Origami_Narwhal

  Discussions of bodily dysphoria and euphoria.

  [colpse]

  Do I even want to make sense of this?

  It's just a little open air meeting, really. Like how they do their politics in Ard Judicia, just with less stairs and duels, and therefore a lot more boring.

  So, no. I do not want to care about this.

  “Now I don't mean to offend, my lord, but we all know that keeping portals open is bad luck,” someone calls out, their voice rough and heavy. “Pray to Elluvial every day, I do, and she don't like the unnatural.”

  Perfectly civil, and surprisingly verbose. Of course it's about the Delve, why wouldn't it be?

  Winston clears his throat again, cutting off a handful of others that start to speak up. “I don't do this by choice, as I've said before. One of the Mages we hired in years past did a poor job of sealing this one—”

  “There's our Dame, right there! And the Padin!”

  “Can't they seal it now?”

  “Of course they can!”

  They shout a dozen other things besides, a blend of asking for blessings and demanding answers. It's all muddied noise, in the end.

  Gods save me, though. Now that they're focused on us, I'll have to do the sensible thing: leave. Ideally in the direction of a bath.

  ...Maybe with a snack along the way, something sweet. Definitely that, actually.

  Can I just give Winnie a nod, say something appropriate to make his task easier, then walk away? I cast my mind back to the days before I started ignoring the tutors, when I still cared for the idea of ruling.

  All I get is a vague memory of my mother expining taxed income. Bah. I turn to look toward Verity, clear my throat, and—

  A fsh of instinct demands I move, and even as I’m flinching, I realize it’s Verity’s hand reaching toward me. Gods, I guess I’m not quite out of the mindset of a Delve, am I? Unbothered, Verity rests her fingers against my pauldron, one after the other. She nods, smiling; while I can see there's a message carried in the glint of her eyes, I can't read it.

  Hopefully it's an offer to deal with this. Every moment I spend here is a moment not spent eating or enjoying a nice bath.

  “It is wonderful to see people so concerned with the state of their city. There's no better way to make sure things get done properly!” She ughs, bright to the point of blinding as always. “Mm. But I'm sure we'll have a better go of it if I organize things. Lord Craumont, do you mind if I take it from here?”

  Winston blinks owlishly. Helena swallows, and it's only now that I see the genuine heat in her eyes. Burning cogs grinding away, but for what reason?

  “You may, Padin Greyfeather,” he says evenly, smiling back.

  “Thank you, my lord,” Verity says, her voice dipping almost imperceptibly when she says my lord. “So, let's start from the first thing I heard! You there, in the straw hat and red shawl, you called it bad luck?”

  “Uh,” they stumble on their words, shuffling as attention swivels to them. “Well, that's just the truth, y-your grace.”

  “Verity is fine, but ‘Madam’ works too if you'd prefer,” Verity carries on. She turns to me suddenly, nudging me openly with her elbow. Oh no. “Dame Crawford, you're leading this expedition. Is it worth a little bad luck?”

  As she speaks, more and more of the pza focuses on her. The blind turn their ears as the sighted stare; her voice is loud but warm, and even if I can tell it’s forced, it’s hard to tear my own eyes off her.

  I gre back, tail curling around to tap the back of her boot. Her hand finally lifts from my shoulder. “Yes. It needs better sealing.”

  “Then I'll ask my Goddess to lend us her aid and keep our fortunes from darkening, simple as that. Elluvial may not be my patron, but I'm sure she'll look kindly upon us protecting the city,” she says, nodding twice. She turns back to the audience, then points to someone else. “Oh, you, eh, Restoration robes and the blonde hair. Could you remind me what your question was?”

  “I was worried that there was more... mischief, madam padin. While she is our Dame, you know that where she goes, problems—”

  She does a gesture at me, one I don’t quite understand.

  “You can go now,” she whispers. “Looks like they’re just going to compin about you and Delves.”

  Oh. Fantastic! Not the compining, but me leaving.

  I give Winston and Helena nods, then decide not to nod to the crowd. Best to make my escape quickly, and without any more nonsense. Bad luck from Delves? Absurd.

  Well, I suppose the monsters might count as bad luck, actually. With that in mind, I turn around, check the portal for fws— none, fortunately for my pride— and make for the nearest uncrowded alley. All the while, Verity’s melodious voice provides a pleasant underpinning to a bunch of questions I’m doing my best not to listen to.

  One thing does stand out, though. A faintly familiar cadence of steps, louder and louder as its source approaches. I turn just enough to look, and Helena’s eyes meet mine once again. Whatever fire burned in them before still smoulders.

  “It’s a good thing you didn’t come with us,” I say aloud, facing forward as my tail hovers awkwardly above the half-stone, half-dirt path of the alleyway. “First yer had a nasty fight.”

  “Um. Hello!” Helena scurries up next to me, her brow furrowed as she enters my vision. “And by dangerous, do you mean dangerous for you, or dangerous for me?”

  “Wouldn’t change the result,” I snort, then shake my head. “But, dangerous for you. It was fast, hit decently hard from what I could tell, and its marrow turned into more monsters. Bit tricky.”

  Exiting the alley, I take a moment to reorient before turning toward home. Helena follows, withdrawing a notebook from her ever-present bag. Her head bobs in the corner of my eye, a wave of messy hair and an expression I don’t quite catch. I can make a good guess at it, though.

  “Oh! That’s fascinating. I didn’t know monsters could do that! Is that any different from monsters that split or have, ah, amorphous forms?” Helena chatters along, picking up speed to match me once again.

  “It’s more annoying than fascinating, Helena,” I grumble, tugging her aside when a cluster of passerby comes too close. “Do you know how obnoxious those damned things are? Can’t bite them, can’t rip them up, I have to use loads of Wind for it. Bah!”

  Shaking my head, I wave the thoughts off as best I can. “Point is, eyes on the road, Helena. And yes, it’s different from amorphous monsters.”

  “How is that your point?” Helena giggles, tipping her notebook down. “But, um, yes, you’re right, sorry.”

  “I had to connect the two thoughts somehow, Lena,” I shrug, tail clicking along the ground. My lips twitch into a smile.

  The sounds of Craumont trickle in, changing and thickening as we approach the tracks. A carriage rumbles past, gossips murmur about far-off wars and close-by rumors, and more than a few people stop to stare at me. Rather than stare back, I look at something far more interesting: the buildings. The Wildflower District, surprisingly, doesn’t have as many houses done up in painted flowers. It just makes the ones that do stand out, like tufts of wilderness and beauty in an open field.

  ...like wildflowers. Hah!

  I’m freed from onlookers’ curiosity when a shrill whistle pierces the air— once, twice, thrice; a train announcing its arrival. Nudging Helena with my tail, we hurry across the tracks before the train arrives, leaving it to hiss, cnk, and obstinately meddle with traffic for everyone around us. I can even hear the crowing of a phoenix as it flutters about on fming wings, shouting at passerby who stand too close to the tracks.

  “Ah, how is it different, Ivy?” Helena says loudly, and my focus snaps back to the world as a whole. Hopefully she isn’t repeating herself. “And, um, how deep did you go?”

  “The difference is...” I pause for a moment, thinking over a handful of fights with both sorts of nonsense. “Amorphous monsters can be split and rejoin themselves. These marrow monsters turned a lot more solid, and didn’t turn into more monsters when we killed them.”

  A smell hits my nose. A delectable one, savory and salty and starchy. I change my path to account for this, steering toward a food stand. My hands go to my belt, feeling around for coin.

  “We went past the shallows to a depth of six hundred or so marches,” I add, once I remember her second question. Catching a glimpse of her notebook out of the corner of my eye, I sigh. “Also, if you’re going to keep writing instead of watching where you’re going, I’m going to stop answering questions.”

  “But it’s important!” Helena insists, cheeks flushing. She scribbles down something in her notebook, and reluctantly stows it. “And, um. No need, I’m done for now.”

  Snorting, I stride up to the colorful food stand and inspect its offerings— roast somethings on long sticks, suspended above a rusted metal pte that glows with Fire magic. It’s got a name, but I can’t for the life of me remember it. The stick-things are skewers, obviously, but is that the food, or just the sticks?

  Doesn’t matter. The blended aromas of onion, garlic, and gods knows what else are strong enough to make my mouth water. It's definitely enough to make my tail sway from side to side, though I have to be careful of any passerby.

  The purveyor is tall and nky, with small horns poking through curly hair and an inability to meet my gaze. They instead trail to a small wooden figurine— a hooded figure with eyes painted yellow. Sentos, probably? Whichever God is the God of Bounty, pretty sure.

  “W-we sell spewers, my dy,” they stutter out, then shake their head vigorously. “Skewers! R-roast vegetables and well-seasoned potatoes fresh from my wife's own stall.”

  I look at them, then follow their wavering gaze two marches to the right, where a burly and tanned woman is selling freshly farmed goods. One of many stalls along this street, certainly— due to the station’s proximity, I've no doubt this space gets countless visitors from near and far.

  I look back at the skewers. I reach out and pluck two off the rack, using my scales to ward off the heat. “How much?”

  They mumble out a price, and I pay it before looking at Helena. “Do you want one?”

  “Yes!” Helena says vigorously. “Um, yes, please. I haven't eaten since Benny's soup this morning. Skewers right off the hot pte sound amazing. Could I get two? Um. If that’s okay.”

  Oh, hot ptes. Makes sense.

  I pick up two more and pass them to Helena, then pay using the same hand. My other hand is busy holding my skewers, and I can't help but take a few bites.

  Salty, slightly peppery, very oniony and garlicky. Turnip, carrot, and firm but well-roasted potato make for an excellent combination!

  “Fanks,” I say around a mouthful of food, then swallow. “They're good.”

  The seller nods vigorously. “I'm pleased, m-my dy!”

  “Mm.”

  I turn back toward the manor and head off, Helena trailing in my wake. She's making an odd noise, something between a ugh and a snort.

  I'd investigate, but I'm eating, and that obviously takes priority.

  “Welcome back, Madams. The bath has already been prepared, though I'm afraid someone else is already taking advantage,” Benny greets us, bowing slightly. Their face is pcid, but years of experience have taught me to see their smile through the tiniest of wrinkles.

  The Manor, though, has no such restraint. It greets me in a rush of warmth, a presence draped over my shoulders; it whispers to me in a voice of creaking beams and rustling curtains.

  No intruders. Baths are occupied.

  And a moment ter, the sound of sweeping brooms adds itself to the chorus: Library reorganized.

  I answer it with a stream of my own magic, letting it trickle into the wards as my attention turns to getting my armor off. There's an armor rack next to the door that I've made great use of recently.

  “It's Lizzie, isn't it?” I guess, stepping aside. “Probably bored of the more sensible bath she keeps stealing at Winnie's, or her own at her house in the city proper.”

  “You would be correct, Madam, on all possible counts,” Benny nods, then tilts their head. “Additional towels have been prepared, should either of you wish to join her.”

  Helena chokes, and I suspect she'd have fallen over if she hadn't already bent down to unce her boots. “W-well, I wouldn't want to, um, intrude?”

  “Of course I'll join her,” I grunt out my answer, working on my cuirass. “I'm already halfway ready.”

  I turn an idea over in my head, then shrug. Why not ask her? “Doubt she'd mind you being there, Helena.”

  “Well! Um.” Helena stumbles through a string of ptitudes, growing redder and redder as she goes.

  Have I pushed her too far? Is this crossing some line? My tail desperately wants to thump on the carpet, but I don't really want to rip up something that expensive.

  When she finally stops, though, she takes a deep breath and furrows her brow.

  “Is that a yes?” I raise an eyebrow, turning around and hanging my cuirass on the rack. “If you're uncomfortable, you don't have to come.”

  “That's a yes,’’ Helena squeaks out, face still flushed red. “Sorry, um, it's just... I didn't think you'd trust me that much.”

  I don't have much of an answer to that, honestly. I could remind her that she couldn't harm me if she tried, or that I don't mind being seen bathing. Neither feels entirely appropriate.

  Entering the bath itself goes quite well.

  As smoothly as it can go, at least, when Helena is blushing half the length of her body and nearly trips over Lizzie as she rushes over to the bath. No injuries, no compints, and no accidental touches. Helena seats herself to one side of us, staring firmly into the tiled wall opposite her.

  Fortunately, she doesn't seem terribly self-conscious of her body. I've met far too many people bothered by having a more rounded belly or pudge; nothing wrong with having either, in my opinion.

  “Dear Helena joins us too!” Lizzie chuckles, lounging against the side of the bath. Her neck is bare, her blonde hair let loose, and the rippling green-blue plumage of her shoulders is revealed. The feathers trail off down her back, clinging to her spine before vanishing near her waist.

  “You've got quite the pattern, dear,” Lizzie raises an eyebrow, examining me in turn. “For a Delver that tears monsters apart, your charm is less brutish than I expected.”

  “Less brutish? I happen to like it that way, you know, so I guess I’ll work harder.” I match her expression, lips twitching. After a brief mental debate, I add, “Verity seems interested in it, at least.”

  Helena sputters her way through a jumble of words. I can’t help the smile creeping onto my face, but I withhold the ugh while Helena recovers. Eventually, she says, “I, um, didn’t expect that. I guessed she preferred women, but. Um.”

  “What’s not to like?” I snort.

  “So I’m not the only one who felt that way, hm?” Lizzie chuckles, moving away from me and leaning back into the water.

  “What a deep conversation we’re having, gossiping about a padin. Also, Lizzie, my thighs are not footrests,” I say drily, bringing my tail around to bat away Lizzie's encroaching feet. “It's just meaningless flirting, and there's work to be done.”

  “I'll tease you about it ter, then,” Lizzie shrugs, which is an interesting motion when she's already propped up on her elbows. Her bright eyes flick over to Helena, then back to me. “More salient topics await, too. How did it go? Don't spare the details, especially where Verity is concerned. Padins are always quite eccentric, and Adamantine's are the strangest of the lot. Having their keep out in the Mincadian wilds just makes them... stranger, I daresay.”

  “Really? I thought that was, um, a myth. Do they really live out there?” Helena perks up as she rambles, arm jumping to her side. “I mean, she does look Mincadian, so...”

  I can't help but chuckle at her studious stare— if her notebooks were waterproofed, she'd no doubt have one here, too. May as well indulge her. “Eh, as far as I know, yeah. Order's somewhere off on the east side of the Mincadian continent, I think?”

  “Fascinating...” Helena murmurs. “I have so many questions.”

  When doesn't she? I snort, waving my tail through the water. The tip pokes out just enough to spsh Lizzie, which earns me a swift kick to the thigh. Heh.

  “Go on, then,” I shrug, waving Helena's way.

  Turquoise eyes glitter in the gentle mist, the only mark of magic on an otherwise unaltered body. Stranger still is how soft she looks, sitting in stark contrast to the leaner or burlier lines of most people I'd bathed with.

  “I'd love to hear about that. Is it true that padins of Adamantine can summon constructs of light? Did she use any divine spell structures? What kinds of magic did she have? Were there any highly abstracted environments? And—”

  “Hold on.” I raise a hand to stall Helena, once again shoving away Lizzie’s feet with my tail. “One question at a time, please. Maybe two.”

  Now this is a topic I can sink my teeth into, assuming we actually get into it before another line of questioning is followed. I give her a toothy grin, and when I see Lizzie leaning in, my grin only widens. “Yes, I’m not sure, Sun and Fire... hm. Abstracted environments, no. I could perceive everything with no headaches, even if the Delve itself felt strange...”

  My admittedly scattered recounting of events devours the minutes with ever-increasing hunger. Lizzie provides rather colorful commentary along the way, and Helena continues to pick apart every detail. It’s... pleasant, to have a conversation so rexed, with people I find interesting enough to spend time with.

  Helena’s especially interested in Verity’s ability to make solid objects out of magic, to the point where she almost manages to divert us into high-end magical theory. It’s an awful pce, really, full of empirical observations and treatises by schors who’d disprove their own theories within the month.

  Which makes Verity’s arrival at the Manor, then the baths, perfect timing to prevent a possible headache.

  "Ah! Um." Helena's voice comes out as a squeak, and she stops to take a breath. "Ivy, that's—”

  Turning my head to follow her gaze, Verity's rose-brown skin fshes at the corner of my vision, then takes up quite a bit of it. "The Manor told me she was coming, don't worry."

  I frown, following that thought back to its origin as best I can. "I should've warned you. Sorry."

  “Welcome in, padin,” Lizzie drawls, propping herself up just enough to peer at Verity. “Finally, someone with the good sense to have feathers.”

  "There’s few things better than feathers, my dy,” Verity chuckles, sauntering on over and sliding into the bath next to me. "Helena, tell me off if you feel uncomfortable, alright?"

  I lift my tail before Verity can sit on it, then lean forward so I can move my tail to the other side. After all, it looks like Lizzie is lining up for another attempt at using me as a footrest.

  "I will," Helena nods, suddenly quite stern. "I don't, um, mind too much. It's just a surprise, really?"

  Verity hums, and Lizzie ughs softly.

  “And now most of the higher end Magebloods in the city are in one rge bath,” I say, gncing to either side. “Barring the one I don’t like, Ulrich if they count, and Winnie, of course.”

  “I’m here too, even if I don’t count,” Helena says softly, her voice lower than I’ve ever heard it.

  “You don’t count yet,” Lizzie corrects, raising a finger. “If Winnie has his way, at least, that won’t take more than a year.”

  “Thank you, um... Dame Tousavon. Elizabeth,” Helena inclines her head, but the dread in her voice is obvious, even to me. Before I can so much as speak, though, she raises her voice and adds, “And thank you for the help with the... um, the crowd, Verity.”

  “It’s part of my duty, no need to thank me,” Verity says brightly, leaning back against the lip of the bath. Her eyes are fixed entirely on Helena, now. “The Restoration likes Delves closed, so reopening one— Goddess knows how that information got out— doesn’t sit well from them. That, and apparently the Church of the Restoration is a bit mixed on Ivy?”

  Verity shrugs. “Honestly, I’m a little worried, but just a little. They trust my word, they trust Adamantine’s.”

  Her words sink in to the mist. Lizzie hums, and I shrug. People will be people.

  “Now,” Verity says, eyes gleaming, “I think I overheard something about magical constructs from the dressing area?”

  “That’d be Helena’s question,” I gesture at Helena, grimacing as my shoulder compins. Right, I’d punched a lot of hard things today. “She wanted to know about your Sun shield... thing.”

  Lizzie sniggers. There’s no better word for it, and Helena is clearly biting back something.

  “My Sun shield thing, of course,” Verity ughs, flicking her hand up through the water and sending it all over me. “You went to a university, I’m told, and your grasp of magic is expansive. But yes, my crystalline Sun construct is a thing.”

  “It’s what you get for using the word down-ness,” I scoff, prodding Verity’s waist with my tail. She yelps, rounding on me with a gre before batting my tail away in a spsh of water. “I’m told most padins get a very expansive magical education, too.”

  “Children, the lot of you,” Lizzie chuckles, lifting herself off her elbows and pivoting to lean against the rim. “At least you’re entertaining.”

  “Crystalline?” Helena stands up in the bath, wading her way over to Verity. “I’ve, um, I’ve never heard of that in retion to constructs. Even Ivy’s collection doesn’t say much about them!”

  “There's not much cssical about Magecraft constructs,” I grumble. “Excuse me for being out of date.”

  “Oh, but Sun constructs date back to the early days of the Empire. One of the few useful things the Emperor did, in my opinion,” Verity counters airily, fshing a smile at everyone. “Sun's the best magic for it. You probably have heard of magic constructs, Helena, or even seen them. I don’t have a very high-level understanding, but it’s a lot like how crystals form in Delves, or even Hearts...”

  The conversation branches outward, spreading like hunting paths in spring before colpsing again as we chase down our subjects. Verity shows us her shield, summoning it and dismissing it several times while we weave our way through expnations.

  Unfortunately for my rexation, her pleasant voice and the subject matter are interesting enough for me to pay attention to.

  Finally, as the chatter fades, Helena clears her throat. It’s a strange, stuttering noise, darkened further when she takes a shuddering breath.

  “In a few weeks,” Helena states, slipping halfway out of the water and sitting up properly. “You said you’d, um, take me on a Delve. Ivy, I mean. Verity too, I think? And I’m sorry if, um, this is uncomfortable to ask, don’t worry about—”

  She catches herself, shaking her head. I can see Verity leaning forward out of the corner of my eye, her gaze sharpening.

  “Well,” she continues, working her jaw. One hand weaves through her soaked hair, and the other is curled to a fist on her thigh.“What’s going to happen to me as I descend? I-I know I’m going to change, but how much? How soon?”

  Helena’s words pour out of her like water through a burst dam. Her movements grow more frantic, her breathing more erratic, and my heart aches for her. I look at Verity, then to Lizzie. They’re both looking to me, Lizzie with an expression I recognize as expectation.

  What had my mentors said to me? That padin long ago, the Delvers I’d asked, the schors I’d demanded answers from.

  Well. No pressure, hah.

  With a snort, I push myself up onto the edge of the bath. Water streams off my form, clinging to the fringes of my scales and tracing rivulets across my skin. I reach over, flicking a few white strands of hair back off my shoulder. “You won’t change this much from one shallow Delve trip, I’ll tell you that. I’ve changed over hundreds of Delves, and while I could hide the effects, I don’t.”

  “And some of us haven’t touched a Delve even once, dear,” Lizzie adds gently. “It’s all about magic, and how much you use it.”

  “Or how much you have to use it,” Verity continues. “Delve pressure is pushing against your soul, which is a constant tax on your magic.”

  I grunt, nodding to each of their statements. My tail lifts up, curling around until I can show it to Helena. “Took five, six months of Delving for it to really grow out, and that's after I pushed well past my limit. Worth it, but not my wisest moment.”

  Helena reaches out, leaning forward, but snaps her hand back. Her eyes remain trained on it, flickering across my tail. “Oh. D-did it hurt?”

  “Whenever it was actively stretching my spine, yes,” I snort, then wince when I see Helena’s sour expression. “But that's because I kept pushing myself. Will you feel some pain? Probably, but not much. Think of it like a bruise or two.”

  Verity rises, wading through the water before dropping down next to Helena. Lizzie just kicks me in the thigh.

  I slip into the water again, biting back a growl. What’s the right thing to say here? What answers her questions? Gods. Nothing for it but to draw on the truth, and give it another try. Where to start, though... hm.

  “Delves expose you to a lot of ambient magic, or pressure. That's going to put strain on it,” I say softly. “It’s strain your body has to learn how to handle without being harmed. But you won’t be under much strain at the depths I'd take you to.”

  I pause, running a hand along my hip. Cws ctter against scales, all muffled by the water. “It’s like... you use magic to change things, you need to change to handle it. Same thing when Delve pressure tries to crush you. And like a muscle, you have to build up strength to handle more pressure or magic.”

  “And the changes never really go away once you get to a certain point. Some changes come and go with magic usage, though, and others can be dismissed outright so long as you stay below a certain threshold of magic,” Verity adds. She reaches out, resting a hand on Helena’s shoulder. “Like Ivy’s eyes changing, which I know you’ve seen. As for how soon, and how much? You control how much you're exposed.”

  “What if I hate it?” Helena whispers, sinking back into the bath. Verity’s hand stays pressed into Helena’s shoulder, steadying her. “What if I hate the changes?”

  I open my mouth, then close it again, leaving Helena’s question to ring in my ears.

  I’m the wrong person to ask. Anything was better than... what I looked like before.

  “Are you afraid of gaining animal bits, dear? Cws, ears, a tail, perhaps fur or feathers?” Lizzie’s voice cuts the silence like a knife. “The specifics don't matter. If there's a particur type you'd prefer, magic will give you that.”

  Helena's expression shifts, but what catches my senses is the way her heart lurches into a faster beat. “W-well... no. They sound, um, nice. Fur sounds interesting...”

  Lizzie nods. “So your question is answered, then?”

  Helena frowns. “I mean. Um. No, I think. But if I—”

  Lizzie waves a hand through the air. “Are you perhaps worried that, with a tail and whatnot, people won't treat you the way you'd like?”

  Silence.

  Verity's hand squeezes Helena's shoulder.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, Helena nods.

  Ah.

  Lizzie offers a gentle smile, warm in a way I've seen only once or twice since I returned home. “I wear many masks to py politics, and I know people trust me less for it. Ivy has the body she deserves, but people flinch at her teeth or growl. We are treated in ways we may not like, put simply, even if we love who we are.”

  I wince. I don't want to scare people, usually, but a shape made for fighting can scare people.

  Pulling herself up in one smooth motion, Lizzie spreads her arms. Her feathers are on full dispy, creeping across her skin until they coat her colrbone and neck. “But would I be happier if I pyed by the mundane rules? If people found me more comfortable to be around? I think not, and I suspect you are much the same, Helena.”

  And then, a long and strange silence. Helena’s mouth opens and closes, and beside her, Verity’s smile has faded somewhat. Lizzie, of course, seems utterly unaffected.

  A few minutes ter, Lizzie rises from the bath, dusting off her shoulders and reaching for a towel. “Gods, what a dour conversation. Necessary, but I think I need some tea after that.”

  “And I unfortunately have much to do in the city proper,” Verity says, voice rough. She pats Helena on the shoulder, then the head. “Helena, are you alright?”

  “I...” Helena starts, standing up. The cogs of thought churn behind her eyes once more. “Could you call me Lena? All of you?”

  A grin tears itself across my face, and I rise to leave the bath as well. “Sure. I think we can all do that.”

  “Then I’m fine,” Lena says firmly, and she holds her head high as she strides toward the door.

  Verity smiles, broad and far too bright as always. She rises out of the bath to follow us, and without so much as looking Lena’s way, she says, “You might want to dry off and put clothes on first, Lena. You’re walking right past the towels, and I don’t think you want to wander off in the nude.”

  Lena turns heretofore unknown shades of red, spreading outward from her face to cover most of her body. Her eyes sweep the room, looking where she’d firmly not looked before. “Oh. Um. Yes! I’ll do that. Right now!”

  My grin simply stretches further as the poor girl slowly overheats. With Adamantine's own strength, I manage to hold in my amusement until Lena towels off and leaves the room. It’s impressive how fast she manages it, but I suspect she cuts several corners.

  “Oh, Gods,” I chuckle. “She’s certainly a bit oblivious, isn’t she?”

  “You’re one to talk,” Verity ughs, reaching out to tap me with a hairbrush held in one hand. “She is, though. I don’t have to ask what she’s partial to, do I? Or who.”

  “You know as well as I that's not going to be the whole story.” Lizzie snatches that brush out of Verity’s hand and, before I can react, she taps me on the head with it. “Stretching your spine, Ivy? Were you trying to traumatize the poor girl? Shame on you.”

  “I was being honest,” I insist, scoffing at them. “I’m hardly a liar.”

  That earns me another tap on the head. “Fine. I’m a bit oblivious, too.”

  “It worked, though, so I can’t be too mad,” Verity sighs, taking the brush back from Lizzie. “Help me untangle my hair?”

  Lena, huh? Well, I’d heard that before, right when we’d first been on the cusp of being friends.

  It’s a good name.

  Origami_Narwhal