Chương 158: 72. I Don't Think You're That Fragile

[Level up!] Linguist has grown from level 0 to 2. +2 Awareness. What a strangely silly reward for such a long day. I'm not sure how I deserve it, really. I haven't exactly been studying. Maybe it's because I've been trying to figure out how to piece together a Fa'aun word for "transgender." They don't have different words for sex and gender, so I have to kind of create that from scratch and then work in a word that means something like shift, change, or different.

The problem is that I end up with these really clunky and awkward words that are really long and translate to like, "altered sex identity." I've learned that you can sometimes use portmanteaus, but figuring out which parts of the word I can cut up or blend is really difficult without a better understanding of the etymological roots for— [Level up!] Linguist has grown from level 2 to 3. +1 Awareness. Yeah, okay, point taken.

I guess it just doesn't feel like I'm doing anything different, but my everyday puzzling out the language is good enough for a tier zero class. Of course, all that is just a distraction from all the crap I have to deal with. I haven't moved from my spot on the floor since Al left—procrastinating. The day isn't actually over yet.

"Frick, the sun's not even down yet." Exact times are kinda tricky. It's not that timekeeping isn't a thing, just that most people don't know or care what the exact time of day is. You don't have people going around wearing watches or—sundials? No, that's stupid. Clocks are a thing, it's just that clockwork is insanely intricate and expensive. That's why meeting places like the cafe, or the ranger HQ, or even the party venue Rara took us to are important.

You don't meet someone at noon, you meet them at "midday" and expect to wait around for an hour or so. Crap, I'm procrastinating again. It's really easy to do when your own brain is a handy source of distractions. I certainly don't have a friggin' shortage of things to think about. Okay, priorities.

"Evelyn, we need to talk," I sigh.

"What about?" she asks. She really does talk like a grandma. The better I learn Fa'aun, the more my mental translation of her voice starts to feel old-timey. It's kind of weird, because I associate the way she speaks with knowledge and wisdom, but like—I mean, she's not stupid, but she's kind of a kid. She's got just that right combo of confidence and ignorance to make you cringe, paired with a voice that sounds as if she's imparting the wisdom of the ages upon you.

Maggie is even worse, to be fair, but she's so brazen about it that it almost wraps around to endearing. Almost. Crap! I'm getting distracted again. What is wrong with me today?

"Are you okay?" I ask before the silence can get any more awkward.

"I won't pry if it was private, but you seem pretty shaken by whatever Al told you earlier."

"I'm not, but I don't wish to speak of it," she replies with a surly tone.

"At least, not with you. If I think it concerns you or your safety, I'll say so. Otherwise, it's my own burden to bear."

"Alright," I sigh. Evie's Dreamer class and meeting Reverie has been a real mixed blessing. She's more active and less dismissive than she used to be, but actually less talkative in certain ways. Revi is her new favorite confidante, and it means that she doesn't share with us unless she has to. I don't really blame her—we were all a bit disturbed by the dream diary incident.

"Actually, there is something," she volunteers.

"The Alchemist let it slip, but I didn't realize what it meant until after your conversation about his—or, her—?"

"His," I insist.

"His gender," she concedes.

"I think he was from a noble family."

"Really? I mean, I'm not super shocked, but what makes you say that?"

"He said he was driven away by his peers, before joining the cult," she explains.

"The church might not approve, and most people would find it odd, but if there's any group that would reject his identity strongly enough to drive him mad—it would be the nobility." I nod slowly.

"I could see that. Especially if he was the firstborn."

"Yes, exactly," Evie agrees.

"You just saw the lengths to which a matriarch will go for her heir." I wince at that. Poor Talla—getting faced with the realities of nepotism. She probably thought she could avoid special treatment by just not asking for it. Did she really not notice how much Draga kept stepping back for her? Maybe that's another conversation we need to have—not that it's really any of our business, but she's a friend.

"Alright then. Good to know, I guess." I frown for a moment, unsure what to do with that knowledge.

"It's probably the Gaa family, huh?" They are the ones that had cult connections, after all. Again, though, this was centuries ago so I'm not sure how useful it is.

"He did hint that part of his name was relevant to Draga's hearing," Violet adds. Oh yeah! Gosh, he really can't help himself, can he? I might need to remember that Al is bad at keeping secrets for a guy with so many of them. Hm. There are probably a lot of people in the know, now that I think about it. Was Tamara's thing about the Alchemist "pretending to be a man" more than just speculation? This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Ugh, I hope not.

That context makes it so much more gross. And why am I keeping all of this to myself? Dang it, Evie isn't the only one that's been more reserved lately.

"Okay, there's something else I wanted to ask you about, Evie."

"I can only promise to hear it," she replies. See? That's the kind of stuff I mean—who talks like that? And then like thirty seconds later she'll be whining about doing long division. It hurts my brain.

"Can you try to figure out a way for all of us to talk to Reverie?" I ask.

"Either getting her to wake up, or bringing us into your dreams somehow. I don't know if I'm comfortable with how isolated she is from the rest of us—even with you keeping her company every night."

"She prefers the isolation," Evelyn says.

"I think she considers it part of her purpose."

"Well I don't like it," I huff, crossing my arms.

"She's one of us, and she should have all the privileges that entails!" Maybe we need to change our name again. Maerv? Marve? Ew. Never mind, that's probably too much of a hassle. With a silent apology to all the Marvins of the world, I move on from that train of thought.

"She never wants to be in front, though," Evie reminds me.

"If you gave her a day, she'd just spend it sleeping. And you do that every day already." Okay, good point, good point.

"But we need to be able to talk to her. Not just through you—no offense or anything, but we don't always see eye-to-eye about what's important."

"Understatement of the century," Maggie grumbles.

"I'm not sure what I can do to help," Evie sighs.

"Perhaps a modification of Violet's illusion spell?" I shrug.

"Worth a try! Maybe you can do that tonight? It's okay if it doesn't work, I just want it to be something we're working towards."

"You mean while we sleep?" she asks.

"Can I even do that?"

"Maybe! Only one way to find out," I answer.

"And Al did say that dreams are sort of real, or something like that, right?"

"He also said to be careful," Vi reminds me.

"And I'm not sure experimenting with magic inside of dreams fits."

"Don't be a wuss!" Maggie sneers.

"That's the best place to fuck around with new stuff. No consequences!"

"Mags, you're not helping," I groan.

"I'll make the attempt, if River is willing," Evie decides.

"But I can't make any promises."

"Good enough." There's a few moments of companionable silence after that, before Violet breaks the lull.

"We should discuss this curse and how to get rid of it," she says.

"Oooh! Hell yeah, that sounds like a good way to push your class, let's go!" Maggie agrees enthusiastically. That's a rare alliance, but I think I'll check out and let them figure it out between themselves. Magic already isn't my forte, and even if it was, my brain is melting out of my ears right now. Blood and acid, I need a break. * Magdalena and Violet spend hours trying to sense the curse the Alchemist placed on us without any progress. I doubt it's possible as we are.

Detecting curses usually requires some kind of skill or spell, and mere magical senses aren't enough at our level. Lady Talla could probably sense it with one of her spells, but that would defeat the purpose. It's impossible to say what the curse does, but it's probably harmless. Either way, most of the day is spent on meditation and arguing, only broken up by dinner and Lady Tara briefly checking in to make sure we're alright. The nobles are all busy preparing, but all we can do is sit and wait.

That gives me plenty of time to think about what the Alchemist told me. Except I... don't. Not for lack of trying—I ruminate on it all evening. But I don't know what to think. I don't want to believe it, but I can't bring myself to just deny it either. So instead, I just fret uselessly. I'm not like Maev. They're all so thoughtful and analytical—even River in her weird, sometimes incomprehensible way—but that's never been what I'm good at. In the cloister, I would talk to a priestess for advice.

I wish I could talk to Draga. I hope he's okay. When I'm lost, it's always my faith that sees me through. It's all I know—all I have. But my faith has never been tested so intensely. I died, and instead of being welcomed back into the Goddess' embrace, I was forced to relive my death over and over again until I woke up in an unfamiliar body. Then I was rejected by Her divine mechanism until Maev welcomed me into their fold.

This world of the future is strange and unfamiliar, and Her light has never felt so dim and distant. Now, the one person I find who knows my plight tells me that my entire life was a lie. How can I believe it? If it's true, then I really do have nothing. My life, my class, and my faith would all be lies. I know that's a terrible reason to deny it, but the alternative is annihilation.

I have preached time and again that a priestess cannot hide from the light of truth, but I fear that this light will burn me to cinders and leave nothing but an empty husk behind.

"I don't think you're that fragile." River's voice startles me, and I find myself within the garden sanctuary, dreaming. We must have gone to bed while I wasn't paying attention. Reverie is, as usual, sitting in the grass and idly picking at the flowers. She lets a brightly colored bug crawl onto her finger and holds it up to her face, cocking her head to examine it with a vacant expression.

"It's a bit unsettling when you respond to my thoughts," I grumble.

"You think very loudly," she replies.

"Did you not want to be heard?" I sigh. We're getting right into it this time, I see.

"I suppose I did, though I don't think you can help me with this." River shrugs, holding out her hand to let the bug fly away.

"I can listen," she offers.

"Sometimes that's enough." I like that about her. It's why I'm so much more comfortable talking to River about this than the others. Allie would be sympathetic, but try to cheer me up with platitudes or offers. Violet would see it as a challenge—some kind of problem to solve or debate to be won. Magdalena would just insult my faith and make fun of me. River, at least, I can trust to listen without judgment or ulterior motives.

If she has insights, I trust her to share them, but she is not, by nature, a woman of action.

"Thank you, River," I say, taking a seat alongside her.

"I think the others are wary of you, but I'm glad that you're here."

"Likewise," she replies.

"I'm accustomed to isolation, but your company is not unpleasant."

"Oh, speaking of isolation—Allison asked me to try finding a way to allow them to communicate with you," I tell her.

"If you don't object, I'll try casting a spell that might work." She blinks, as if confused by the idea.

"If you wish. I'm not sure why they would want to speak to me."

"I suppose because you're one of them?" I hedge.

"You know almost everything about them through their dreams, but they don't know you."

"There is little to know," she sighs.

"I am what you see. But if that's what they want, then it's fine." Fair enough, I suppose. Of all the things I've tried to learn through dreams, this is the first time I've attempted magic. It should be interesting.