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Clive was deep in thought when he heard a knock at the door. That was probably Russel back with lunch. Clive wasn’t sure why he was knocking. Maybe his hands were full. Sighing, he put down his book, and opened the door.
It was not Russel. It was a woman with light reddish hair and pale skin. She was wearing Magic Society robes, but he had never seen her before. He would definitely have noticed someone like her walking around. Neither feature was common in Greenstone. He wondered if this was the friend Jason had mentioned.
“Are you Clive Standish?” She asked.
“Yes,” he said, reaching out his hand. “Are you by chance Farrah Huron?”
In lieu of an answer, she gave him a shove with so much force he was knocked backwards to the floor.
“What is wrong with you?” She shouted at him. Clive pushed himself up on his elbows, staring silently up at the woman who was much more intimidating with glowing red eyes and an aura like magma pressing down on him. He wasn’t actually injured, thanks to the ritual Russel had done on the floor weeks earlier, after the fifth ceramic mug Clive had knocked over, but he had never been attacked by a total stranger before. He had no idea what his reaction should be. He quickly scanned back through his interactions with Jason, to see if he had said anything to warrant such a greeting. He didn’t think so. He knew he wasn’t a great judge of such things, but their outing seemed to go well.
Was this about the loot money Jason had split with him? Was she expecting a cut of his earnings? He didn’t think he could reasonably be blamed for that. He did try to give it back, after all. Was she romantically interested in Jason, and making sure he didn’t try to compete with her? If that was the case, she should have been able to ease any worries by simply looking at Clive, then in a mirror. Was he supposed to have stayed with Jason after lunch, and worked in the dumpling restaurant? Was that a common outworlder custom? He didn’t think it was fair to accost someone for rudeness without first letting them know the behavior would be rude, but a lifetime of experience told him he was alone in that opinion.
She must have seen the sheer confusion on his face, because her next battle cry was more informative.
“Why would you tell Jason his body was the same thing as a monster’s?!”
Ah. Right. The accidental revelation about what it meant to be an outworlder. He had known as soon as the words left his mouth that they had impacted Jason in unexpected ways. In retrospect, it was obvious that it would be a sensitive topic. He thought he had smoothed things over though, when he went into depth about how having a soul to anchor the body to reality stabilized the entire construct. Jason had, at least, seemed fine the entire way back.
“Technically,” Clive said, trying to pacify the lava woman in front of him, “what I said was that his soul manifested a new body using ambient magic. He was the one who compared it to a monster, which I corrected.”
That may not have been the best response. She bent down to grab him by the collar, and pulled him up until he was level with her face. It was an odd angle, since even on his knees he was the same height as her.
“I was keeping that from him for a reason,” she said through gritted teeth. “Do you have any idea how much time he spends worried he’s turning into a monster anyways, with powers like his? And then some stranger just goes and tells him he’s right?”
Clive felt indignity rising up in him at that. Based on her reaction, he assumed she was equally unaware of outworlder physiology. Finding out that she not only knew, but was intentionally lying to Jason the entire time, was a whole different playing field. Clive got his feet under him, and rose up to full height.
“If you didn’t want some stranger telling him,” Clive said, “then you should have told him yourself. He has a right to learn about the world. Or were you planning on following him around for the rest of his life and covering his ears any time someone starts to say anything you don’t approve of?”
Farrah glared at him, and he glared back. His aura control wasn’t the best, but it was enough to keep him upright despite what was clearly her best efforts. Besides, this was a stance he would defend at any cost. He squared his shoulders and crossed his arms, firmly planted on the side of accurate information.
Several seconds passed, then something in her expression changed. He felt her aura retract to a polite distance.
“I guess that’s fair,” she said. “I suppose he was bound to find out sooner or later. I just wasn’t prepared to find him crying in his room like that.”
Oh. That made sense. Clive felt the righteous indignation fade away. He probably should have been more diligent about checking on Jason. He had gotten so distracted with the terror and excitement of completing his first contract in over a decade that he had probably missed some important social cues. Farrah’s reaction suddenly didn’t seem quite so excessive.
“I didn’t realize he was crying,” he said.
“Yeah, well, that probably wasn’t your fault,” she replied. “He isn’t big on letting people know how he feels. He has a harder time hiding it from me, because I’ve been teaching him aura control.” She didn’t seem at all angry anymore, but was still holding the collar of Clive’s robes, albeit in a much looser grip. He looked down at her hand and debated whether he should ask her to let go. On the one hand, looming over her like this made him feel like a delta heron snagged on a fishing net. On the other hand, he didn’t exactly mind the proximity. Now that she wasn’t shouting at him, anyways.
Her eyes followed his, and she did not let go, but her expression shifted as she adjusted her hold on him. Her hand slid upwards to the side of his neck, and her fingertips began playing with the ends of his hair.
“You know,” she said, “you’re the first iron ranker around here I’ve met who would stand up to a Bronze like that.”
Clive felt his pulse rate rising against her palm. He had somewhat of a reputation for being oblivious to romantic overtures, but he was almost certain she wanted him to kiss her. The idea baffled him, but he had read somewhere that arguments could be sexually arousing to certain people. Perhaps she was one of them. He was unsure how to react, however. Passion was not his area of expertise. Furthermore, If he was wrong about her intentions, he risked developing a new reputation; one more similar to the Director’s. He decided to play it safe, and pretend not to notice.
“Standing up to those of superior rank would be a reasonable summary of most of my job duties,” he replied. His voice came out sounding slightly breathless. He swallowed, and tried again.
“I’ve had bronze rank officials order me to put gold spirit coins into the iron-rank magical carriages to make them ‘go faster,’ so I had to develop that skill out of sheer self-preservation.”
“Oh, is that so?” Farrah was extremely close now. He decided there was no longer any possibility he was reading the situation incorrectly. Her hand had fully encircled his head, and her mouth was rapidly approaching his own. He barely had time to dart his tongue out to moisten his lips before hers were upon them.
They were soft, and much warmer than he was expecting. He wondered if her natural temperature was higher due to having an aura ability from the volcano essence. She tasted faintly like the fruit punch Jason had carried with him through the delta. She must have left his room and marched straight here. The last thing he had consumed was a hot tea with milk earlier that morning. He hoped he didn’t have stale tea breath. Belatedly, he remembered he was supposed to be kissing back. He tried to match her movements. His mind wouldn’t stop firing questions at him. Should he open his mouth? Was she expecting that? Did she want him to use tongue? He genuinely didn’t see the appeal in having someone else’s saliva in his own mouth, but he was willing to try if it meant she kept pressing herself up against him like that. Unless it had the opposite effect. Was she the type of person who would also find it gross? She was from Vitesse. That was a fairly elegant city. Maybe she preferred a more elegant kissing style?
Then his mind latched on to the more pertinent detail in that tangent. Vitesse. She was only here on a brief visit. He tried to push the thought away and get back to the kissing, but it kept buzzing around like a wetland pixie. Reluctantly, he pulled back.
“Wait,” Clive panted. “You live in Vitesse. Are you planning on transferring to Greenstone?”
“Gods, no. I’ll be out of this place as soon as I finish the job I was hired for. However shall I spend my time until then?” She leaned back in, but he turned his head.
“I can’t transfer to Vitesse,” he told her. I’m an official here, and I have family nearby.”
She gave him a confused look.
“I wasn’t expecting you to. I was just looking for a bit of fun,” she said.
“I see.” That hurt more than he was anticipating. “I don’t find this to be very fun.”
“Yeah, I’m realizing that.” She extricated herself from him, and looked awkwardly at the wall behind him.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he said. “I promise I won’t bring this up again. Jason mentioned you were an array specialist. What are your thoughts on possible ways to construct monster detection perimeters in low-magic zones like the delta?
She maintained her careful study of the brickwork for a few more seconds, then launched into a monologue on the pros and cons of layered rituals. That led into a lively debate over the best plants to incorporate into an ambient landscaping garden. And THAT led to the discovery that they had both come from farming communities, originally, and had been the first ones in their families to receive essences.
Clive decided he liked Farrah. She was devastatingly intelligent, incredibly pragmatic, and didn’t waste much effort on subtlety. Clearly, they were looking for vastly different things in regards to romance, but she would be a good friend to have. And Clive needed friends in his life.