Chp 34: A Nice Chat (Patreon)

Waiting at the town gate I did my best not to be noticed by the frolicking skeletons. Like with the staff parties I felt like showing up would be intruding on their ability to enjoy themselves freely. Thinking about it though I didn’t really have anyone else to talk to aside from the hounds most of the time. The number of people I could potentially speak with had increased but most of my relationships were work-related.

It really was no wonder that I wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Worse was the fact that I didn’t generally ‘learn’ about the world in an organic manner. Between gaining knowledge via exchanges and looking it up my grasp of the world was Wikipedia binge level uneven. Talking to Elim and Mira had filled in some blanks, but I hadn’t been as forthcoming as I should have been about my ignorance. 

I didn’t even know if the moons above me had formal names. The missing fact struck me as funny and I smiled, knowing I needed to be better. It was like the problem with the temple I’d built being an art piece instead of something substantial built up from research. So long as it was just an aesthetic piece to decorate the valley, it was fine. The moment it needed to be put to use, its flaws and by extension mine own were revealed.

Brooding over if I should expand my to-do list or start a new academic one, I didn’t notice someone walking up softly from behind me. 

“M-Mistress?” Henry said, a hand laid on my shoulder. I jumped up nearly a yard into the air, orbs blazing in surprise.

“Hahaha, s-sorry,” He said apologetically. I floated down immediately, my hand reaching for but hesitating just shy of touching his face. The mirror’s image of him I’d seen had been at his peak and I’d expected him to look a bit different from that idealized version. I hadn’t expected an enormous scar over this left eye that had almost certainly blinded him in life. Seeing its sunburst like design I’d been shocked, knowing it had to have been the result of branding or a similar method of scarification. One I doubted had been voluntary.

“Apologies,” I said awkwardly. My hand was still hovering in front of me but thankfully not as close to him.

“I-its f-fine,” He said and guided my hand to his face. I felt stupid, even if I did touch him, I wouldn’t be able to feel anything. Despite that where his hand touched mine, I felt a warmth I usually had to bathe in lava to experience. When my hand laid against his face, I could feel the slick expanse of scar tissue contrasting with healthy skin.

It was such a bizarre thing to feel something after so long that I traced the design with my finger tips. Enraptured by the simple pleasure normally denied to me I didn’t even notice that Henry was looking at me solemnly until the end. Like Christopher and the others, his eyes were the color of the flames produced by the jewels in his eye sockets. They were sapphire blue, darker in the center with sooty rings around the iris.

“I usually can’t feel things like skin,” I said, sounding puzzled and awed to my own ears. I should have felt embarrassed by my behavior, but I wasn’t. I didn’t have the spare mental resources for it. Henry smiled and I actually looked at his face and registered it properly for the first time. I was glad I could see in the dark perfectly, otherwise, I’d have missed out on seeing the gentle warmth I’d inferred in his mental voice.

He’d looked like he was in his early twenties in the mirror. He didn’t look that much older now but hard-worn. There was a streaky peppering of grey in the curly black hair he’d pulled back in a loose ponytail beneath his large black hat and etched frown lines around his mouth. It was the face of someone who’d lived a stressful life and died young. 

“I-It’s an-an ill-illusion. The-ere’s n-nothing t-to fe-feel,” Henry said, looking away from me with a blush of embarrassment.

“Dawn mentioned it didn’t change how things felt for her. It only tricks the viewer's mind… Oh! That’s what it is, it’s a mental effect so I feel it even though I can’t actually,” I said as realization washed over me. 

“I-I s-s-see,” Henry said, surprised but smiling. I felt a burst of joy as the possibilities for this little loophole washed over me. I was going to have to have fun decking out my chamber of machinations with all manner of things draped in illusion so I could feel them.

“M-Mistress, I-I be-believe Brun is-s w-waiting,” Henry said gently. That was enough to snap me out of my exited bouncy hovering in place.

“Right! We should head over,” I said with false enthusiasm. I was grateful that he’d reminded me. Unfortunately, my mind was spinning out ideas for selfish lifestyle improvements, not Brun’s smithy.

Henry nodded then removed his hat and bowed to me. I felt a fluttering shock between my shoulders witnessing the familiar gesture. I was a moment late to return a courtesy before accepting his offered arm. I didn’t think he’d be Mina’s type anymore since he’d lost the more boyish charms he’d had in the mirror. He was more mature-looking now and I realized belatedly that I found him handsome once I stopped fixating on the scar.

He’d changed his outfit during the time we’d been apart. He was wearing a long black waistcoat with blue rose over a crossed needle and sword embroidered on the right breast. This went over a dark blue shirt with puffy sleeves with jabot. Black pants, boots, and a half cape that covered his left side but left his right sword arm free rounded out his clothes. 

Taking it all in I realized that having chosen to wear the rose in my hair, we matched. The feeling between my shoulders spread out like rippled in a pond to every point of my body from the tips of my hair to the end of my tail. I had no idea what to make of it, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. 

If Henry noticed anything while it happened, he didn’t say. Instead, he escorted me through the town over to the cliffside. Brun was waiting there next to her shop and gave a fist to forehead salute in the fashion of her people. Henry and I unlinked arms. I returned her gesture and he did as well before bowing.

“Mistress,” Brun said happily. fist to forehead in a salute of sorts. 

“Brun, this is a nice place,” I said as I looked at the area. There was a gap between the location of her smithy and the edge of town, but I liked how the raw faces of the cliff looked.

“I like it too, sorry for troubling you to put it out here. I just felt its original placement was…Well, the towns rather human-oriented,” Brun said then shrugged.

“Not that I have a problem with humans or anything,” She added, glancing toward Henry. He gave her a wry smile and shook his head.

“I-Its bo-boreing i-if i-its all all th-the s-s-same,” Henry said, and they shared a nod.

Looking back toward the town I cringed a little. Since I’d been doing the design work and placements it probably did have a very human sensibility to it.

“I don’t have any real dwarven design knowledge. I was human before, so I’ll be relying on you,” I admitted.  I wasn't sure what should be the difference outside of things like bench heights and what not. Dwarves were shorter than humans by an average of two feet and stouter in build, but that’s all I really knew. The encyclopedia entry on them was limited to a few fun facts and a blurb describing them as master smiths with a gold addiction.

Brun nodded and spent a few minutes looking her shop over in silent contemplation. She’d been quick to point out technical requirements in the dungeon but not aesthetics. I hoped that she felt comfortable doing that now that we’d talked about it. I was also going to need to revisit the other races and see if they’d also been reluctant to make requests.

“I’d like something recessed into the stone slope of the valley,” Brun said, gesturing at a relatively smooth cliff face. I could have just put the smithy directly into it but instead, I opened up a void with the same footprint two feet behind the surface. I made a stamp of the original façade and used it in relief mode so that the windows and other elements were cut in.

“Do you want living quarters above, behind, or to the side?” I asked. Most of the skeleton humans had opted for a live-work arrangement quickly. The other races hadn’t decided that aspect for the most part.

“Above if I may,” Burn replied. I created another story above the smithy

With the rough spacing established it was time for a walkthrough and adjustments. Brun muttered to herself as we inspected the space. Her first request was to make a separate unconnected space where the smithy proper would go. She cited fire and noxious fume hazards as the reason and I just nodded, glad she knew this kind of stuff. The area under the working quarters would be the salesroom. The living space above would be accessed through the store via a door at the back of it.

I created a stone staircase leading to a second-story landing. This resulted in a small space behind the structure. It felt claustrophobic to me and had all of the appeal of a back alley. A thought that would probably seem a bit funny coming from someone who literally designed underground stone labyrinths.

“This seems like a tight space to me. Is that your preference, or would it be alright to open it up a bit?” I asked. I didn’t want to offend but I also didn’t trust my imported concept of dwarven architecture being limited to intricately carved stone vaults.

“No, I’d welcome it really,” Brun assured me.

“Do you remember much about your original life?” I asked, feeling awkward but wanting to know. If she did and talked about it then it might get what she wanted across faster than us going feature by feature.

“Bits and pieces, they started coming back to me after the upgrades you gave me. It was odd at first. I’d never had them before, but I’ve come to enjoy remembering things,” Brun said, sounding cheerful. I really wished I could see her facial expressions rather than get a vague notion of what she was feeling as she spoke. Her illusion of life was its own process though and would have to wait.

“You said you used to be human before. Do you remember that life as well?” Brun asked to my surprise. It was a perfectly reasonable question, but I floundered for several moments. 

“I don’t actually remember anything about my life per se. I know things, I can imagine places, but none of its personal,” I told Brun.

“You’re like us then. I like it this way. If I remembered people, I’d have cause to miss them rather than just feel nostalgic about scenery from home,” Brun said and gave me a pat on the back with her thick boned hand.

“That’s good,” I said, relieved but not sure how to feel otherwise. If I couldn’t change something yet I tried not to think about it too much, but I’d be lying if I said my incomplete memory was ever far from my mind. 

“I take it you don’t feel quite the same,” She said, sounding a little amused.

“Most of the time I don’t think about it since I can’t do anything about it,” I said uncomfortably. I wanted but failed to find the right words to describe the emotion it evoked and that left a bitter feeling. Brun waited patiently for me to continue which I didn’t catch onto immediately. It was only Henry making a quiet cough that shook me out of my contemplative fugue.

“I can live with it… It just worries me sometimes. Like, am I really making the best decisions that I can? Or is there something in the missing bits that would let me make better ones?” I admitted. Not dwelling on what I couldn’t change was my general approach to life. Unfortunately, while it let me carry on, it didn’t fix anything.

“You’d probably be worrying the same thing for a different reason even if you did. It’s not unusual to worry about what you don’t know,” Brun assured me, and I could only nod. She had a good point, though I didn’t think it would stop me worrying. Having perspective about it wasn’t going to hurt me though and I smiled at her.

“I think we got a little off-topic,” I said. I knew I was blatantly changing tracks, but I didn’t mind that Brun and Henry wouldn’t be fooled.

“If you don’t mind talking about your past I’d like to hear about where you lived before. I think we’ll be able to come up with a more cohesive design that way,” I said, and Brun nodded. I took a charcoal pencil and some paper out of my inventory and offered them to her. 

“My clan lived in a great outcropping of stone on the edge of the sand sea,” Brun said, sketching a butte rising from a desert plain.

“It looked solid, but it had a hollow center and we faced our homes and workshops to it to let in air and light. We also grew food in it but tried to make it look aesthetic. A lot of pergolas and statues, I really loved that space,” Brun said, and I needed a moment to process. It was a sharp contrast to how my world portrayed there living conditions, but I welcomed it. The idea of it was enchanting and I enjoyed the sketches she was making to illustrate what she meant.

“Okay, then we could expand this area to accommodate a garden. Since there’s space instead of just stairs and a landing, a balcony would fit,” I said and started placing tiles. I could create something like a cave with an opening at the top to let some light and air in. 

“Do you like a lot of sunlight, darkness, or shade? Also, do you want consistent airflow?” I asked excitedly.

“I can see in the dark, but I like soft natural light most of the time and shade during the hotter parts of the day,” Brun said, sounding pleased. Once all the rough spaces were in place I started bringing in the equipment from the old design and placing it at her request.

“If you want, I can leave you some charcoal sticks and you can draw in the decorations you want yourself and I’ll carve them out later,” I said as we finished. After placing in the larger furniture and equipment she’d had me put the smaller tool down on the workbenches. She’d be arranging those and the living areas herself.

“I’d like that,” Brun said enthusiastically.

“Alright, just text me when you’re ready for me to drop by or if you want different supplies. I’m not opposed if you want to do things yourself,” I said with a smile. I was used to doing all the aesthetic work in the dungeon myself, but I realized that wasn’t necessarily the best way to approach the town now. The skeletons and the inhabitants that would follow should be able to make their own marks on it too.

“Until then, Mistress,” Brun said and saluted me. I returned the gesture and after she and Henry said goodbye, he offered me his arm once more.

“Lead on sir,” I said, feeling playful. He was always polite to me, but his manners were different from what I was used to.

“Y-Yes,” He replied with a nod. He was tanned but even so, he blushed hard enough for it to show. I looked away, a little embarrassed myself but happy that I’d upgraded the illusion to the max setting. The idea of missing out on all the fun details of his expressions was an unpleasant one now that I’d had a chance to see them.

Rather than heading back toward the mine, Henry was going back into the town. I was surprised at first but then realized that he might have taken my words as an invitation to take me somewhere of his choosing. I had to bite back a laugh. Despite all the skeletons and I being able to understand each other generally, there were still choices of phrases that could trip us up.

I accepted Henry being my guide and enjoyed him showing me the town and getting to chat with everyone. Despite my worry about interrupting the fun they all seemed to be fairly nonplussed by my presence. Most called out a hello or invited us over, but no one seemed to feel they had to drop what they were doing or behave more politely. 

“Y-you sh-should j-join us us m-m-more,” Henry said as we finally turned back to the path toward the mine entrance.

“I’ll try to be more sociable,” I said though I wasn’t going to promise how much.

“Also, I should have said it earlier, but you look handsome. I’m also terribly jealous of your skills with a needle,” I added the last bit as I reached over to tap the crest he’d embroidered. That he was using the design I’d come up with made me feel a little too pleased with myself, but he really was skilled.

“You were a warrior when I summoned you, but I get the feeling you were a tailor by day and a chivalrous thief by night or something,” I said then chuckled. He had always given me a nebulous feeling not exactly of nobility but of the more esoteric chivalry of stories and legends that real knights so often failed to live up to. I was almost certainly completely biased about it since he was always polite and kind to me, but I didn't let that bother me.

“N-nothing so-so gr-grand,” Henry said, looking away.

“My-my f-family w-were art-artisan’s. I-I wa-wasn’t sk-skilled e-enough th-though. M-my fa-fa-fa… My f-father s-sent me-me to be-became a so-solider i-instead,” he continued shyly. I stopped moving and after pulling me long a bit he realized I wasn’t floating of my own accord and looked back at me.

“The things you make are beautiful,” I said bluntly. If he’d been surrounded by and likely initially apprenticed to creatives, then it explained his multitude of artistic skills. It didn’t explain his family sending him off to become a soldier. 

“T-Thank y-you,” Henry said, glancing up at the flower in my hair before looking away.

“I-I’ve re-really en-enjoyed my-my t-time he-here. M-more th-than m-my o-old life,” he added. I nodded, finding the sentiment touching and incredibly sad at the same time.

“I’m sorry that’s true,” I said only half-jokingly. I slipped my arm from his to give him a hug around the shoulders. It was a common gesture in my old world, but I wasn’t sure if I was trying to comfort him or myself. When it came to his former life I didn’t know enough to speculate. Even so, I couldn’t shake how much he’d tripped up on the word father. 

“But I’ll keep working to make this place enjoyable,” I added. I’d never experienced the kind of hate he’d once described to me, but I did have a small list of people I’d murder given even ten percent of a chance. His father was now on it along with the King of Strom holt, Dr. Satan, and Andria’s father.