To Fight Against Fate

Priscilla absolutely adored Roydorn. It was everything she had ever read about and more because Priscilla didn't actually know much about the city. The heroes had only briefly stopped by the city because Lag'ge wanted to visit it, but it had been unfortunately razed to the ground, so Priscilla was excited to see it in all its glory. Fan art was all she had to work with, but most of that had just depicted the destruction that had been left in the wake of the dragon chimera.

Roydorn was definitely the largest city she had seen since coming to this world, a constant throng of people moving about the streets, each off on their own quests and uninterested in the world around them. She had grown up in a big city and there was something comforting about knowing that you were just one of the crowd, a kind of anonymity that took the burden off your shoulders. Her friends weren't as used to it, but as Priscilla paused before entering the bustling streets to soak it in.

The city had certainly lived up to the hype of being the city of art, with a constant thrum of instruments floating through the air and the smell of fresh paint every present as people painted upon every surface they could. Everywhere Priscilla looked, she saw some of the boldest fashion she had seen since coming to this world. Walking down the streets reminded her of walking through Paris, a feast for the eyes as you got a glimpse into the lives of a hundred different people at once through how they chose to express themself with the half second your paths crossed before you never saw them again.

A woman walking determined towards a glassware store had a swirling dragon tattoo curling up her arm, both her and the dragon's eyes glowing a subtle blue, the dragon scales shimmering in the afternoon light; a man with hair cut at a jagged angle had a single length of bright yellow cloth draped over his body and mascara smudged under his eyes was ordering what looked like a crepe; a couple talking animatedly were a mirror image of themselves, glad in grayscale and pale make up like they had just walked out arm in arm from an old-timey photo.

Priscilla's fingers itched for a pencil, to capture some of the designs in her sketchbook because her creativity was sparking to life after seeing all that, but she ignored the urge as she walked with her friends down the street.

They decided to go to dinner first, a fancy seafood restaurant the desk clerk had recommended, as it was declared an "unforgettable and must see experience."

Priscilla felt buzzing in her foot as she stepped over the threshold, but she ignored the sting as her eyes went wide.

Walking into this restaurant was like walking into an underwater abyss. The only sources of blue light came from what looked like fist sized pearls that were lined along the walls, with smaller pearls sitting in a small lamp at each table. The table's legs looked like sea creatures caught in mid motion, the metal seamlessly shifting from a twisting anemone to smooth tabletop.

Every inch of the walls was covered with dark blue paint which made the space seem smaller, even though Priscilla knew the building was larger than this space implied. It looked like the murals were slowly shifting like it was made of water, dark, indistinct shapes lurking far away, just out of sight, but Priscilla thought she caught a flash of tentacle curling as it slid away.

Paint shimmered underneath the pearl's light and then it rippled as a form leapt from the wall — a pearlescent silver fish with fins that fluttered like wings. The fish darted through the air, leaping from one source of light to the next before silently splashing back into the wall and disappearing into the dark.

The low tones of a bass stringed instrument hummed through the air, the note sustaining itself in a way that made the entire room feel cavernous and eerie, like you were truly trapped a thousand leagues under the sea. Not a single whisper from any of the tables carried as customers carried on their conversations.

"Damn," Priscilla whispered, her skin prickling. There must be some sort of active enchantment affecting the place, probably one that muffled sound.

"Isn't it lovely?" a woman said, giving Priscilla's a smile full of pointy teeth. She wore a high collar dress with no sleeves and an uneven skirt ending around her calves. It took a moment for Priscilla to realize that the shiny material the worker's dress was made of was fish scales.

"Welcome to Nautilus," the woman continued, "home of some of the best painters and cooks in all of Roydorn. Table for four?"

They were led to what had looked like a terrace that overlooked the lake from the outside but as they grew closer, the sea walls lightened in color slightly. Eventually they found their table and it was like sitting inside an aquarium, a few feet from a vision of sea creatures swimming by, enjoying a murky coral reef.

"Wow," Kavil said, his eyes wide and voice hushed as he watched a shark swim by. "You know, I think I forgive you for spending an absurd amount on this meal for this sight alone."

It was breathtaking, but now that the shock had worn off, Priscilla was plagued with slightly uncomfortable flashbacks. Intellectually, she knew that she wasn't actually surrounded by water and it was all just a trick of the light, but sometimes when the window shifted like water did, Priscilla was unfortunately reminded of how she had nearly drowned. The constant, low level and irritating buzz of magic against Priscilla's skin reminded her of being engulfed by the overpowered elemental before she had fallen unconscious.

She wanted to take a drink to dry her throat, but they had only been served water and bringing that closer to her mouth and nose seemed counterproductive.

Something bumping Priscilla's knee drew her attention, and she smiled reflexively.

It was Illnyea's own knee. Illnyea was staring at Priscilla with a slight frown, tilting her head and raising one eyebrow in a silent question.

Everyone had near death experiences, Priscilla shouldn't let hers bother her, especially when it made Illnyea look at her like that. She had been perfectly fine just after the drowning, healed up in just a jiffy, she would not dramatically complain about it now after she had been so insistent they go to a seafood restaurant.

"What do you want to eat?" Priscilla asked. "I'm, of course, going for crab legs, but scallops are delicious too."

Illnyea stared at Priscilla for another moment longer, a hint of something behind her eyes as if weighing her response. But Illnyea just glanced down with a sad little smile before looking at the menu.

"I'll share these scallop things if you'll let me try the crab," Illnyea said.

"Can we all share?" Kavil asked, glancing up hopefully. "There's so many things on the menu and I don't know if I can pick just one.

Sulaiman had been silently looking over the menu and finally looked up. "I would be… amenable to this idea."

As one, everyone looked at Priscilla, and she folded immediately, even though she had been looking forward to a crab feast.

"Of course we can," Priscilla said. "Will you guys trust me if I order for us? I've never had the dishes here before, but enough of them look familiar that I have a guess what might taste best."

"Go ahead," Sulaiman said, looking glad to push the menu away from him, like he had been slightly overwhelmed by the amount of choices. There was some tension in his shoulders, but when he had chosen a seat that had his back facing the wall, it had mostly faded.

Priscilla ended up ordering them crab legs, butter poached lobster, seared scallops, and shrimp pasta as she thought that would be a good introduction to what the world of seafood had to offer. Though she wanted to order alcohol, Priscilla refrained from the champagne since they needed to go to the opera after this, and forced herself to drink the water. Her hand didn't shake and that was an absolute win.

The waitress had not been kidding about the cooks being masters of their craft — as they walked closer, the smell hit your nostrils first. The warm, buttery scent wafted from each dish was mesmerizing, capturing your attention and refusing to let go as the cloche was removed from each tray to reveal the delicacies below. After cracking open the first crab leg and dipping it into the seasoned butter, Priscilla took a bite that was so decadent all of her troubles washed away.

"You have to try this," Priscilla said, cracking open another leg and pushing it towards Illnyea.

They all sampled each tray and Priscilla's mouth had been transported directly into heaven. Based on the tingle on her tongue, there was some sort of magic component to the meal to make the flavors enhanced, but Priscilla did not care about the pain because it was so goddamn delicious.

Her friends obviously agreed based on the way they devoured what was in front of them, and they walked out the restaurant with a lighter wallet and bellies full to bursting.

The Chantillian Opera House was incredible. It was painted a bright shade of purple that was eye-catching in a way that said the painters had done it on purpose — it forced you to notice it, to take in its majesty in awe. The mural of Fortulum was breathtaking and Priscilla's eyes lingered on the goddess as they approached.

There had been no response to Priscilla's prayers just yet, but Priscilla could not walk more than ten feet before she saw another small sign of Fortulum. Mockingbirds seemed to be carved into every available surface, darting across door frames, resting on a necklace of a passing child, painted onto a banner that hung at the back of a fabric stall.

The revenge against Sulaiman was petty and while she was still occasionally irritated with him, Priscilla had kept up her prayers to Fortulum more as an experiment now, to see if she could annoy a goddess into answering her, especially now that she was within a city devoted to her.

The inside of the opera house was just as ostentatious as the exterior, just on the edge of being too much, but walking the line of sophistication and gaudy. Large portraits lined the walls, each with a plaque declaring the stage name of the actor, their most notable plays, and their patrons. The painter had captured each actor's charm with such realistic detail Priscilla half thought they might walk right off the canvas like the fish had.

The opera playing that night had looked like it starred the forbidden love between a cleric and a paladin of two opposing gods and the lengths they went to be together. Priscilla thought it sounded like a classic Romeo and Juliet plot, and thought it'd be interesting enough since this was a world of magic. She had never been a big fan of romance, preferring those story arcs to be a B-plot to the action and adventure, but didn't mind romance when she liked both partners.

Illnyea's eyes lit up when she saw the poster which depicted a cleric praying on her knees, beseeching the view for mercy with eyes glittering with unshed tears, and behind her was the paladin with his sword drawn, facing down what seemed like a sky full of fireballs aimed straight for them.

"This is actually a prequel," Illnyea explained in a hushed whisper as they filed into the opera house, "depicting what happened to the hero's parents before he was born."

"So I guess they both end up living happily ever after?" Kavil asked.

Illnyea opened and closed her mouth as she thought better of it.

"Let's find our seats," Illnyea said, an unsubtle change in topic that made Priscilla snort.

"Five copper the dad dies by the end of the opera," Priscilla whispered to Sulaiman. He had brought the mask he had bought at the harvest festival, insisting on wearing it at the opera house. Priscilla had been surprised, but Sulaiman held himself easier once the mask was in place, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

But even with the mask, Priscilla could see the humor crinkle his eyes as he leaned to whisper back, "I bet it's the mother, right after the hero is born."

They shook on it, and were soon at their seats. It wasn't the most expensive view in the house, as even Priscilla had to admit that the price tag for those were wasteful, but they had an excellent view of the entire stage, sitting on the middle level.

Priscilla sat between Kavil and Sulaiman, with Illnyea on the other side of Kavil. Kavil seemed to be hassling Illnyea about spoiling the entire plot to him and Illnyea was whispering back furiously that she had not confirmed or denied Kavil's guess.

They soon quieted as the room went dark before a single high pitched note floated from the stage. It was faint at first, but it swept across the room, accompanied by a burst of cold wind that stole the breath from your lungs.

A spotlight appeared on a single woman on stage and revealed it was her sorrowful voice ringing through the silent space. It was the cleric from the poster, though she was much more disheveled now as she held her hands clasped in front of her. Her robes were torn and bloodied, and her auburn hair tumbled freely over her shoulders as she stared into the audience looking lost.

Priscilla knew just enough about music to know that the cleric was singing an aria with no words but each staccato note was sung by a cleric whose god had turned their back on her, the raw despair and agony making goosebumps rising on Priscilla's arms.

The song transitioned into the cleric's lament of how fate had brought her to the precipice, putting life and death within her palms by giving her power she had never craved, power that others coveted so much that they were willing to burn down the world. The cleric had never thought that her devotion would be turned into a weapon against her, aimed just above the heart and waiting for her to walk willingly into death.

It ended with the cleric saying her only crime was falling in love and revealed that her hands were stained in gold.

The stage went dark and Priscilla was intrigued by the cold open and the implication that the cleric may have killed a god.

Priscilla enjoyed the opera, as the story beats used some of her favorite tropes without it becoming rote and she was half expecting the tragic ending, so it didn't hurt as much.

The female protagonist, Lucia, and the paladin, Hadrian, were engaging characters. They started first as enemies on the opposite side of a religious conflict over whose order was the true heir of a recently uncovered ruin. Lucia tried to catch Hadrian sabotaging the food supply of her goddess, but through a series of accidents, the two of them ended up being the only survivors of the search team as the ground beneath the camp exploded.

Hadrian ended up being injured by instinctively shielding Lucia from the blast as they fled over a cliff, and Lucia's sense of guilt led to a classic nursing back to health scene. They learned they had more similarities than differences during their forced proximity and romance bloomed from there as they ended up exploring some of the ancient ruins together. Within the ruin, they discovered that it had been built as a giant altar, meant to let someone steal the power of a god.

When they finally returned to the rest of the world, it turned out that their two religious orders had declared open war on each other, and they were forced to choose between their loyalties and each other.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

They chose each other and that choice doomed them.

There was the classic reveal 'oh my mentor's been a baddie the whole time,' and they uncovered that someone was scheming to use the power of the altar to steal one god's divinity to power another. Hadrian's sense of justice told him that he had to stop them, and Lucia could not let him walk into danger alone.

The ending was filled with nonstop action as Lucia and Hadrian fought both sides to the ruins, and they arrived at the altar that was just moments from being powered from the blood from all the clerics, priests, and paladins killing each other.

Hadrian was taken hostage by Lucia's mentor, telling Lucia to kill herself in service to their goddess, to prove that she was worthy of the blessings of the goddess. Lucia was caught in fear for a moment too long, singing the same melody from the beginning, and the mentor killed Hadrian to make him the final sacrifice, as it had been a bluff to see if Lucia was still loyal. Lost in sorrow, Lucia launches at her mentor, interrupting the flow of power and accidentally taking her goddess's power for herself. In a panic, her goddess manifests within the mentor, but Lucia screams as she kills them both.

Lucia went to Hadrian's body, her hands stained in the blood of a god. She cradled him to her chest, crying out as she tried to use the power to save him. But even as Hadrian's body rose, it was clear that his soul was far gone. The final scene was Lucia's actress stumbling to the front of the stage, assuming the same pose she had at the start of the play.

She began to smile manically as the corpse of Hadrian stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, settling his hands over her stomach.

The stage went dark.

"That was amazing," Illnyea sniffled, wiping away tears.

"Did you know it was a tragedy before we began watching this?" Sulaiman asked, glancing at Illnyea with a hint of judgement.

Illnyea adopted an innocent face that fooled no one and Priscilla chuckled at the stink eye Sulaiman gave her.

Kavil was staring at the stage with raised eyebrows. "I have no idea what the heck the sequel is going to be about."

Illnyea perked up. "There's more altars in this world so more mortals steal gods' divinities and a war breaks out between the old gods and new. Their son Alessis grows up in this world and is raised to be a god killer."

"Sounds like blasphemy," Kavil said.

"It's all fake gods," Illnyea said dismissively, "with no connection to any real divine beings. Besides, you can't kill a god in real life, so no one should be offended by what happens in the opera."

Kavil sent Illnyea a dubious look, and the two of them began to bicker about what should be considered blasphemy as they exited the opera house. Priscilla did not add anything to that conversation because it seemed like she was the only one who knew that gods were just as vulnerable as mortals if you knew what you were doing.

"You owe me," Priscilla whispered in a sing-song voice, "Hadrian is super dead."

Sulaiman let out a sigh, but dug through his pockets and handed over the copper coins.

It wasn't a long walk back to their hotel, and the clerk caught them before they walked upstairs to inform them that they'd be able to see the sky-fire show from their balcony if they hurried upstairs.

Illnyea grabbed Sulaiman by the arm and all but dragged him up the stairs to the boys' room. Laughing, Priscilla pulled Kavil up with her as they hurried to keep up with Illnyea's pace. They made it to the balcony's railing just in time to catch the beginning of the show.

Fire shot up from the ground, arcing into the sky above the lake before it exploded outward and shimmered like fireworks. But instead of dissipating, the fire shifted and changed within the air into a new pattern, a flower with nearly a hundred petals.

The fire was constantly moving from one pattern to the next and she realized that the performance was meant to show the passing of time through plants. Music was emanating from somewhere, a bright and excited tune for spring, then a robust melody increasing in tempo for summer, before slowing down into mellower tunes for fall, and finally ending on a slow, high pitched note for winter.

Priscilla felt overwhelming awe at the display of magic, at the beauty and spectacle, and couldn't tear her eyes away from the fire swirling like an ice storm.

"It's beautiful," Priscilla whispered after wetting her lips with tongue as she had unwillingly watched the show with jaw agape. Kavil hadn't yet let go of her hand, bringing it up towards the railing as he tightened his grip.

"It really is," Kavil agreed.

"I'll go get some drinks," Illnyea said quietly, pushing away from the railing before anyone could protest. Priscilla thought about calling her sister back, but Illnyea must be thirsty if she was leaving so quickly.

Priscilla looked towards Sulaiman, about to ask how he liked the sky-fire show but the words faltered as she realized he had leaned towards her, forearms resting on the railing. He had taken off his mask and it hung loosely in his hand.

Sulaiman was staring at Priscilla, his black eyes slightly narrowed, and mouth slightly parted like when he was reading one of his books and had been engrossed in the content. But his head was tilted down, his gaze locked onto something a little lower than her eyes, lower than her nose, on the bottom half of her face.

When Sulaiman's eyes met hers, they widened in shock, and then he glanced away quickly, his fingers tightening on the railing.

"It's quite the show of precision and mystery of magic," Sulaiman said, his words coming a beat too fast as he looked away. His face was illuminated by the icy glow of the magic, just enough to show his red tinged cheeks.

Priscilla blinked at Sulaiman.

Then she blinked again as her eyes must not be working. She followed Sulaiman's gaze, but fire seemed just as colorful as it had just been.

Her brain was jumping to crazy conclusions based on her faulty eyes.

If Priscilla's eyes weren't broken like evidence suggested and her intuition was correct…

Then it meant that Sulaiman was now embarrassed after getting caught staring at Priscilla's lips when she wasn't paying attention.

And that…

Priscilla didn't know what to feel about that.

Sulaiman was attractive.

That was an objective fact Priscilla couldn't deny with his broad shoulders, trim waist, and a face with cheekbones and eyebrows that looked like it had been chiseled by an artist to frame darkly expressive eyes. But most of the time, she was able to ignore those features because they were friends first and foremost and friends didn't ogle friends. She appreciated Sulaiman for his unwavering loyalty, the way his analytical brain was always turning the situation over in his mind, how his mushy heart was so at odds with his gruff and solemn nature, and even if he wasn't attractive, Priscilla still would want to spend time with him because of those traits, no matter how much they bickered.

Sulaiman trusted her and that meant so fucking much to her. Priscilla would never betray his trust when she knew that it was such a fragile thing he rarely gave out, a precious gift that Priscilla still marveled she had earned.

But sometimes… sometimes Priscilla wasn't able to rationalize away her attraction, couldn't just ignore it or blame the situation on misunderstanding social cues. She often went still in moments like these where she couldn't deflect easily, unsure of what to do or say because she was so afraid of ruining what they had, and now she stared blankly at the end of the sky-fire show.

There have been more moments like this lately where Priscilla's mind screeched to a halt because she couldn't forcibly turn a blind eye with the belief that whoever she was talking to didn't know what they were doing.

Many of these moments lately have been with Kavil because sometimes…

Sometimes the healer's eyes would go soft when he's looking at her, listening to her ramble about one of the creatures she had read about, lips curling in a smile like he couldn't help it when he saw Priscilla. Sometimes, Kavil leaned into her space, fluttering his copper eyes as he stared at her through his eyelashes like he had never heard of the concept of shame. Sometimes, the light caught Kavil's eyes just right that Priscilla thought she might get lost in them before she could focus on what he was actually saying.

Priscilla swallowed as Kavil's thumb ran over the back of her hand as if he sensed she was tense and was doing his best to soothe her like it was second nature.

Sometimes Priscilla wondered.

It was a dangerous thing to let your mind start wondering because then you might wonder about what the future might hold – to wonder just how relationships might grow and change if given a chance. Sometimes you might wonder what it might be like to be completely wrapped up in someone's arms safe in the knowledge they would keep the world at bay. You might wonder what it'd be like to wake up to their smile for the rest of your life, might wonder what it would be like to fall asleep with your legs entangling with theirs.

But she always cut the wondering short because it scared her.

The world was at stake and she was barely keeping her head above water as she tried to undo the damage the cult had already wrecked upon the land while simultaneously trying to stop further plots when all she had was her wits and fists. There had been too many close calls already, and this was child's play compared to the shit they were going to encounter in a few years. Sometimes she wondered if she'd even make it to the end of this story alive, or if she would suffer the original's fate despite her best efforts — unceremoniously beheaded in front of Illnyea's party, which would hurt them so much more than when 'Priscilla' had been an enemy.

It was difficult enough to skirt around her knowledge of TDE when she talked to her friends, to find ways to communicate the knowledge that burned like lead in her mind. Imagining walking that tightrope with someone who trusted her with their heart terrified her because she was never going to be able to give them one hundred percent of herself, and they would start to resent her for it or attempt to learn the secrets she had so carefully kept from them.

Such foolish pursuit of romance could ruin everything, ruin their trust and bond, distract them from the dangers around them, and it may very well get them all killed.

"Priscilla?" asked Kavil quietly, his voice knocking Priscilla out of whatever strange mood had taken her. "Are you alright?"

Asha pushed concern into their bond as the artifact sensed Priscilla's change in mood, reinforced with the promise to listen. Priscilla didn't know how to respond but tried to hide her indecisive emotions.

"Of course," Priscilla said, brightening her smile reflexively as she looked at him. "I was just thinking it's such a shame we'll only be spending one day in Roydorn."

"You're right," Kavil sighed, finally letting go of Priscilla's hand to lean against the railing. "Today was incredible, Priscilla, the restaurant, the opera, and this…" He gestured towards the sky with a wonder struck expression.

Kavil glanced towards her, pleased copper eyes softening as he looked at first at Priscilla and then Sulaiman. "Thank you, truly, for giving me the chance to see the world. Words… words can't describe how grateful I am that you two came into my life."

Those words, said in that tone, made it hard to pretend, but Priscilla must.

Pretending she was ignorant was safer. Pretending she hadn't noticed where Sulaiman's eyes had lingered was safer. Pretending she didn't hear the softness in Kavil's voice was safer. Pretending she had never entertained thoughts of romance was safest.

(A part of her was terrified of the moment where the wool would be forcefully ripped from her eyes and she was forced to make a decision she couldn't take back, but she shied away from thoughts of the future because nothing came from borrowing tomorrow's trouble.)

"You're welcome," Priscilla said, though the words seemed inadequate because Kavil in TDE had once been one of the reasons she woke up in the morning. To have him now thank her was something straight from a dream. "I'm glad I met you too, don't know if I'd be able to live without you now that I've had you in my life."

The truth was heavy and raw in her voice and Kavil smiled shyly, glancing away as he scratched his cheek.

Sulaiman said gruffly, "I… I am glad to have met you as well. My life is better for it."

Kavil's smile turned into a beaming grin, and Priscilla knew that she couldn't look at that smile a second longer or she might stop pretending, giving in to the temptation to wonder.

"I think I'm going to need a bath before bed," Priscilla said, and it wasn't even a lie so the words flowed easily off her tongue without a pang of regret, "so I probably should head back to my room."

"Sleep well, Priscilla," Kavil said.

"Night you two," Priscilla said, waggling her fingers at both Kavil and Sulaiman, who dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Priscilla passed by Illnyea on the way out of the room. Illnyea had a bucket of ice and a pitcher of cooled water.

"You're leaving?" Illnyea said, eyebrows raised high. She glanced at Priscilla and then past her into the room, like Priscilla leaving had been a surprise.

"Need a bath," Priscilla said lightly, "won't take long, so you can come and sleep soon."

Illnyea nodded, though she looked a little lost.

Priscilla sat in the tub as stared at the bubbles. Asha bobbed in the water, having changed into a rubber duck.

"Do you want to talk about what's bothering you, Master?" Asha asked quietly.

"Not really," Priscilla said as she pulled her knees to her chest.

Maybe one day, when it was too hard to go with the safest route, Priscilla would talk with Asha because the artifact might be the only person that would be able to understand her trepidation, as Asha was the only person who knew that she wasn't the original. She shuddered at imagining that information coming out and rested her head on her knees, her wet hair blocking out the light.

The little duck version of Asha drifted through the water until the artifact was back into Priscilla's field of vision.

"Then, do you want to talk about the plan for the capital?"

Now that was a safe topic, a fantastic way to rid Priscilla's brain of such useless wondering.

"We'll be trying to stop a murder," Priscilla said, slowly untwisting herself.

"Like usual then, but how are we doing that?" Asha asked in a light, teasing tone and Priscilla laughed.

"We're going to have to get in contact with the target," Priscilla said carefully, "and she… runs in circles a bit higher than ours."

Asha was quiet, though Priscilla could feel the artifact's mixed emotions at that statement, trepidation and reluctance.

"You should not attempt this on your own, Master," Asha finally said. "Noble's games are dangerous, even without the lunatic's involvement."

"Have you dealt with nobles before?" Priscilla asked, keeping her tone purposefully light though she knew she couldn't hide her curiosity from Asha.

There was a brief complicated storm of emotions before Asha bottled them up, saying tersely, "Yes. And I regretted such entanglement."

"I can't save her if I don't get involved," Priscilla said, and Asha felt a sort of reluctant acceptance.

"You must be careful, Master," Asha said quietly. "You have a tongue made of silver but theirs are tinged with poison — do not enter that pit of vipers without someone to watch your back."

"I have you," Priscilla said, though she knew that wasn't what Asha meant.

"I was useless when you nearly drowned," Asha said, voice filled with barely repressed regret and grief, "I felt you drown, felt your panic and fear and I could do nothing except watch you as you were slowly dying in front of me."

Priscilla drew the duck closer, cradling Asha in her palms as her heart broke for her artifact. She hadn't thought of how Asha would have been affected by the incident and now Priscilla regretted not finding a moment to speak with Asha before this. She pressed her forehead against the smooth rubber surface, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Asha," Priscilla whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, I'm sorry for upsetting you," Asha said, tone far softer now. "I just… just want you to be safe, and I'm not enough right now."

Priscilla wanted to say that Asha was more than enough, that the artifact an irreplaceable existence to her, but she held her tongue. Asha could feel those emotions in Priscilla, responding to Priscilla was the same soft, warm hug to her soul.

"Okay, Asha," Priscilla said quietly as she stared at the duck's golden eyes. "I'll make sure someone comes with me when I start making moves."

Asha's relief and gratitude leaked into their bond without the need for words to pass between them.

"You're going to get to try out a bunch of different forms," Priscilla said, clearing her throat as she changed the topic, "as I don't think I can get away with repeating outfits."

"I look forward to it, Master," Asha said. "What dress do you plan to wear first?"

They spent the rest of the bath quietly talking about what Priscilla would wear to impress the nobles and by the time she finished, she felt less rattled by the moment from earlier.

One day, she'd have to stop pretending, but for now, Priscilla would focus on more immediate problems like figuring out how to prevent the assassination of a person who had no idea she even existed.