System Lost: My Own Best Friend

We've got a lot of free time on this road trip. Allie's using that time to learn the language and teach Eva math or whatever, Vi's finally seen the light and started learning magic—good for her—and hanging out with Draga, and even Evelyn occasionally takes her head out of her own ass long enough to do something productive. Mostly she's just getting used to our body and bitching about how weird toes are.

To be fair, she's probably got a point there.

But all of them have forgotten what's really best in life. What's most important and deserving of the bulk of our attention. That's right—I'm nothing if not consistent. I am talking, of course, about Nipper.

He's more snake than worm at this point, as long as both our arms spread out—though he's stopped getting any thicker around. That's probably for the best, as it's already getting more and more difficult to hide the not-so-little-anymore guy around our shoulders under the cloak.

Progress on my [Tamer] class has been...non-existent. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I feed him—both physical snacks and the occasional bit of harmless magical fire—I give him water, and...well, I guess that's sort of it, huh?

I've been trying to figure out ways to train him, but communication is a bit of a problem. Until now, our whole relationship has been defined by food and bonks. Food good, bonk bad. Nipper's a clever worm, and usually figures out quickly enough not to repeat any behavior that earns him a bonk, but coaxing him into specific actions is a lot more of a challenge.

For one thing, since he's blind and mostly-deaf, there aren't a whole lot of ways to give him commands. Our Nipper is precious, adorable, and incredibly useless.

"You're loyal too, aren't you buddy?" I say, scritching his neck as we sit by the campfire, enjoying a rare non-lizard meal.

Those fat chicken things taste nothing like chicken. I'm not sure what they do taste like, but the look and texture is the same, so my brain keeps expecting chicken and then being put off by the fact that it's not. Still beats another day of spicy soup, lizard jerky, and bland crackers.

Anyway, thanks to my new skill I can actually confirm that Nipper enjoys both real food and magical treats, so it seems like he needs a mix of both. He also likes being scratched and pet, but doesn't like being squeezed and really hates being suspended in the air. Unfortunately, it seems like Allie's limited success getting him to produce silk on command had more to do with scaring/annoying him into it than anything.

Which leads me to my current impasse. He doesn't like being squeezed or poked, can't see at all, and has almost no ability to distinguish between different sounds or their directions—the air is either vibrating or it isn't. My skill is entirely one-way, and not exactly perfect.

It doesn't so much tell me what Nipper is thinking or feeling—insofar as the weird little invertebrate is even capable of higher thoughts and emotions—but rather gives me an impression of how he might feel.

It's weird. For example, I know that if we died, he'd eat our corpse in a heartbeat. Does that mean he's been thinking about it? That he wants to eat us and everything around him? No—well, yes, maybe a little—but not in so specific a way. It's just how he is, and I just understand that.

Is this how Allison feels about other people? I can't imagine what it must be like to just look at a person and know how they're feeling. That's way more of a superpower than sensing magic or throwing fireballs around. But Nipper? Nipper, I get.

And so, on this night, beneath this alien sky, I am determined to find a way to make this alien creature understand me too.

One thing he does have is an acute magical sense. Back in the caves, he was always the first one to spot the demon, even when it was invisible, and I swear he can tell which one of us is in front. I'm not sure how, and maybe it's my imagination, but he seems more shy around Evelyn and Vi than Allie and me—and he can definitely distinguish between other people.

So the answer, as always, must be magic. That conclusion is neither surprising nor novel, but I'm not sure how to make use of it. There's not a whole lot I can try, either. I've been banned from any more chaos magic, and while I don't plan on letting that stop me, I'm being a good girl for now.

Besides, Eva would rat me out faster than you can say "narc."

So I've got to operate within the bounds of my [Pyrothaumaturgy] skill, and while I've been taking every opportunity to practice finer control like Talla showed me, I haven't had any breakthroughs on using it to communicate with Nipper. I'm hoping to change that tonight.

Attempt #1:

Blinking the flame on and off. Just makes Nipper hungry and gives me a headache.

Attempt #2:

Leading Nipper in a circle with a little flame then giving him a treat. Fun, but unproductive.

Attempt #3:

Using a flame to direct Nipper, then blinking it off once he's moving. He loses interest once the flame is gone and doesn't understand why I bonk him if he stops or turns. Directionality and object permanence seem to be tough concepts for him.

Attempt #4:

Creating a small line of fire and pulsing the intensity of the flame from one end to the other. Really fucking hard! A bead of sweat runs down my face as I try to focus on—

"Pardon the interruption—"

"Holy fucking shitballs!" I screech, startling so badly that I trip over my own feet and nearly fall face-first into the fire before Draga catches me.

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"I'm very sorry!" he exclaims, helping me right myself. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Don't fucking sneak up on me like that!" I snarl, trying to still my shaking hands as I kneel down to reassure Nipper that everything is okay.

Huh, I guess he can sense my distress after all. Also damn, we are not over surviving alone in that cave.

"Mags, he was sitting right next to you for like an hour," Allie comments.

"Well nobody told me that," I mutter.

"Are you...Vi?" he hedges.

Fuck! I thought it would be funny if someone mistook her for me, but it sucks being on the wrong end of that. I'm gonna give this shithead a piece of my goddamn mind!

I shake my head no.

Got his ass. That'll learn him.

"I see. You must be the other one—" he cuts himself off when I furrow my brows and hastens to correct himself. "Apologies! I meant no offense, but I haven't spoken to you as much as the others and I don't recall your name."

Ugh, for fuck's sake. If he doesn't know me, then why does he insist on inflicting this conversation on me?

"M-Maggie," I stutter, keeping my eyes on Nipper even though it's pointless trying to get anything done with Muscles yapping at me.

"M'maggie," he says with a nod. "I won't forget again."

Is this asshole making fun of me?! I'm gonna fucking kill him!

"That's a normal way to speak in their language," Allies sighs. "Just correct him."

Oh. Right.

"No," I say in Fa'aun. "Sorry. It's Maggie."

"Ah," he says with a wince. "I apologize again for the error, Miss Maggie. You can speak Fa'aun?"

Oh, come on! Even fucking Violet could have managed that much. Allie might be the one spending all her time on it, but the rest of us aren't dead or stupid. Hm. Poor choice of words, actually. Well, I'm not.

"I can talk," I reply, still in Fa'aun.

I'm not as good as Allie or Eva, but I definitely know the language better than Violet does. Fat lot of fucking good that does me when interpersonal contact makes me break out in a cold sweat.

"I see," Draga mutters awkwardly, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "Am I bothering you?"

"Yes," I answer without emotion.

He blinks, somehow surprised by that—or maybe just the fact that I told him so. Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, idiot. Rather than leave me alone, though, he persists.

"I wanted to offer my assistance," he says. "I've never had a class for it, but I do have some experience working with animals."

Oh yeah, sure. Probably knows someone with a dog, or whatever they have instead of dogs here. It sniffed his hooves one time and then he decided he must be the god of canines. Whatever, fuck it, it's not like I'm making any progress.

I shrug and gesture towards Nipper to give Draga the go ahead.

"Is...that a yes?"

Goddess damn it. "Yes!" I huff irritably. This is such a waste of time.

He crouches down next to me, still taller on his knees than I am standing, and I edge away from him as he reaches for Nipper.

I watch with anticipation as his hand approaches the Nip-Zone. Our Nipper may have learned not to go randomly biting the people we hang out with, but that doesn't mean he'll let them handle him. He damn near took power-mom's hand off when she woke us up the other day.

As expected, as soon as Draga's hand enters nibbling distance, Nipper strikes. Draga doesn't react as the worm's lamprey-maw clamps down on his fingers. Then, to my shock, awe, and slowly mounting horror, Nipper's attitude quickly shifts from defensive to curious as he gnaws harmlessly on Draga's hand.

"Hmm, that tickles," the ranger mutters. "Is it venomous?"

"Yes," I answer dumbly. "Uh...bleed-poison?"

Draga frowns slightly. "I don't think that's the right word, but I understand your meaning."

"The heck?" Allie interjects. "I don't even know the Fa'aun word for anticoagulant. How'd you come up with that?"

"By using my brain?" I counter. "A lot of their words are like that—I just took a shot."

"Pardon?" Draga asks, glancing back at us.

I point at my head and switch back to Fa'aun, making a yapping gesture with my other hand. "Allie."

He chortles. "She can be a bit of a talker, can't she? You must find her company draining."

"Hey! I'm not that bad...am I?" Allison asks.

The silence she receives in response is incredibly loud.

"You guys suck," she grumbles.

Alright, I'm warming up to Muscles a little bit. Anybody that dunks on Allie can't be that bad.

"Now what?" I ask, returning my attention to Nipper, who has decided that Draga is not food, for now.

He wipes his hand on his sash—not a scratch on him, damn—and rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"Well, usually the first thing to teach is an attack command," he muses.

The first?! I guess this world has different priorities when it comes to domesticated animals, but wow.

"How is your magic control coming along?" he asks out of nowhere. "Can you control multiple flames?"

Yeah, I can do like three. Two if I want them to be different from each other, though I still can't do anything too complicated with that. Right, fuck—not a mind reader. I nod.

"Alright then, let's try this—" he holds out his arm and points out a spot near his wrist. "Put one flame here and give it a shape that you intend to mean 'don't bite.'" Then he moves his finger up closer to his elbow. "And one here that means 'attack!'"

Easy for him to say, but if I could just shove random meaning into my flames this would be a lot—oh holy shit, I totally can! I forgot about [Message]! My good ol' translation spell hasn't been as useful since Eva woke up, but I still know how to do it.

Actually no—I'm supposed to be in good girl mode and something tells me that chaos magic isn't what mister ambiguously-cop-adjacent had in mind.

I smack my forehead. No, I'm stupid. Nipper's magic sense is really sensitive. If there's any difference between two different flames, I bet he'll be able to tell. It doesn't matter what those differences actually are. The meaning will be whatever we teach Nipper to interpret them as. That's the whole point!

Guh. I know I volunteered for this job, but maybe teaching others—even semi-sentient worm creatures—isn't what I'm cut out for. Whatever, too late to back out now. Well, I'm level zero, so it's literally not too late to back out now, but I'm not going to!

"Okay, Draga," I say with a grin, rubbing my hands together. "Let's make you bleed!"

He gives me a strange look. "Did you have to say it that way?"