Onward...

Chapter 33

A week after Mira and Hetcha departed, the valley looked like it was holding some kind of undead festival. I had placed all the finished buildings topside in the valley and the whole necropolis had turned up to explore it. The shopkeepers and skeletons without illusions mingled and exchanged notes and ideas. I was flooded with design modification requests, plot change suggestions--everything under the sun.

I was overwhelmed with artistic work, and it was glorious. While all this was going on, they playfully used poker chips in lieu of coin or bartered for each other’s goods. I was having fun watching the proceedings from the lava pool where I lounged with Stalin and Blackmore. It would have been fun to be up with them, but I’d felt strange being out and about.

When I’d first placed my core, it hadn’t been unusual for me to explore outside on my own. I’d stopped a little while after my first interface upgrade but hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now I kept making excuses not to go out even though there was a literal party at my doorstep. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the upgrades I’d bought or something that had built up over time.

Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if it was an actual issue caused by the system or just anxiety on my part. A lot had happened recently, and I did undeniably prefer to be close to my core when I felt stressed out. Even so, I didn’t have an immediate reason to be anxious. Trying to figure out why I felt off was frustrating.

“What are you looking for, Mistress?” Stalin asked me curiously.

“Huh?” I asked, jolted out of my reverie.

“You keep scanning the crowd,” Stalin clarified. He’d decided to lounge behind me, letting me rest my head against his side.

“Oh, no one… Maybe…” I hesitated. I wanted to say Henry, but it was a lie. I knew where he was at even without looking at my map. The one I was looking for was the little dot right next to his in the training arena I’d constructed. Since things had calmed down with Elim and his family I’d only had one major thing to worry about.

“I was hoping Henry would convince Andrea to come out,” I admitted. He’d been the one to suggest it might do her some good on top of being helpful. She was a living human from the current era who had lived nearby. Her opinion of the town would have been the most relevant one when it came to making sure the town wasn’t too weird.

The problem was she was still in the early stages of processing what had happened to her. She didn’t want to socialize with anyone, let alone participate in their fun. My initial thought had been to have her participate in the league for gaining combat experience, but she’d refused to be on a team. Her revenge script was a solo act, though she’d gladly fight a hostile group.

“I’m going to be in my chamber for a while,” I said as I got out of the pool. It had been nice to lounge but not enough of a distraction. It was time I did something, rather than hoping it would improve if I passed the issue on to someone else. With a sigh, I moved myself to my chamber of machinations and then called Henry.

“Henry, would you mind coming to my office?” I asked when he picked up. He’d been trying to coax Andrea for the better part of two hours, it was time to stop. Her mentality wasn’t good but trying to force her before she was ready wouldn’t make things better. Like with my chicken dinner fuck up, she’d find a reason to reach out when she was ready.

There was a pause, then I could hear a whistling whoosh of air that was a skeletal equivalent of a sigh. Chris could make a host of sounds, but sighing was a new universal option for enhanced skeletons. Technically they could converse aloud like humans, but they didn’t unless the illusion was active. It didn’t seem like a feature of the upgrade though, so much as a personal preference.

“I-I un-undersststand Mis-istress. M-Miss A-Andrea, I-I h-have o-other du-duties s-so I’ll I’ll b-be t-taking m-my l-leave,” Henry said gently. I could almost see the bow.

“Fine,” Andrea answered in monotone. It obviously wasn’t, and Henry and I sighed in tandem. Startled I laughed so hard I snorted. There was silence on the other end of the call, then it disconnected. A moment later my text notice dinged.

“That was unfair, Mistress. I would have laughed too if I could.”

Henry’s message only made me laugh harder. I didn’t as a rule breathe, yet I found myself out of breath. My sides and cheeks ached, my new mouth unaccustomed to prolonged use. By the time Henry arrived, I was floating on my back pressing my sore cheeks with my hands in a vain attempt to soothe them. In the wake of my laughter, I was tired, and I felt like he was too. It was something about the light of his orbs that seemed a touch dull compared with their normal jewel tone.

I’d laughed and he’d nearly done so too, but we weren’t dealing with a laughing matter. For me, it was like when exhausted parents got thrown up on and started laughing. It wasn’t funny, but it was, somehow, in a way only a fellow sufferer would understand. I snorted, wondering if I’d written condom ads for a living or something, going by the negative slant of my knowledge of parenthood.

“I know you wanted to keep trying, but I think she still needs space,” I said by way of explanation when he arrived. There wasn’t anything like a twelve-step program for trauma. Even if there was, I didn’t know enough to attempt that kind of treatment. How she’d deal with what happened and how much we could help was something we’d only figure out as we went along.

Henry nodded without enthusiasm before sitting down at the makeshift stone desk I’d left for him. He sat with his arms pillowing his head as he laid on the desktop for a few minutes, lost in thought. Unlike a living being, we didn’t rest and reset by sleeping. We had the privilege of being tormented by our worries at all hours.

Andrea wasn’t something I could ‘fix’. Mental health had been a complicated field on my own world, and I hadn’t been an avid student of science. Even if I had been, I didn’t have any of the tools, medicines, or professional resources I’d need to really be effective. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Henry didn’t have a concept of therapy. He just had a desire to help, thwarted by no idea of how to do so. Same boat, different paths to the same trouble.

“Honestly, I barely managed to talk to her about going outside. She just wanted to train, and I ended up going along with it again” Henry wrote in the book we used to converse after sitting up.

“It’s frustrating, but it might be the best for now,” I started. I planned to give him some shorthand summaries of what I could remember on mental health topics but stopped. When we’d been resetting Andrea’s build, he’d been able to sympathize with her when I couldn’t.

“You said you remember your human life like a story. I don’t have anything like that. I remember things about human life, facts and figures, but nothing personal. No rain on my skin or the smell of daffodils,” I admitted. Henry wrote something but covered it up immediately. He only revealed it after a few moments of me looking pointedly between his hand and his orbs.

“What’s a daf’o dill?” his message read and I chuckled. This world had some familiar flowers, but its flora wasn’t a one to one match with my old world. Getting out my pen I answered by drawing a pair, one solid yellow and the second one white with the egg yolk gold middle. On a whim I added a third drawing of the ‘bridal crown’ variety as they had a jasmine-like smell. I couldn’t convey scent, but the flower’s design was different enough from the other two to warrant adding it.

On the next page, I started to compose what I wanted to say. I still mostly spoke to Henry but writing for longer thoughts was easier. It made me stop and think before committing words to the page.

“Back to what I was getting at before, there was a science for mental health in my world. I wasn’t a practitioner, at least going by how little I know about it. So, I’m trying to use what I do remember and that suggests giving her space and letting her reach out instead of trying to coax or force her. I don’t want you to give up and back off totally though. You can’t help someone who won’t accept it, but you’re more qualified to get her to feel comfortable and open up when she’s ready,” I wrote. I felt like I’d written down my intent more clearly than anything I’d have said. It was too easy to get caught up in trying to word what you wanted to say and miss a beat or tangle up the meaning.

“I think I understand what you mean, but I disagree about being more qualified. I honestly didn’t consider that she might not be ready. I just wanted her to feel better quickly. A selfish thing to do on my part,” Henry wrote and I was surprised. I hadn’t expected him to make a counter-argument, but I supposed it made sense. If he’d said something similar about me, I’d have denied it too.

“How about we agree were both lousy at helping?”

I offered with a smirk he probably couldn’t see. He looked up at me then nodded slowly. Neither of us agreed about the other but wouldn’t accept praise for ourselves. It was ridiculous but a little sweet too. My initial impression of him as being shy and easily overwhelmed had changed since he was first summoned. He was quiet and prone to getting lost in his hobbies, but thoughtful and kind.

Now that we were talking, I found I liked his company but hesitated to spend more time with him. My position of dungeon master complicated every aspect of any relationship I had with anyone. Henry wasn’t an exception and if anything, he was one of the more tangled moral quandaries.

As I mused about the situation, a text notice caught my attention. Seeing the name on it I almost swore. Brun Shale Femur’s design appointment had been interrupted before. I’d arranged a new one and finished the design, but I’d also promised to spend some time with her and tweak it after placement since she’d had to wait.

I lucked out since she was asking to postpone it until nighttime. That I had forgotten only to be reminded made me feel like a dick, but I didn’t mention it and just agreed.

“I’m supposed to visit Brun for a consultation tonight. Do you want to go with me?” I asked Henry. It happened impulsively but I didn’t regret asking.

“Y-yes,” He replied instantly.

“We could also work on your shop in the meantime. Last time we didn’t get around to trying the alternative color pallets or settling on your appearance,” I added. His shop was physically done and placed but had more detail than most which had resulted in a lot of fine-tuning.

“A-alright,” Henry said carefully. There was a hesitance in his voice that had nothing to do with his stutter.

“My color sense is fairly foreign. If you're worried about offending me with an idea, I won’t be,” I said to try and reassure him.

He held up a hand as if to gesture as he spoke but pulled it back and remained silent. Looking away from me he seemed to struggle with something. Not sure what was the matter I waited, hoping he’d decide to tell me. In the end he took his pen back up.

“Dawn said you let her make the choices about how she looked. May I do the same?”

He wrote slowly, pausing between the sentence’s as if uncertain if he wanted to continue. It was a simple request and one I didn’t mind obliging. The way it bothered him left me wondering if he abhorred his own appearance or if it was something about the idea of me changing it that was the problem.

“Yes. I should have offered first,” I said quickly.

“Th-then c-can you p-please n-not look-look?” He added, eyes burning brighter for a moment. That was a more difficult request since I still needed to be the one altering the options. I also didn’t know of a way to “close” my orbs. The idea of not being able to see hadn’t ever seemed useful since my vision wasn’t as delicate as a human’s. My cheerful green and blue flames couldn’t be gouged out or sun-damaged.

Thinking about how the interface worked I felt like it should be possible if a little complicated. It operated off mental commands. So as long as I knew what I wanted I should be able to manipulate it, even if I couldn’t see it. Even so, it wasn’t like I had it memorized; I’d need a visual aid.

Opening up the interface for Dawn I made a quick image copy of it and left that in front of myself. I moved the pop up and fixed it in place in share mode to my left so Henry could see it. I didn’t change it to him until after I turned a bit to the side so I couldn’t see his image, even by accident.

“Okay, ask me if you have any questions,” I said gently.

“Th-thank y-you Mis-Mistress,” Henry replied. After a few minutes of reading the options he started letting me know which ones to enable or disable. Those alone might have given me a picture of what was going on, but they were generic. “Scar 1” might be anywhere on his body and as small as a pinky nail or cover a third of his body.

When he had me enable and enhance a tattoo, I was surprised but managed not to look. I laughed nervously, knowing I’d been unfortunately close to breaking my promise. The process took a bit more than fifteen minutes and was intimate in a nerve-racking kind of way. I hadn’t really thought about it before but in most stories, it was just this sort of secret-keeping the protagonist fucked up.

Being allowed to know something was flattering but being asked to look away was powerful. When he was done, I enabled the illusion and he made use of the mirror I’d added before to inspect himself. I expected him to say something eventually but after a long silence, I received a text.

“If it’s alright, I’ll meet you at the town entrance when its time,” he’d written.

My curiosity was killing me. I felt cheated he hadn’t spoken, but it was probably wise. If he had, I might have looked before he was ready. I didn’t understand the need for such a degree of buildup, but I also didn’t need to. For whatever reason, this was what he wanted.

“I’ll meet you there,” I replied immediately.

I still regretted not taking the issue more seriously with Chris. He accepted his appearance, more or less, but didn’t identify with it much. It was just the one the illusion showed him. If Henry needed some time alone to process, then he would have it.

Without much to do I cycled through a couple deconstruct upgrade cycles on trade items Elim had sent me. It was a soothingly monotonous thing to do. Especially now that my interface would give me an estimated time before I committed to the process and had opened up three extra slots per activity. It wasn’t quite an auto-processing queue. Even so, once I hit my tithe, I could buy some more upgrades and see what happened.

With my mind occupied, I didn’t worry about the possibility of experiencing anxiety if I went out. I would deal with it if it happened. Disappointing both Brun and Henry wasn’t something I would willingly do. Forcibly stopping my mind from drifting, I focused on my busy work.

Elim had assured me things at his ancestral estate were in the final phase before conclusion. He’d also asked his family to be allowed to relocate to the valley once he knew I was putting in a town. It had been a surprising request, but he’d laughingly assured me he trusted me with their safety over anyone but himself.

After explaining about the skeletons, he’d still agreed and said if anything, it was comforting. Given our pact, I could see why he’d view them as guardians rather than loose monsters. It was still a little jarring. Then again, he was a native of a fantasy world. I didn’t know much about major cities in this world. They might be guarded by golems or have protection contracts with dragons. All manner of magical bullshit might be at play in a wealthy or resource-rich area.

Unfortunately, that line of thought and my busy-work both failed to keep me busy for the entire time. Feeling uncomfortable, I went over to the mirror and started looking myself over. I knew I could do random things like manifest a skirt or split my tail into legs, but the alterations were temporary. I sighed as I pressed my forehead against the glass.

After spending so much time thinking about appearance and identity, it was probably normal to feel left out. The problem with eleventh-hour insecurity was that I didn’t have time to do anything about it. My anatomy was odd, which meant it would take time to design something flattering and figure out what colors worked for me. Not that I really wanted clothes. A desire to accessorize myself would have been more accurate than saying I wanted to dress up. The way I visually flattened, and my features became indistinct bothered me, but figuring that out was a whole other hellraiser Rubik's cube.

I gave up and decided to leave a bit early. I remembered I had drinks that might work for skeletons. Popping over to the chaos beverage alcove, I stashed the six-pack in my storage space. Feeling better, I almost left when a sudden idea occurred to me. Going over to the next niche, I looked over the roses Henry had given me. I selected one from the front of the arrangement so it would be easy to put back.

Putting it behind my ear, I took an extra precaution. Using some hairpins, I locked it in place so even if it wanted to, it wouldn’t fall. Checking myself in the mirror I found I liked the effect and how it looked lit by the soft light of my orbs.

Feeling better I moved myself to the entryway of the mine, then started heading for the town. I wanted to soak in the full experience of seeing it emerge and light up the darkness, and I wasn’t disappointed. Not lit up like a place from my world, it still glittered with small magic stone lights and the handheld ones the skeletons used personally.

They didn’t need the lights, able to see in the dark like me, but it was fun to have them anyway. Out in force the skeletons were making their own fun. Some played cards on any level surface, others played instruments for others to listen to. Chris was doing magic tricks. Or at least he was entertaining his comrades as he robbed them.

It was fun to watch and for a long while I just stood and absorbed it. Even if all of my plans failed and my intentions came to nothing, seeing them have fun made my efforts feel valid. I still wanted to attract people and adventurers who were worth the all-mighty points, but I was content. No matter what happened, I’d never see this project as a failure.