeon corridor. The archbishop turned his back to him, and Chad felt every muscle in his body tense, the urge to tackle the man almost overwhelming, but Ruby¡¯s hand fell onto his shoulder. She caught his eye and wordlessly shook her head, and Chad sighed through his nose. He started to follow the archbishop down the corridor, but paused to cast one last glance into the adjacent cell.


    Red eyes stared back at him through a curtain of white hair, and Chad clenched his fists, making a silent vow as he turned and continued towards the corner where the blond man waited. Rounding it, Chad nearly jumped out of his skin as a dark shape detached itself from the walls, resolving into the form of another demon, standing with her arms crossed. She was huge, easily as tall as Zangari had been, and nearly as muscular. Her skin was a bright, brilliant green and her hair was black, cut short and messy like it had been roughly chopped with hedge clippers. She had three horns, two smaller ones beside a larger central horn that spiraled like a drill, and below that, only a single large green eye that was narrowed suspiciously in Chad¡¯s direction.


    Like Ruby, this demon wore heavy cuffs on both of her wrists and ankles, and a thick collar around her neck, but Chad also spied a large ring running through the middle of her nose as she glowered down at him and sniffed.


    ¡°So he came quietly, huh?¡± she rumbled, and Chad noticed a tail similar to his lashing behind her back, except much thicker, and topped with a mace-like ball covered in thick boney spikes. ¡°Tsh, disappointing¡­¡±


    Ah. So that¡¯s why Ruby had stopped him. Chad was not used to encountering more than one person every so often that he didn¡¯t think he could take, but it seemed like this world had no shortage of people he was certain could flatten him like a pancake.


    ¡°It seems that way, but do not let your guard down,¡± the archbishop said without bothering to look back. ¡°It has quite the fiery disposition, much the same as you. I would not be surprised if it attempts something on the way to the ritual chamber.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m right here, y¡¯know,¡± Chad said, and the man chuckled.


    ¡°And I suppose you¡¯d like me to believe you¡¯ve been completely subdued, hmm?¡± the archbishop asked over his shoulder.


    ¡°Maybe Ruby talked it into submission,¡± the larger demon said with a smirk, having moved to flank Chad on his right side, opposite Ruby on his left, who lowered her head at the remark.


    ¡°Be nice to your sister, Emerald,¡± the archbishop admonished, and her smirk melted back into the same scowl she wore when she appeared.


    Chad felt a shiver chase itself down his spine at that, continuing all the way to the tip of his tail. He couldn¡¯t let himself start to panic, he needed to think of a way out of this, but how far could he make it if he couldn¡¯t even throw fire around anymore.


    The path the archbishop took led them past more offshoot hallways with more dark, dank cells, and several small rooms sealed with sturdy metal doors, all the while climbing higher and higher up several small stone staircases, until they emerged from one cramped corridor, through a wooden door with thick metal bands, into the wide open, cavernous room. It was a church, that much was obvious from the decor alone; rows of wooden benches all facing a raised dais, rows of towering stained glass windows depicting what Chad assumed were important scenes in the canon of the Empire¡¯s goddess, and two enormous candelabras hanging overhead. The only thing it was missing was a huge pipe organ behind the podium, but instead that space was taken up by¡ª


    Chad stopped dead in his tracks to stare at the towering statue that dominated the back wall of the church.


    It was a woman, that much was immediately obvious, standing proudly and completely nude with one arm raised in front of her, gigantic sword in hand, pointing straight towards whatever she was supposed to be looking at with that fierce, determined grin. To either side of her were two other figures, short compared to her looming stature, but obviously meant to be two humans, standing shoulder to hip to shoulder with the goddess between them and the hands meeting in the middle, clasped together. Behind the trio in the front, there was a gaggle of other figures, carved to be shorter than the humans, and Chad could see the pointed ears of what he assumed were elves, and the short, squat proportions of dwarves, as well as others he couldn¡¯t begin to guess at. Lastly, as his eyes finished traveling down the length of the statue, he noticed a final figure, hunched over on its knees with its hands clasped in front of it as if begging for forgiveness, and the goddess¡¯ foot on its back. The only discernible features Chad could make out on the final figure were large, pointed ears like that of a cat or dog, and a furred tail.


    ¡°What the fuck, man¡­¡± Chad said in daze at what was, perhaps, the least subtle thing he¡¯d ever seen in his entire life.


    ¡°I see even a creature like you can appreciate the majesty of the goddess.¡± Chad turned at the sound of the archbishop¡¯s smug voice, giving him an incredulous stare. His hopes for finding anyone normal in this entire country were plummeting fast, if its people could look at this thing on a regular basis and not figure out they were the bad guys. Not only that, but there was also something eerily familiar about the goddess herself, something about her face, her hair, that tickled Chad¡¯s brain and told him he should recognize them. Then, of course, there was the fact that it was naked¡­


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a real fuckin¡¯ feast for the eyes in here,¡± Chad snapped, tearing his eyes away from the statue again and gritting his teeth.


    Something seemed to amuse the archbishop, because he chuckled once before he resumed leading the trio of demons through the church. Now that he wasn¡¯t ogling¡ªstaring at the statue, Chad could see other people milling about throughout the expansive space; more people in uniform red robes, as well as patrons who were obviously there to worship, all of whom watched their little procession with open contempt.


    Slipping through some curtains behind the obnoxiously gaudy statue, the group entered the inner workings of the church. More corridors and more stairs finally led to an expansive room that looked like a combination library and laboratory. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, and long tables topped with glass and copper instruments took up another, and in the center, a large perfectly circular ring of dark metal had been set into the wooden floor.


    There was also another demon in here, sitting on a stool and reading a book. Her skin was pale blue, and her hair was so blond it was almost white, done up into fluffy pigtails. Unlike the other two, she didn¡¯t look particularly ¡°demonic;¡± she had two eyes and five fingers, and her ears were only slightly pointed. When she looked up with a smile, Chad could see even her teeth looked mostly normal, except that her canines were particularly prominent. She had horns, but they were tiny, easily missable nubs that started just below her hairline, and when she rose from her seat, the wings that appeared from her back were covered in downy feathers the same pale yellow color as her hair.


    ¡°Welcome back, Father!¡± she exclaimed, performing a little curtsey, spreading her arms and her wings out to her sides and bowing her head low. She had the same combination of cuffs and collar as the other two, except where theirs looked like crude, dull iron, hers appeared to be made of gold, and even had large blue gemstones embedded along their lengths.


    ¡°Thank you, Sapphire,¡± the archbishop said as he reached her, reaching out and indulgently patting the still-bowing demon on the top of her head a few times before continuing past. Chad shuddered again, and out of the corners of his eyes he could see both Ruby and Emerald squirming with discomfort as well.


    The blue demon, Sapphire, lifted her head, her blue eyes alighting upon Chad.


    ¡°So there was a loose demon running around the city!¡± Sapphire exclaimed, rushing up to stand inches away from Chad, forcing him to take several steps back while she bounced on her feet and eyed him up and down. ¡°Ooouh, and such a pretty shade of purple, too! Will you make it our new sister, Father? We could call her ¡®Amethyst!¡¯¡±


    Chad¡¯s heart rate, which had already been resting at a pretty elevated rate, suddenly skyrocketed, and he snapped.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Absolutely fucking not!¡± he shouted, lifting his cuffed wrists and trying to shove the bizarre girl away with both hands. Her wings flapped once and she lifted off the ground, floating out of the way of his swing like a balloon on an air current, giggling all the while. It took one of Emerald¡¯s slab-like hands latching on his shoulder to stop him from chasing after her and trying to wring her neck.


    ¡°Settle down, Sapphire,¡± the archbishop said, his back still turned to the commotion, the majority of his attention set on searching the work table for something. ¡°We¡¯ll still need to discover who summoned it and how, and there may be more benefit in auctioning it to an aspirant state warlock whose family could not afford to summon a demon of their own, but¡­¡± The man picked up a leather satchel, opening it and taking a sniff of its contents, before turning his head to glance dismissively over his shoulder at Chad. ¡°Well, we will see.¡±


    ¡°You just try, I¡¯ll fucking kill you!¡± Chad roared, pulling against Emerald¡¯s iron grip, the green-skinned demon now using both hands to hold him back while he dug his hooves into the carpet and thrashed his tail.


    The archbishop took in a breath through his nose and let out a long suffering sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head.


    ¡°And some people wonder if your kind truly are dangerous¡­ Would that I had a heart half as kind and naive as theirs,¡± the archbishop said, turning around and raising his spear, tapping it on the ground once. ¡°Emerald, reprimand it, then place it in the circle.¡±


    Chad heard Emerald ¡®tsk¡¯ through her teeth, and then he was spun around with such force he felt dizzy, coming face to face with her dour expression. Her eyes softened, as if to say ¡°Sorry,¡± before she drew back one of her brick-sized fists and slammed it ruthlessly into his gut.


    Chad doubled over in pain, and it was only Emerald¡¯s grip on his shoulder that kept him from collapsing. He coughed and gagged, and was surprised he didn¡¯t toss up the hunks of rat meat he¡¯d eaten earlier. Still dazed, he felt his hooves leave the ground, and the next thing he knew he was on his side on the smooth wooden floor, the black ring and the room beyond dissolving into fuzzy outlines as hot tears filled his vision. He wanted to curse and shout and swear bloody revenge, but it was hard enough just sucking in enough air to breathe, let alone form words.


    A blurry red shape appeared, looming over him, and the archbishop¡¯s voice reached his ringing ears.


    ¡°Poor, wretched creature,¡± the man said sadly, kneeling over him. ¡°I assure you, the pain you¡¯re feeling now is but a prologue to what you will experience next. Unless, that is, you make the wise decision, and offer me your contract now¡­¡±


    The blurry shape moved, and Chad¡¯s vision cleared enough to see the man¡¯s hand extended toward him, the same hand which already had three bejeweled rings on it, their facets catching the lamplight and filling his vision with fuzzy colored spots. Three times, at least, that the archbishop had succeeded in binding a demon to him and stripping away their free will. Ruby had said the ritual had a cost to maintain, but even if Chad were somehow able to summon up triple the amount of willpower as literal, actual demons, he doubted that would push the archbishop¡¯s resources to their limits.


    So, was this it? He¡¯d been brought to a fantasy world, the kind of world with magic and knights and monsters and demons, a world of endless possibilities and limitless adventure, and he was doomed to end up the magical pet of some slimy old weirdo from an evil empire?


    Well, if he was, he still wasn¡¯t going out without a fight.


    ¡°Bite¡­ me¡­¡± Chad said through painful, wheezing breaths, and the archbishop disapprovingly clicked his tongue, withdrawing his outstretched hand.


    ¡°So be it,¡± he said, turning his head. ¡°Sapphire, fetch the ink and brush, Ruby, the chest of reagents on the second shelf; let us get this over with.¡±


    Chad closed his eyes and laid there, listening to the sounds of the other demons moving about the room, fetching the requested supplies. That was about all he could do at the moment, and he hated that fact more and more with every passing second. Cracking his eyes open again, he found his right arm laying limply in front of him, with the giant obtrusive iron shackle glaring back at him, taunting him.


    That¡¯s right¡­ it''s still there¡­


    Maybe it always was¡­


    His thoughts were scattered and aimless. The form of the archbishop reappeared, brush and inkpot in hand, and Chad glared up at him defiantly. He stared back with cold indifference, and dipped the brush into the glass jar, leaning down to begin the ritual that would only end with Chad giving up his life, giving up his freedom.


    Chad coughed, spitting a glob of bloody saliva onto the floor, and as he stared at it, he felt his mind drawn back to the enormous, ugly statue that he¡¯d seen on his way through the church; The Goddess of Love and War, with her sword pointed towards the horizon, proud, defiant expression on her beautiful face. He wondered, pain drunk and delirious, if he ought to try praying to her for a way out of this.


    Fat chance¡­ why would a goddess take prayers from a¡ª


    A series of rapid knocks suddenly sounded at the door to the laboratory, and the archbishop froze, a fat blob of ink falling off the tip of the brush into the floor. He lifted his head, looking towards the door, then turned and snapped, ¡°Emerald.¡±


    The larger demon crossed the room to the door, pulling it open a crack to peer at whoever was outside.


    ¡°A miss¡ªah!¡± Whoever was outside yelped, momentarily thrown off before he composed himself and rattled off his message in full.


    ¡°Ah, uh, a missive from the castle has just been delivered, Your Holiness! For your hands only!¡± the messenger announced, and Chad heard the rustling of papers. The archbishop, who had been kneeling with his back to the door, looking like he might resume the dreaded ritual at any moment, finally stood up and turned around when he heard that.


    ¡°Can this not wait?¡± he asked, irritably.


    ¡°N-no, Your Holiness!¡± the messenger said, and Chad weakly lifted his head. Emerald had opened the door wider, and he could see him now, a scrawny boy wearing one of the more plain red robes of the church attendants. He thrust a folded envelope towards the archbishop as far as he could without actually stepping inside the room.


    The archbishop¡¯s shoulders rose and fell, and he reached out and accepted the letter, holding it up and examining the wax seal for a few moments before tossing it onto a small side table and turning back around.


    ¡°Very well, thank you page, I shall attend to it just as soon as I am finished here,¡± the archbishop said, kneeling back down and swirling his brush in the ink again. Emerald tried to close the door on the boy, who squeaked and suddenly jammed himself in the way.


    ¡°A-ah, but, Your Holiness!¡± he protested, face squeezed between the edge of the door and the frame. ¡°I was told you were to respond to its contents immediately!¡±


    Even though he had no idea what was going on, Chad took an almost perverse amount of pleasure in seeing the archbishop¡¯s nostrils flare in anger as he stood back up. Wordlessly, he retrieved the dropped envelope and fished around inside his robes, producing a small knife which he used to break the seal, withdrawing the folded sheet of paper inside, reading it in agitated silence.


    Several seconds passed, and Chad¡¯s heart hammered in his chest, until the archbishop asked aloud, ¡°What is the meaning of this? A summons to the castle, now?¡± Turning his head and fixing the pageboy with a glare, he demanded, ¡°Who delivered this?¡±


    ¡°I-it was one of the city couriers,¡± the boy answered nervously. ¡°A beastkin with gray wings¡ª¡±


    ¡°Are you a fool, boy?¡± the archbishop asked with venom in his voice, and Chad saw the boy widen his eyes and take a step back. ¡°A royal missive from a common street courier? And I suppose I am to fly out the door at the drop of a hat on the words of what is likely a forged letter?¡± The archbishop scoffed, waving his hand in a shooing motion. ¡°Off with you, page. I will verify this letter¡¯s authenticity myself, and then and only then shall I¡ª¡±


    ¡°That will not be necessary,¡± a new voice announced from behind the now trembling pageboy, and a man decked out in armor stepped out from around the corridor¡¯s corner. He was a knight, a literal knight in shining armor, and Chad didn¡¯t know whether he wanted to cry or throw up.


    ¡°I can confirm that that missive comes directly from the castle itself, and I should think one of your eminence would be able to discern the genuine royal seal from a forgery,¡± the knight continued, moving to take the boy¡¯s place in front of the door, resting a gauntleted hand on one of his shoulders. ¡°The message was dispatched by a winged courier to ensure that it reached you with all due haste, as it pertained to a matter of much urgency.¡± Chad saw the man¡¯s helmet shift slightly, and was certain he could feel his eyes on him. ¡°I see it has reached Your Holiness with perfect timing; I shall have to commend that lad.¡±


    Tilting his head down to the other boy, he gave him a pat on the shoulder and said, much more quietly, ¡°Go back to your work, page, you have done your duty.¡±


    The boy cast one last nervous glance at the archbishop before giving the knight a grateful nod and turning, bolting out of the corridor as fast as he could.


    ¡°Ah,¡± the archbishop said, stooping down and picking up the envelope he had dropped. ¡°Mmh, yes, upon closer inspection, it does appear that this seal is genuine. You must forgive me, I am a very busy man, and cannot be too careful with these things. I suppose you lead the retinue that is to accompany me to the castle?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Your Holiness,¡± the knight said, the nod of his head causing his armor to clatter subtly.


    ¡°Very well, I shall need a moment to prepare myself. Ruby, Emerald, Sapphire, keep our guest company until I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± the knight interjected, raising his voice well over what he needed just to interrupt the archbishop, ¡°Your Holiness could be troubled to read the missive more thoroughly? You have been ordered to present yourself at the castle as promptly as possible, and you are to bring the demon that was captured earlier this morning as well.¡± The armored man deliberately crossed his arms over his chest. ¡°I presume that pathetic heap sprawled out on the floor there is said demon?¡±


    ¡°That¡­ is correct,¡± the archbishop answered after a moment of hesitation, and Chad felt relief crash into him like a speeding train. His whole body went slack, like his bones had simply disappeared, and he rolled over onto his back and began to chuckle hoarsely. He could see Ruby, Emerald, and Sapphire in the corners of his vision, all exchanging confused glances with each other.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I had some trouble subduing this one,¡± the archbishop said. ¡°I will have one of my girls¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your Holiness need not disturb himself.¡± Chad was starting to lose count of the number of times the knight had cut the archbishop off, and the fact that he was doing it with such superficial politeness made him want to laugh harder. Soft metallic clinking and heavy footfalls accompanied the armored man as he invited himself into the room, and soon he was looming over Chad¡¯s prone form.


    ¡°Can you stand, demon?¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± Chad said with a cough, and the knight grunted, kneeling down. Chad expected to feel the rough grip of his armored gloves on his shoulders or arms, perhaps to be grabbed by the chain connecting his manacles and hauled to his feet, but instead he was simply offered a hand. It was so¡­ incongruous with almost everything he¡¯d experienced so far, he didn¡¯t want to believe it at first, suspecting a trick, to have the hand pulled out of his grasp when he reached for it. When he did reach out, and the strong hand closed around his own and pulled him, gently, into a sitting position, he was convinced he had to be dreaming.


    As he was helped to his hooves, Chad allowed himself to feel a tiny, miniscule amount of appreciation that even this shitty place couldn¡¯t ruin knights for him.


    That¡¯s right, knights were always some of my favorites¡­


    He just as quickly buried those thoughts as he tested his balance and made sure he wasn¡¯t about to collapse again. His whole torso still felt like one big bruise, but his head had cleared and he was thinking rationally again. Clearing his throat, he gave the armored man a curt nod.


    ¡°Eh, thanks, man,¡± Chad said casually, and the knight let out a chuckle that echoed in the confines of his helmet.


    ¡°I am simply doing as my liege instructed,¡± the knight said, and his tone was much softer than when he¡¯d been repeatedly rebuking the archbishop. Turning his head, he found the blond man where he¡¯d left him by the door, and called, ¡°A carriage awaits your earliest convenience, Your Holiness. We will meet you outside.¡±


    Saying this, the knight took hold of Chad¡¯s upper arm and led him towards the door, and for a split second, it looked like the archbishop would refuse to move out of their way, but the armored man didn¡¯t slow down in the slightest, forcing him to stand aside or be bowled over. Before Chad and his¡­ savior had even rounded the corner, he heard the door to the archbishop¡¯s laboratory slam shut.


    Once they were alone in the corridors, the knight stopped pulling him so quickly, but did not remove his hand from his arm.


    ¡°You¡¯re not just some regular city guard, are you?¡± Chad asked, not wanting to let the silence linger now that he had another friendly, or at least non-openly-hostile, person to talk to. ¡°You said ¡®my liege¡¯ back there.¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± the knight said quietly, his voice still amplified by the tight confines of his helmet. Up this close, Chad could almost make out the face of the man behind the visor as he looked at him. ¡°We cannot speak here. Things will become clear once we reach the castle.¡±


    Well that was¡­ ominous as hell. Some of the dread that Chad had left behind was starting to seep back in now, and he found himself wondering if he hadn¡¯t just been snatched from the frying pan to be tossed into the fire. He was on his way to the castle after all, and he couldn¡¯t imagine what anyone there would want with him. But, on the other hand, he wasn¡¯t currently being magically starved to near death in order to coerce a magic contract out of him, so, small blessings.


    A frantic rustle of cloth and tapping of wood sounded behind them, and the archbishop stormed around the corner, with Emerald in tow. His face looked slightly red, and he was pulling a heavy cloak over his robes with his free hand.


    ¡°Ah, Your Holiness,¡± the knight said by way of greeting. ¡°I was worried we would¡¯ve had to depart without you and send another carriage.¡±


    Chad couldn¡¯t fully suppress his snort of laughter, and didn¡¯t bother to hide his smirk when the archbishop¡¯s eyes, no longer placid and half-lidded, but baleful and wide open, snapped over to him.


    ¡°Mmh, yes, quite,¡± he said, and that was that.


    The four of them wound their way out of the back rooms of the church, returning to the main hall with the goddess¡¯ statue. Chad couldn¡¯t help but cast a quick glance up at it as they shuffled past, but otherwise he remained silent, even in his own mind.


    The grand double doors at the entrance of the church were closed, and Chad wondered if they would have to shove one of those enormous, intricately carved slabs of wood out of the way before they could leave, but the knight just altered their course, leading them to a smaller side door, through which they stepped out onto the streets of the city, and Chad took in several deep lungfuls of fresh, non-dungeon-scented air.


    If Chad didn¡¯t know better, he would have assumed he was in a different city entirely, as the street he now found himself on looked nothing like the ones he¡¯d spent the better part of the early morning running through. The buildings weren¡¯t all crammed up against one another, for starters, and the streets were cleaner, as were the people who walked them. Predictably, the vast majority were humans, wearing colorful and well tailored outfits, but Chad also got his first actual look at the elves of this world, and they were¡­ not what he expected.


    At first, he thought he was looking at more demons, as every elf he spied had skin and hair that ran from one end of the rainbow to the other, and the same long, pointed ears, but the way they were all well-dressed and walking along without the rest of the cityfolk going into a panic solidified his certainty that they were the elves he¡¯d heard about.


    He could also still spot the occasional beastkin, but they were almost always in the company of other groups, from the large bull-like types carrying packs and luggage, to armed and armored figures with dog and wolf ears shadowing the more well-to-do humans at a close distance, down to the occasional winged figure soaring overhead.


    The knight¡¯s insistent tugging on his arm kept him from stopping and gawking, but he still craned his neck this way and that, momentarily getting caught up in the excitement of all the fantastical people and impressive architecture, now that he actually had an opportunity to take those things in. Even their accommodations were exciting; an actual horse drawn carriage, complete with a quartet of knights on horseback surrounding it, keeping gawkers and onlookers from getting too close.


    As they stepped out onto the street, the knight¡¯s head began turning, scanning the skyline above them. Chad wondered if there was some possible danger he was looking out for, when the man raised his other arm high, waving at something across the street. A small figure that had been perched on the awning of an adjacent building detached itself and swooped through the air, landing on the cobblestone¡ªactual cobblestone!¡ªroad with a slight woosh of displaced air. He stood up, and Chad saw it was a young boy, much like the page boy from the temple had been, with clothes that looked distinctly hand-me-down, and he had gray feathers sprouting along the length of his arms and between his fluffy gray hair. Large feathery wings folded themselves behind his back, and bare, taloned feet clicked on the pavement as he approached the knight.


    ¡°No need to be afraid, boy,¡± the man said, waving the boy closer and reaching for a pouch at his hip. He withdrew a large, brightly-polished silver coin and held it out to the youth, whose eyes lit up as he snatched it from the man¡¯s hand. ¡°Excellent work, lad. My liege extends his most sincere thanks for your outstanding service.¡±


    ¡°T-thank you, sir knight!¡± the boy said, the coin vanishing so quickly Chad hadn¡¯t even seen it happen. Dropping into a deep and clumsy bow, he continued, ¡°Give my thanks to your lord as well!¡±


    ¡°I shall,¡± the knight said with another chuckle that reverberated inside his helmet. ¡°What did you say your name was, lad?¡±


    ¡°Callum, sir!¡± the boy said, still bent over awkwardly.


    ¡°I shall be sure to commend you to your agency, Callum,¡± the knight said, and the boy¡¯s head shot up, his eyes wide as saucers.


    ¡°T-thank you, sir!¡±


    With that, the boy¡¯s wings unfolded and he lifted into the air, rapidly ascending while dodging out of the way of another flying messenger, who squawked angrily at him as they passed each other by.


    Beside them, the archbishop let out a completely unsubtle scoff at the display. It was so unnecessary and so petty, Chad couldn¡¯t help but snort, once again drawing the man¡¯s hateful glare back onto him.


    The quartet finally approached the carriage, and an elf man in a sharply tailored black suit coat moved to open the door for them. Chad took one look at the interior, then glanced back at Emerald, whose head was already taller than the roof of the carriage even while standing outside of it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re all gonna fit in there,¡± Chad said, and the archbishop scoffed again.


    ¡°Of course we will not,¡± he said, turning his head and tapping his spear-staff. ¡°Emerald, you will follow.¡± Saying this and nothing more, the archbishop climbed the short steps up into the carriage.


    Chad glanced up at Emerald, who wore a sardonic smirk. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± she said quietly, pre-empting his question before he could even ask it.


    Sighing, Chad nodded, and grabbed the handle beside the door, ascending the steps into the carriage. The interior was a dark, cherry-red wood, and there were two wide bench seats of well-padded plush red velvet on either end. Chad obviously took the seat opposite the one the archbishop had chosen, as did the knight when he came clattering in. The door closed behind him, leaving the three of them enclosed in the confines of the carriage, with the knight beside him and the archbishop¡¯s slate-gray eyes boring holes in him across the gap. Chad wouldn¡¯t admit it, except maybe under pain of death, but in that moment he pressed himself a little more tightly into the knight¡¯s side, clawing back a sliver of comfort in a situation that still seemed utterly bleak.


    Turning his head, Chad stared out the window at the city streets outside to avoid meeting the other man¡¯s gaze, and when a whistle was blown and the carriage started to move, he could almost imagine he was back home, riding in the car with Mandy.


    Well, no, not really, Chad thought with a small, bitter chuckle. Mandy doesn¡¯t drive this slowly or this carefully¡­


    Or, rather, didn¡¯t drive. Because Mandy was still on Earth, and he was stuck here in this toilet bowl of a city.


    Still, depressing thoughts aside, it was relaxing; the motion of the carriage, the muffled street sounds, watching the buildings roll past. It was a nice distraction from worrying about what awaited him at the castle.


    Maybe that¡¯s why the trip felt like it was over before it even began. At some point, the buildings surrounding them thinned out, and then gave way to an open view of the water as the carriage began to pass over a bridge. If the streets outside the church made the lower district streets look shabby in comparison, the area they arrived in on the other side of the bridge made the streets outside the church look like run-down slums. The buildings on approach to the castle were all massive manses of painted wood and expertly carved stone, each one with a gigantic courtyard sectioned off from the streets by towering iron fences.


    Chad found himself pressing his nose up against the glass as he strained to see better, completely engrossed in the majesty of his surroundings for perhaps the first time, feeling a bit like a kid again, about to arrive at a fantasy theme park or renaissance fair.


    So, of course, the archbishop had to butt in and ruin it.


    ¡°Imagining how it would all look set ablaze, demon?¡±


    Closing his eyes, Chad clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. He was calm now, he was¡­ relatively safe, with the knight beside him who seemed to have a vested interest in keeping an eye on him. He did not need to take the man¡¯s bait and fly off the handle.


    ¡°No, actually,¡± Chad said without turning away from the window. ¡°I¡¯m admiring the architecture.¡±


    The archbishop scoffed again, but seemed to have no further rebuttal, and Chad was able to enjoy what little remained of the ride. Eventually, the carriage passed over a drawbridge and through a gatehouse, and Chad¡¯s excitement and nervousness both redoubled. They were inside the castle courtyard now, and he could see the towering walls curving away into the distance. The carriage came to a stop, and the elven driver appeared outside the window. The door was opened, and Chad nearly tripped over himself getting out.


    The courtyard was magnificent. They had stopped just before a central fountain that featured another statue of the Goddess of Love and War, with wide, smoothly paved footpaths woven between immaculately manicured grass lawns. Rose bushes lined the paths, and tall, red-barked trees were arranged in neat rows to provide little pockets of shade. Down one path, Chad could see the beginnings of a garden beyond a row of decorative iron fences. Down another, the work buildings for those that likely lived and worked within the castle directly; stables, and a barracks next door, and large storehouses and a row of what Chad assumed were servant¡¯s housing.


    And then there was the castle itself, looming over everything. Like Chad had suspected, it was built so that its back was pressed flush against the sheer cliffside side of the mountain that thrust upwards into the sky, disappearing beyond the cloud cover. Its walls and towers were built out of the same dark stone that the mountain appeared to be made of, their roofs tiled with bright red shingles that were curved and layered over one another like giant scales. There were six towers that Chad could count, forming a hexagon around a central keep, which itself had four inner towers at its corners that connected to the outer towers through shorter walls, like the spokes of a wheel. Smack dab in the center of the keep was a gigantic circular stained glass window, and Chad had no doubt that it overlooked the grand hall. He wondered if that was where they were going, and if he¡¯d get to take a closer look at it once they were there.


    Curiously, Chad could also spot dozens of tall, narrow copper rods, like lightning rods, topping not just the towers, but dotted along several of the walls at even intervals. He was¡­ pretty sure that wasn¡¯t how lightning rods were meant to be placed, that you only needed one and it was supposed to go at the highest point. Sure enough, there was a truly gigantic copper pole jutting out of the tallest point of the central tower, but that didn¡¯t explain all the others.


    Before Chad could get any more lost in the vistas, the gauntleted hand of the knight closed around his arm and brought him back down to earth¡­ or, wherever the hell this was. Chad turned around and¡ª


    ¡°Huh?¡± he blurted out without thinking, staring wide-eyed.


    ¡°Is something the matter?¡± the young man with curly black hair staring back at him asked, his voice no longer muffled. He had removed his helmet at some point, and now Chad could see that he was not the grizzled older man with years of experience on his lined face that he¡¯d been unconsciously imagining under there, but someone who looked like he could be, at most, in his late twenties. Sure, he still looked a bit rugged, but his cheeks was still smooth, and his eyes were soft, and his¡ª


    Jerking back like he¡¯d been struck, Chad yanked himself out of the man¡¯s grasp, bringing his own hand up to rub at the spot he¡¯d been holding.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± Chad shouted, much too hastily, grinding his teeth and turning away, searching for something, anything else to look at, to wash the man¡¯s appearance from his memory. His eyes settled on the fountain, a few feet away, and he stomped over to it. Compounding his shame and frustration, he was finally able to notice the way his hooves made obnoxiously loud clopping noises against the courtyard stones with every step. Reaching the edge fountain, he stared down into it, seeing his glowing eyes and blue hair and purple skin reflected back at him. Scowling at himself, sucked in a quick breath and then plunging his head beneath the water. He kept it there for a count of two before pulling himself back out with a gasp.


    Why the fuck was I staring at him like that?


    The question reverberated off the inside of his mind like the beating of a drum as he turned back, finding the young knight, the archbishop, and the rest of the guardsmen who had followed them on horseback staring at him with bewilderment. Emerald, who had been keeping up with the carriage and the horses the entire time on foot and looked like she hadn¡¯t even broken a sweat, was just looking at him curiously.


    Obviously sensing an opportunity, the archbishop turned to the young knight.


    ¡°I do not think it wise to bring this creature any further into the royal palace. It is clearly more unstable than most demons, and though the anti-magic cuffs will keep it from causing serious harm, safety cannot be guaranteed until it has been bound by a pact. Please, let me¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the young man snapped, and without his helmet Chad could see the way his face contorted as he glowered at the man who had to be almost twice his age. It made Chad want to stick his head back into the fountain and hold it there. A second later, the expression vanished, and the knight corrected himself ¡°I mean, Your Holiness need not bestir himself. My liege will be expecting us shortly, yourself and the demon.¡± Turning and motioning to the other knights, he dismissed half of them, sending them towards the stables with the horses, while sending the other three on ahead.


    To Chad¡¯s mild disappointment, they weren¡¯t directed down the path towards the central keep, but instead towards the fenced-in gardens. He supposed he could also get excited about that, if he could fucking focus on anything other than how surprisingly¡ª


    ¡°Are you sure you are well, demon?¡±


    The fucking young knight appeared over his shoulder again, and he sidestepped to put distance between them again.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, don¡¯t stand so close,¡± he growled through clenched teeth. The man arched an eyebrow, clearly confused, but did not press the issue, walking at a more respectable distance as he and Chad and the archbishop walked the smooth stone path.


    ¡°Perhaps you begin to see that your kindness is wasted on these creatures,¡± the archbishop said snidely, walking behind Chad and the knight with Emerald at his side. Chad snarled, jerking his head back to glare at the archbishop, but Emerald caught his eye and gave him a warning look, so he smothered the impulse to turn around and lunge for the man¡¯s throat.


    Arriving at the gates to the garden, the guards that had been sent on ahead were waiting, two standing at attention on either side of the gate with the third standing inside holding the gate open. They entered, and the gate was shut behind them. Continuing along the narrower path between rows of flowers and berry bushes, they eventually arrived in a clearing surrounding a small artificial pond, with benches arranged around the edges. There were three figures already waiting there; an elven woman with rosy-pink skin wearing a white and black dress holding a bottle of wine, a man in armor similar in design to the young knight¡¯s holding a parasol, and standing as still as a statue behind the third figure, an older, distinguished-looking blond woman reclining on one of the benches, a book in her lap and a glass of wine in one hand. She was wearing a red silken dress embroidered with shimmering gold thread that looked far too luxurious for just lounging around on a park bench reading and drinking, but Chad supposed that was the whole point of being royalty.


    Stopping a good distance from the woman, both the young knight and the archbishop went to one knee, and the knight loudly announced, ¡°Imperial Highness, The First Blossom, Preeminent Spear of the Fulminous Empire, Duchess of Lichtford, Princess Aurelia Ippolita Rosenfeld, I present to you: High Archbishop Hugo Havener, as requested.¡±


    Princess? Is this not the Empress?


    The woman did not even look up from the pages of her book. For many, many long seconds, she continued to read in silence, occasionally turning a page or taking a sip from her glass. Every so often, the elven woman leaned down and refilled the woman¡¯s glass without prompting, then went back to standing by. It was, Chad understood, a blatant and obvious display of how much less important any of them were compared to her, and even he knew it would be the worst possible idea to open his mouth and call this lady out on it.


    But he so wanted to.


    Finally, she spoke.


    ¡°Rise,¡± she commanded, and they did. ¡°Approach, Archbishop Havener, we have matters to discuss. The rest of you are dismissed.¡±


    Huh? That¡¯s it? That¡¯s what they came all this way for?


    Obviously, the archbishop was just as confused, clearing his throat as he stepped forward. ¡°Ah, yes, Your Highness. If I may, what of the demon?¡±


    The woman finally turned her head to regard their group at that, her eyes slipping from the archbishop to land on Chad, and he sucked in a breath in sudden surprise.


    This woman, whoever she was, could have been Mandy¡¯s mother, or perhaps one of her aunts. Chad had met both, the former several times, the latter only during holidays, but this woman looked uncannily like all of them. She had the same beautiful, naturally well-proportioned face, the same shade of blonde hair with a little bit of a curl to it, and the same frosty blue eyes.


    ¡°What of it?¡± the woman, Princess Aurelia asked, just as quickly dismissing Chad and dropped her gaze back to the pages of the book in her lap.


    ¡°I¡­ believe I was requested to bring it here,¡± the archbishop stated warily.


    ¡°I care not what you do with your pets, archbishop. I made no such request,¡± Princess Aurelia said, taking another sip from her glass, the barest hint of irritation slipping into her voice.


    ¡°Apologies, sister,¡± a new, softer voice announced, another figure emerging from one of the branching paths that led away from the clearing. A younger girl, and another person who could be a dead ringer for a member of Mandy¡¯s family, an older sister perhaps. Her hair was cut in a short, messy bob, and she was dressed much more casually than Princess Aurelia, in a loose white shirt with a half-cape draped over one shoulder, and baggy, flowy pants that were tucked into high black boots. She also had a sword with an intricate basket hilt hanging from her hips, Chad noted with no small amount of interest.


    ¡°When I heard you wished to have words with the archbishop, I took the liberty of having him summoned ahead of schedule, so that he might carry out a request for me as well. I heard of the rogue demon he¡¯d recently captured, and requested he deliver it here,¡± the new girl explained as she stepped further into the circle, giving the reclining princess the tiniest of respectful bows.


    The young knight, who up until now had been hovering beside Chad, cleared his throat and stepped forward, now placing himself behind the newcomer.


    ¡°Ahem, His Highness, Duke of Cinderfield, First-Class Illuminator, Prince Mylo Placido Rosenfeld,¡± the knight announced, and Chad did a mental, and then physical, double take.


    ¡°Prince?!¡± he blurted out, and everyone except the seated princess turned to look at him in alarm. ¡°What do you mean prince? You¡¯re a guy?!¡±


    The young¡­ man cocked his head to the side, arching one delicate blond eyebrow.


    ¡°Indeed, I am,¡± he said, an amused smile appearing on his way, way too soft looking face.


    ¡°But you¡¯re so¡ªghlk!¡± Chad cut himself off, quite literally biting down on his tongue when he realized what he was about to say. Sure, alright, he could admit that the young knight was¡­ ridiculously good-looking, but still in a manly, hard edged kind of way. This newcomer, Prince Mylo, was¡­


    Chad couldn¡¯t even bring himself to think it, and just raised his chained wrists so he could grind his palms into his face while groaning in frustration.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care what game you¡¯re playing, Mylo, but play it somewhere else,¡± Princess Aurelia said flatly, making a shooing motion with her drinking hand.


    ¡°P-pardon me, just a moment!¡± the archbishop protested weakly, turning from the princess to the prince. ¡°Prince Mylo, may I ask why you requested I bring this highly dangerous, unbound demon out of the safe confines of the temple?¡±


    ¡°Because,¡± Prince Mylo said, taking a few more steps forward, now placing himself, and by extension the knight at his back, between Chad and the archbishop. ¡°I want it for myself.¡±


    What?!


    ¡°What?!¡± Chad shouted out, and was summarily ignored.


    ¡°Y-you want it?¡± the archbishop sputtered, even more thrown off than when the young knight continuously interrupted him. ¡°I¡­ had no idea you¡¯d changed your mind on pursuing the career of a warlock, my prince! S-surely, I can find a more suitable demon for you, one with a better¡­ temperament, this one is¡ª¡±


    ¡°This one is the one I want,¡± Prince Mylo stated plainly, and Chad¡¯s head spun so much he felt like it was about to fall off his shoulders. Turning his head, the young man looked at Chad out of the corner of his eye. ¡°An unruly temperament simply makes the conquest all the sweeter¡­¡±


    Ex-fucking-scuse you?!


    The comment was so startling, so out of left field even for what Chad had been through, that he couldn¡¯t even manage to choke out a response. Meanwhile, the archbishop, clearly not a man overly used to being so thoroughly denied something he wanted for himself, opened his mouth again.


    ¡°But, Your Highness¡ª¡±


    He was interrupted again, this time by a sharp CRACK. In an instant, Princess Aurelia went from reclining on her bench to standing before the stunned older man, balanced on one of her legs while the other shot straight up into the air, like a clock striking six. A split second passed, and the princess¡¯ heel came crashing down onto the archbishop¡¯s head like a falling star, driving him into the pavement. The trees and bushes around them rustled from the force of the impact.


    And she hadn¡¯t even set down her glass of wine.


    ¡°Archbishop Havener.¡± Princess Aurelia spoke with complete calm, like she hadn¡¯t just teleported from her bench and heel-dropped a man into the ground. ¡°I think you may need to be reminded of a fact crucial to your station. You may speak the goddess¡¯s words, but myself and Prince Mylo are the goddess¡¯s blood. Our word is her word, and that counts for my brother as well, soft-hearted disappointment that he is. If he says he wants that demon¡±¡ªshe pointed lazily with the hand holding her wine glass at Chad, and he felt every hair on his body stand on end¡ª¡°he will have it. If he says he wants that demon¡±¡ªher arm shifted, and she pointed at Emerald now¡ª¡°he¡¯ll have it as well. Is there any part of this arrangement that is unclear to you, Archbishop Havener?¡±


    The whole time she spoke, she continuously ground the heel of her slipper into the downed man¡¯s cheek. Chad wasn¡¯t even sure he was still alive, until he let out a pained groan, coughing a mouthful of blood onto the stones beneath him.


    ¡°No¡­ Your Highness¡­¡± the archbishop croaked, and Princess Aurelia removed her heel from his face.


    ¡°Wonderful,¡± she said, raising her glass and taking a long, deep drag from it, emptying it entirely. Then, she turned, snapping her fingers at the elven attendant. ¡°Evelynn, attend to the archbishop. Mylo, take your new toy and leave us.¡±


    ¡°Of course, sister,¡± Prince Mylo said, crossing one arm over his stomach and bowing.


    Chad wasn¡¯t sure if it was the culmination of everything he¡¯d suffered up until that point, or merely just the last few minutes that broke him, but something snapped, whatever had been holding him back from throwing all caution and sense to the wind. He had, finally, had enough.


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Chad roared, lunging forward and throwing his arms over the prince¡¯s head, using the chain that connected his shackles to yank him back by his neck, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult, but not impossible. ¡°I¡¯m done! I¡¯m done with aaaaall of this! I¡¯m not gonna be some weird old pervert¡¯s magic slave, and I¡¯m definitely not goin¡¯ anywhere with this¡­ this¡­ fruity little prince, except out of this castle and then out of this shitty city! Anyone got a problem with that?!¡±


    Amongst the other occupants of the clearing, the only one who showed the appropriate reaction to Chad¡¯s outburst was the young knight, who had already drawn his sword and was holding it at the ready while glaring daggers at Chad. Princess Aurelia turned away with naked disinterest, returning to the bench where she left her book, while the knight who had been holding the parasol for her simply stood there and watched, and the elf maid, Evelynn, didn¡¯t even look up from administering some kind of syrupy red liquid to the injured archbishop.


    Lastly, Prince Mylo, the one who Chad expected to be reacting the most strongly to being taken hostage, was not struggling in the slightest. He wasn¡¯t even squirming, even as Chad put more pressure on his neck to start dragging him backwards.


    ¡°I am losing my patience, Mylo. Control that thing, or I will take it away,¡± Princess Aurelia warned, talking as though Chad were a misbehaving dog and not a demon threatening to choke the life out of her brother.


    ¡°Apologies, sister¡­¡± the prince croaked out hoarsely, turning his head and giving Chad a soft, rueful smile.


    ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Chad started to speak, flexing his arms to try and pull the chain as tight as it could go. He was too slow, on both accounts, as Prince Mylo¡¯s hands came up and gripped both of his forearms. Suddenly, every muscle in Chad¡¯s body was flexing and spasming, with visible arcs of lightning shooting up his arms, emanating from the prince¡¯s hands. White-hot pain lit up every nerve ending, overtaking every other sensation, and it lasted for only a few seconds, Chad once again found himself hitting the ground when the prince finally released him, reflexively curling up into a little ball.


    What happened after that only came back in flashes and vague impressions after the fact. He was dimly aware of being lifted off the cold stone pavement and being carried away. Bright, unforgiving sunlight was replaced by softer shades of tinted light, coming in through windows and emanating from mounted lamps. Indistinct faces and voices flashed by in a blur, but he could take in none of them. The only constant was the sensation of being carried in the arms of another, a sensation he could not recall having ever experienced, not since¡­


    Not since¡­


    When Chad¡¯s head finally decided to stop spinning, and his eyes fluttered open, he found himself laid out on the surface of a large, luxuriously comfortable four-poster bed. His body ached all over, like the day after a full-body workout, but the cool, silken sheets and pillowy-soft mattress beneath him were doing wonders to alleviate some of that pain. He even realized, dimly, that the anti-magic shackles had been removed, and he was free to stretch his arms out as far as he wanted. Chad groaned fitfully, and rolled over on the bed.


    And came face to face with the young knight, sitting in a chair beside the bed and glaring right at him.


    ¡°H-ah! Fuck!¡± Chad shouted, attempting to bolt upright but instead just flopping clumsily onto his side. The man¡¯s stare remained intensely fixed on him, but one of his eyebrows lifted slightly.


    ¡°Were you fuckin¡¯ watching me sleep, man?¡± Chad asked irritably, trying once again to sit upright, moving more slowly and carefully this time.


    ¡°You threatened Prince Mylo¡¯s life,¡± the young knight stated, and it all started to come back to Chad. That¡¯s right. He had lost it a little at the end there and made one last desperate play to take control of his life back into his own hands, and failed miserably.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Chad said, grunting and swinging his legs out over the edge of the bed and sitting forward. ¡°Yeah, I did. You want a fuckin¡¯ apology? Do you have any idea the kind of morning I¡¯ve had?¡±


    Instead of answering, the knight just sighed, turning his head to the side and muttering, ¡°I told him this was a terrible idea¡­¡±


    Before Chad could ask the man to elaborate, a door on the far end of the room opened with a clatter, and Prince Mylo poked his head in through the gap.


    ¡°Is he¡­ oh, you¡¯re awake, wonderful!¡±


    Chad furrowed his brow as the prince stepped fully into the room, holding a tray in both hands and using his heel to close the door behind him. He continued to eye him warily as he approached the bed, placing the tray down on a bedside table.


    ¡°I wanted to have something ready for you when you awoke, since I figured you¡¯d be feeling poorly after¡­¡±


    ¡°After you zapped the shit outta me,¡± Chad finished for him.


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Prince Mylo said, lowering his head, looking completely abashed. ¡°I also wished to apologize for¡­ what I said in the garden. I thought it was the best way to sell the impression that I brought you here for purely utilitarian reasons.¡±


    Ah, so all that ¡°conquest¡± stuff was an act? Chad wasn¡¯t sure he was ready to buy that, but then, he didn¡¯t really have a lot of other options at the moment.


    Sitting up, Chad peered down at the silver tray. It was loaded with assorted bits of food; two thick sausages, a wedge of cheese, a pile of dark purple berries, and¡­


    ¡°Is that fuckin¡¯ caviar?¡± Chad asked dryly, pointing to the small glass dish of translucent reddish-orange orbs.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Prince Mylo followed Chad¡¯s finger, tilting his head. ¡°That is roe from a fulmine eel.¡± He then proceeded to point to the rest of the items on the tray, naming them as he went. ¡°There¡¯s also fire drake sausage, cheese from the milk of an earthshaker mountain goat, and abani berries. I understand you demons prefer your foods to be rich in mana, yes?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what they tell me,¡± Chad said, sighing and reaching out, pinching one of the ¡°abani berries¡± between his fingers and lifting towards his face, giving it a sniff. It smelled¡­ like a berry, but there was also something else there, reminiscent of the weird smoky aftertaste of the dusk rat meat. Chad popped it into his mouth, tasting sweet but tart juice, and as he breathed out, a small puff of black mist wafted into the air.


    ¡°Hmm, not bad¡­¡± Chad admitted begrudgingly, and began to dig into the snack tray with reckless abandon. The sausages were savory and spicy, and the cheese was robust, very sharp, with a strong nutty flavor. The roe, which came with a tiny spoon in it that Chad ignored completely, burst on his tongue with a rich, salty, fishy taste that also made his tongue tingle, a bit like licking the two prongs on a nine-volt battery. Another person, someone with more regard for what other people thought, might have felt embarrassed to be seen shoveling meat and cheese and berries into his mouth by a knight and a literal prince, but Chad was not that person. In short order, the tray was picked clean, and both young men were looking on with a mix of surprise and uneasiness.


    ¡°Well, thanks for the grub,¡± Chad said, chewing and swallowing the last mouthful, already feeling much better than when he¡¯d woken up.


    ¡°You¡¯re most welcome¡­ ah, I don¡¯t believe I got your name? I wouldn¡¯t want to continue referring to you as simply ¡®demon,¡¯¡± the prince said hopefully. Chad, taken aback by the man¡¯s polite request, and his soft¡­ demeanor, scooted a bit further back away from the edge of the bed. The bed that was, in all likelihood, the prince¡¯s.


    ¡°Chad,¡± Chad said plainly, turning his head to admire some of the decor inside the room.


    ¡°Chad? Hmm, an odd name, to be sure, but I¡¯d say it¡¯s bluntness does fit you rather well,¡± Prince Mylo said with a light chuckle, and Chad ground his sharp teeth together slightly. ¡°And, forgive me if this is not the correct method of asking, you are¡­ a ¡®he,¡¯ correct?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± asked, snapping his head back around and slapping at his bare chest. ¡°Is that not fuckin¡¯ obvious?¡±


    ¡°Well, it does not do to assume these things, especially where demons are concerned,¡± Prince Mylo said, and Chad blinked. After what he¡¯d learned from Ruby, he had to admit, that was¡­ probably true. ¡°As you already heard, I am Mylo Placido Rosenfeld, and this is my companion and bodyguard¡­¡±


    ¡°Alfonso Bartolomei,¡± the young knight supplied, and Chad looked back and forth between the pair.


    ¡°Mylo and Alfonso, eh?¡± he repeated, smirking. Those were definitely some fantasy-ass names. Sitting up and crossing his arms, Chad asked, ¡°Alright. So, what happens now?¡±


    ¡°Now?¡± Prince Mylo asked.


    ¡°Yeah, now that I¡¯m awake and not about to keel over.¡± Finally meeting the prince¡¯s eyes again, Chad held up his right arm, showing off the shackle that hadn¡¯t been removed, the one that came bundled with his transformation into a demon. ¡°Is this the part where you try to nicely and politely talk me into becoming your magical servant? Tell me I ought to be grateful to you for sending your own personal bodyguard to rescue me from the archbishop, and in return I should offer you my pact?¡±


    ¡°N-no, no, nothing like that!¡± Prince Mylo said hastily, waving his hands. ¡°I have long felt the methods employed by Archbishop Havener and the temple of the Goddess towards your kind were much too extreme, even for demons. I want to extend my deepest apologies for whatever treatment you have endured during your time in the Empire.¡± Chad wanted to doubt his sincerity, but the young man really did look and sound genuinely sorry for him, which didn¡¯t exactly make Chad feel better.


    Well, okay, it kind of did. A little.


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Chad held a hand up to forestall and more overly enthusiastic apologies. ¡°So, you didn¡¯t have me delivered here because you wanted a demon of your own. Let¡¯s say I believe that. That only raises the obvious question: why did you bring me here? Why did you go to such great lengths to make sure you got to me before the archbishop could bind me?¡±


    Chad didn¡¯t want to sound ungrateful. Between waking up on the cold stone floor of a dungeon at the mercy of a man who saw him as an inhuman monster best used as a tool, and waking up here in this ridiculously comfortable bed, he knew which one he preferred, but that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t suspicious. Prince Mylo could just as easily turn out to be as cruel as the archbishop, but wrapped up in a much less obvious package. He couldn¡¯t afford to let his guard down.


    ¡°I suppose that is a fair question,¡± Prince Mylo said, nodding his head slowly. ¡°Would you not simply accept that I felt compelled out of the goodness of my heart and the spirit of the Goddess to help when I heard a rogue demon had been spotted rampaging through the lower districts?¡±


    ¡°Pffha!¡± Chad barked out a laugh, and the prince jerked back in surprise. ¡°Would I believe that a prince born and raised in a literal evil empire would help a lowly demon for absolutely no reason other than to be nice? Fat fucking chance!¡± Chad laughed derisively again, and Alfonso actually started to rise from his chair, but Prince Mylo placed a hand on his shoulder, easing him back down. Good, because Chad wasn¡¯t finished yet.


    ¡°In fact, I¡¯d be surprised if anyone in this entire city has ever had a kind thought in their life! Your ¡®goddess¡¯ is super racist and that archbishop is fucking creepy, and everyone seems to think that¡¯s normal!¡± Chad scoffed, throwing his hands into the air. ¡°And don¡¯t even get me started on the beastkin! They get treated about as bad as demons do, but the only one who¡¯s shown me even an ounce of compassion was that bull guy and his family! So, no, I don¡¯t believe you helped me for any reason other than because there¡¯s something you want from me.¡±


    Chad was out of breath and panting by the time he finished, and actually thought he could see steam rising off of his skin as he slumped back into the bed.


    Turning away, Prince Mylo walked towards the row of enormous windows currently covered by thin red curtains, pushing one of them aside to peer out at the city beyond.


    ¡°An¡­ evil empire¡­¡± The prince spoke absently, pressing his hand up against the glass. ¡°Funny, how simple these things can seem, when looked at through fresh eyes. For my entire life, I have been told that the Fulminous Empire is the one, true noble nation in the world and that my very blood carries the will of the Goddess of Love and War. That every action we take in pursuit of power and territory is justified, because the other nations of the world refuse to heed the true word of the gods¡­¡±


    The hand he had pressed to the glass curled into a fist.


    ¡°And yet, I found myself doubting. It was one thing, at first, a tiny, little thing, but one that I knew in my heart, fundamentally, to be wrong, and from that moment I couldn¡¯t help but begin to question everything I¡¯d ever been told. I began to notice the¡­ problems, many of them the very things you¡¯ve just detailed, and started to ponder how I might fix them, give enough time and power.¡±


    Sighing, Prince Mylo turned back around, motioning towards Chad.


    ¡°And then you, a demon, an invading entity from another realm said to only crave chaos, sits up in my bed and decries the entire Empire evil, as though it were as plain as the nose on my face,¡± he said, chuckling and running a hand slowly through his hair. ¡°Either what they say is true, and I have had that last of my good judgement completely corrupted by your wicked influence, or it truly is just as I had begun to fear many years ago; this Empire is evil.¡±


    Huh¡­ Well, now that was interesting¡­


    ¡°If you have been corrupted, My¡­ my prince, then so have I,¡± Alfonso finally spoke up, rising out of his seat and turning to face the prince. ¡°The demon¡¯s words ring true to me as well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad I could point out the obvious for you¡­¡± Chad said dryly, scooting to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs forward, letting his hooves dangle above the floor. ¡°Well, I can tell you¡¯re buttering me up for something, and it¡¯s gotta be big with that much flowery language behind it, so hit me.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, of course,¡± Prince Mylo said, stepping away from the window, placing himself beside Alfonso again. ¡°You had the right of it the first time; I did not rescue you out of the goodness of my heart, but that is not to say that I would not have done so, given the opportunity.¡± Chad rolled his eyes at that, and the prince frowned. ¡°Okay, perhaps¡­ I would have considered doing so¡­ Regardless, it just so happens that¡­ you may be the only person in the entire Empire that can help us.¡±


    ¡°¡®Us?¡¯¡± Chad asked, and Prince Mylo nodded, reaching over and grabbing one of Alfonso¡¯s gauntleted hands, slipping his thin, delicate fingers between the other man¡¯s large, leather and mail-covered own.


    ¡°Yes. I wish that I could say it is simply because we have had our eyes opened to the true nature of this place, as you say, but in truth our dissatisfaction with the Empire has much simpler, more selfish roots,¡± Prince Mylo explained, and Chad felt his eyebrows climbing up his forehead and his eyes widening. When Alfonso, the taller of the pair, tilted his head down so that he and the prince could meaningfully lock eyes, Chad threw his hands up in front of him.


    ¡°Hey, woah, time out!¡± he shouted, instinctively placing his hands in the T-shaped signal. ¡°Get a fuckin¡¯ room, I¡¯m sitting right here!¡±


    The pair broke off their stare, but remained clasped at the hand, and Prince Mylo furrowed his brow, looking around at the expansive bedroom.


    ¡°This¡­ is my room?¡± he said, sounding confused, and Chad groaned and rubbed at one of his temples.


    ¡°I mean don¡¯t just start making out in front of me!¡±


    ¡°Making¡­ out?¡± Alfonso chimed in, and Chad ground his teeth. Did they seriously not get it?


    ¡°You know? Swapping spit? Tongue punching each other¡¯s throats?¡± When neither of them seemed to catch on, Chad sighed again. ¡°Kissing! I¡¯m saying don¡¯t just start smooching right in front of me!¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Alfonso said, looking rapidly back and forth from Chad to Prince Mylo. ¡°You mean¡­ elvish kissing?¡±


    What¡­


    ¡°We¡­ weren¡¯t going to?¡± Prince Mylo said, chuckling and shaking his head, patting Alfonso¡¯s breastplate with his free hand. ¡°I¡¯ll admit we got a little carried away there, but we weren¡¯t about to start engaging in intimacy here and now. But I¡¯m curious, what made you assume we were?¡±


    ¡°Well you¡¯re obviously gay, and¡­ and¡­¡± Chad trailed off, rapidly losing the head of steam he¡¯d been building up.


    And you¡¯re obviously overreacting.


    ¡°Fuck¡­¡± Chad hissed, dropping his head into his palm. It was so easy to fall back on what was familiar and comfortable, to default to what he¡¯d seen his father do and say a hundred times when he was younger, that he¡¯d done it without thinking, again.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry,¡± Chad said, forcing the word out like it caused him physical pain, ignoring the voice in his head that screamed at him that apologizing was a sign of weakness. ¡°That was¡­ not me. I¡¯ve kind of had the shittiest day of my entire life, here, so, sorry if I¡¯m a little¡­ prickly.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that you¡¯ve done anything requiring our forgiveness, but, apology accepted, Chad,¡± Prince Mylo said, at last untangling his fingers from Alfonso¡¯s. Chad sighed, tracing his fingers along his brow and around the outer edge of one of his horns.


    ¡°Right, yeah, let¡¯s just¡­ get back on track. So, that¡¯s your beef with the Empire?¡± Chad asked, pointing between the pair. ¡°You two got some kind of forbidden romance going on, and if anyone finds out you¡¯re gay you¡¯ll get executed, or exiled, or some shit like that?¡±


    Again, Chad was met with two blank faced stares.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not certain I know the meaning of that word you keep using,¡± Prince Mylo said, tapping a finger against his chin in thought. ¡°Or what you mean when you say we have ¡®beef.¡¯ I suppose you could say the difficulties between me and Alfonso are of a forbidden nature.¡±


    ¡°Gay? It means you¡¯re guys that like other guys,¡± Chad said bluntly, figuring it was just easier to spell things out with these two.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Prince Mylo said, his face lighting up with comprehension, before his brow furrowed again. ¡°Do you mean, one who prefers the company of men over women? Or prefers only men?¡±


    ¡°And why would either be cause for execution?¡± Alfonso asked, and Chad felt his own brows knitting together. He thought he¡¯d nailed the situation here, but if that wasn¡¯t the case¡­


    ¡°Are you telling me that¡¯s not why you two are unhappy with the Empire? That the Empire doesn¡¯t care that you¡¯re both guys?¡± Chad asked, and both Prince Mylo and Alfonso actually laughed at the idea, which in turn left Chad even more confused.


    ¡°Are you¡­ are you joking?¡± Alfonso asked.


    ¡°Is that a demon thing?¡± Prince Mylo asked right after.


    ¡°Well then if that¡¯s not it, what¡¯s forbidden about your forbidden romance, huh?¡± Chad asked irritably, and Prince Mylo had the grace to stop chuckling.


    ¡°The fact that I am a prince, and Alfonso is merely my bodyguard,¡± Prince Mylo said, motioning back to the other man, who nodded.


    ¡°Oooooooooh¡­¡± Chad groaned, and felt like slapping himself. He¡¯d gotten so caught up on¡­ the other thing that he forgot about class barriers, and now he felt like an idiot. ¡°That¡­ makes sense, actually¡­ Yeah, that¡¯s just as dumb.¡±


    ¡°That is, in fact, the reason we first began to feel the Empire had lost touch with the Goddess¡¯s true word,¡± Prince Mylo said, waving one arm towards the window. ¡°We are meant to revere the Goddess of Love and War above all, and she teaches that all love is sacred. Why, then, is it forbidden for those of differing social standing to marry? Why, then, can even a prince, one of Her Blood, not choose who he truly wishes to spend the rest of his life with?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no, I¡­ I get that,¡± Chad said, scrunching his face a little and hunching his shoulders. Now, it seemed like he was the one who needed everything spelled out, but with that added context, the prince¡¯s plight made perfect sense.


    There was just one question that still hadn¡¯t been answered.


    ¡°So, really, why did you go through all the trouble of bringing me here?¡±


    Prince Mylo and Alfonso exchanged another glance, and Chad found himself wondering if they could actually communicate telepathically or something. He waited for several moments as they deliberated silently between themselves, until finally Alfonso nodded, and Prince Mylo nodded back.


    ¡°I brought you here, Chad,¡± Prince Mylo began, standing up straighter, holding his head up high and folding his arms behind his back. ¡°Because I think we can both help each other.¡±


    Chad sat up on the edge of the bed at that, cocking an eyebrow.


    ¡°You need my help?¡± he asked, giving a little chuckle. ¡°Oh, I can¡¯t wait to hear this.¡±


    One last knowing look passed between the prince and his bodyguard, and Prince Mylo took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and spoke.


    ¡°I need you to help me fake my death via failed demon binding, so that we might flee the Empire,¡± Prince Mylo said, his voice firm and full of conviction.


    ¡°What,¡± Chad said flatly, and Mylo placed a hand over his chest.


    ¡°Well, as you yourself experienced, I am quite capable of defending myself, but a rogue demon is one of the most dangerous creatures in the world, worse than a monster, because they can think, and plan.¡± He motioned towards Chad again. ¡°That is why a demon binding gone wrong is the only possible danger that I could be exposed to that could realistically end in my death. It would certainly not raise many eyebrows, when the story gets out.¡±


    Having seen how most people responded to his presence as a demon, Chad couldn¡¯t help but agree.


    ¡°In exchange for your help, I will arrange a place for you on the same ship that will be smuggling myself and Alfonso out. After that, if you wish, we may part ways entirely, and you will be free to do as you please.¡±


    Chad¡¯s eyebrows shot up, and he tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. He continued to lean back, until he flopped back onto the bed, for once utterly at a loss for words. The offer was, in a sense, perfect, no less than exactly what he needed. He didn¡¯t doubt that without the prince¡¯s help, finding another way off of what was apparently an island would prove exceptionally difficult. It sounded like they already had all of the particulars worked out, so all he would need to do was follow along, and he¡¯d have a one way ticket out of this shithole empire, and then he¡¯d be free to do whatever the hell he wanted, free to¡­.


    To what? If he had free rein to do whatever he wanted, what would he be doing, right now?


    Looking for a way back home, obviously!


    Right. That made sense. He wasn¡¯t supposed to be here, that much was painfully obvious. He had a life back on Earth, friends and family and things he wanted to do with that life. In the less-than-a-day that he¡¯d been here, Chad had been pursued like an animal for hours, captured, imprisoned, fed rat meat, passed out twice, and generally put through the ringer. And, lest he forget, he wasn¡¯t even human anymore! Obviously, there should be nothing he wanted more than to get home.


    There was nothing he wanted more than to get home, right?


    Red eyes stared at him through a curtain of white hair. A red, four-fingered hand, held up to the light with a heavy shackle clamped to its wrist. A single green eye, soft and sorrowful before a fist is driven into his gut. A cherubic face stares up with devotion at a man with no heart.


    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Chad said, clearing his throat and lazily shrugging his shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ll help. Not like I got anything to lose.¡±


    Prince Mylo¡¯s face brightened, and he turned excitedly towards Alfonso, who had finally stopped looking at Chad with poorly disguised mistrust.


    ¡°But,¡± Chad said, holding up a hand before the pair could start celebrating. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ one other condition I have¡­¡±


    ¡°Name it,¡± Prince Mylo said, smiling at Chad in a way that made him feel an indescribable mix of emotions, until he shook his head and looked away.


    Chad steeled himself, took a deep breath, and stated his condition.


    ¡°We kill the archbishop on our way out.¡±