Chapter 39: Both the River & the Channel [Part ½]

After a brief discussion and very vocal disagreement that for some reason Tareth changed languages to have, Scarlet split off with the younger vulpian. The Historian went to do whatever it was they did, while Scarlet followed Tareth back the way they must have brought her, and then to the residence. On the way he pointed out landmarks and locations, not that he bothered to pause very long, or explain very much.

Tareth took them through a pathway that completely bypassed the central zones and kept them on the periphery.

The interior of tower was beautiful. The ‘earthen’ theme was clear and present. It made sense considering that of the few residents that entered her sensory range, most indeed had traces of earth mana or had physical indicators of some similar affinity or trait.

She wanted to scan them all with Inspect to find out if her hunches were correct. Under different circumstances, she might have spent a lot of time appreciating and evaluating and experimenting, but right now there was a timer steadily counting down in the corner of her vision.

[00:22:03]

Scarlet was sure a tour would be beneficial, however now did not seem like the most optimal time. Besides, it was obvious the Historian had put Tareth up to this. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone approach a task as half-heartedly since before the Grinch had his medical emergency.

“Mr. Tareth-”

“Scholar.” He corrected. “Scholar Tareth,” he repeated when Scarlet turned her head, expression neutral, and just looked at him until she felt embarrassment creep into his emotional heatmap. No scolding or chiding, no nasty frown or muttered grumbling, she just kept looking at him as she waited for even the embarrassment to give way. They spent almost thirty seconds like this before his aura revealed the tiny modicum of shame she just knew had to be in there somewhere.

She looked at him for a moment longer until eventually she broke eye contact. looked away and they walked in silence.

For a few minutes it was just the squishing of moving fabric, the quiet of two sets of near-silent footfalls – at least to Scarlet’s untrained ears – broken intermittently by the tapping of the cane. Despite her no longer needing the thing, there was a certain comfort and familiarity to having the weight in her hands.

When Tareth once more began, Scarlet spoke up.

“Perhaps we postpone the tour for a later time?”

“The Historian believes it beneficial. It is my duty to fulfill his requests,” he said, a faint hint of both pride and resentment at that statement. Something to remember for another time.

“Beneficial? Certainly. Just not now.” She didn’t think she needed to explain herself further. Besides, while he might be beholden to follow orders order or something, she had no such restrictions.

“I suppose he never did specify a time. We could do the tour before testing tomorrow…” she let him mutter to himself as they walked in uncompanionable silence. Scarlet was so much in her in her own head that barely registered the scenery as they went by.

“I will leave you here,” Tareth said after a moment, but he didn’t budge. It was obvious he had something to say, and Scarlet wouldn’t make it easy for him. She watched him, studying the fascinating interplay between his caution and fear, his irritation and pride, and something else she couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was an emotional cluster she’d seen more than once before, and the insights she’d gained about psionics gave her an additional perspective that she was excited to explore.

Then the vulpian shook his head, as if shaking away the indecision and said “My master said I should remind you to be cautious. While you are not the only non-vulpian residing within the Tower, you are the only human.”

That was interesting, Scarlet thought. “What is the warning for?”

“You might get some extra attention. I wouldn’t recommend trying to make many friends right now. You are completely ignorant of the Tower laws, the local culture, or broader customs in general,” he said, and she could feel the faint, smug superiority as he said it.

It wasn’t like she could argue the fact. Unfortunately, it was mostly true. That was something else Scarlet would require library access for. It wasn’t just Vulpian history she needed. Hopefully the library held some knowledge on the basic broad strokes of the System itself.

Besides, if she didn’t receive permission, well, what else were teleporting mice for? She shoved aside a flicker of sadness. The separation was temporary.

Internally, she was thrashing her emotions back into orderly little boxes with all the finesse of a fart at a funeral -she’d need to work on that. Externally, she projected a well practiced, fractional smile.

“I’m quite aware, though I’ll thank the Historian for his warning when I see him next. Will that be all?”

[00:11:16]

Tareth opened his mouth, then closed it before he turned to a heavy stone door traced with silver lines.

“Please place your index fingers here and here.” Tareth indicated a glowing symbol.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He’d very begrudgingly signed the System contract as well, so it wasn’t likely a trap. Still, she stared him dead in his vulpine eyes before turning to the door.

First, she gave the door a try, and it would appear… Yes; very securely closed.

She ignored Tareth’s under the breath grumbling as she placed her fingers where indicated. There was a tingle, and a brief, gentle pinch. She looked sharply at her ‘guide’.

“It is taking an imprint of your mana signature. Now the door is keyed to you and only you.” As if to confirm his words the previously unbudgeable, stone slab swung open.

As if by mutual agreement, the moment the door opened they both turned and left. Tareth to do whatever he did while Scarlet entered the room.

She stepped inside, shut the door, then waited ten seconds, just in case some mutated horror rose from the ground to consume her, or a particularly aggressive rock took umbrage to her existence and decided to have a go.

When nothing happened, well she didn’t relax, however she did begin to move.

Peripherally she registered that the room was luxurious. She promised herself she’d explore it later, as she began a quick sweep of the room. She doubted the few bug sweepers she’d brought would catch anything on a professional setup on Earth let alone whatever magic methods of surveillance there might be.

The room was clean. No surprise. The bathing chamber was enormous.

It had a broad, stone basin in the center of the room that acted as a bath. Natural warm water flowed continuously from channels carved into the walls as steam drifted lazily through the air.