The Haunting: A Legend of the Artificer Side Story

Chapter 5

The early pre-dawn rays were coming through, and Innes was apparently already up. Ze was slung over the chaise lounge in the fiction section, buried in a book with a light on above zim. Tibalt yawned as he rubbed at his eyes, and ze looked up to take in the sight of Tibalt in his dressing gown and simple shorts, not a shirt in sight.

"Are you already up?" Tibalt asked with another loud yawn and ze looked back down at the book in zir hands.

"I got distracted," ze replied, and Tibalt drifted over to see what ze was reading.

Greshan Fairytales.

"We're not in Greshan," Tibalt reminded zim, and ze looked back up at him.

"Yes, but two of our five party members are from Greshan," ze replied and then looked back down to flick to the next page. "Elmer has oral traditions I can't read here, and I don't know where you're from at all."

"Neither do I," Tibalt deadpanned and thanked the stars above he had put all of the books from his world in storage. That would have been awkward to explain.

"Were you nomadic as a child?" Innes asked, and Tibalt sat down in the armchair opposite zim.

"A little bit, technically," he replied and tilted his head back. "But, in general, I just don't have a home."

"Well, you have this tower," Innes replied, "so you must be doing something right. I could only dream of having such a place to lay my head."

"Wouldn't you be nobility?" Tibalt asked, and Innes shook zir head no.

"My parents died when I was quite young, and I was fortunate enough to have been taken in as a ward of the local nobility, as my father was a knight that saved the lord's life, but I was not noble, no. Merely adopted," Innes replied. Tibalt tried to pick up any emotions in zir tone, but he failed, as per usual.

"If you were adopted, wouldn't you be treated the same as the lord's children?" Tibalt asked, and Innes's lips peeled back to reveal sharp lines of teeth that looked a lot less intimidating now that Tibalt had lost limbs to fish and come back alive.

"You would think so," Innes replied and flicked to the next page of the book. "No. I was not treated the same. Politics are complicated for Chiis."

"I see," Tibalt said, even though he didn't, but that was alright. He didn't need to understand to empathize. "It's the worst thing to feel othered in your own family."

"Yes," Innes agreed quietly as ze flicked to the next page. "It is."

Awkward silence loomed like a malignant kind of weighted blanket, and Tibalt's brain wandered to the possibility of embroidering a weighted blanket. It would be relatively simple, but it was hard to translate numbers to runes. He could do it, though, he was sure. He just had to use the universal numbering language. His mind wandered off, and then it snapped back into focus as he realized he was just standing there awkwardly in the middle of the room in his pajamas.

"Would you like to help me make breakfast?" he asked awkwardly as he shifted from foot to foot, and Innes blinked.

"Yes," Innes replied as zir thin eyelids slid over zir eyes. "That would be very nice, thank you."

Goddammit, why were ze so polite? It was unnerving.

The two of them made their way down the stairs, and Tibalt entered his kitchen and started categorizing what he would make today. He had brought back eggs from town, and had fresh killed venison in the charmed fridge he had made. Steaks, eggs, and toast?

"It's surprising that you know how to cook," Innes said as Tibalt pulled out the venison and slapped down the slab of meat. He would have to freeze some of this, especially with him leaving, but he would also have to make some jerky.

"Why? Because I'm red?" he asked, and Innes tilted zir head.

"Yes," ze replied. Tibalt nodded a few times as he got out a knife and started cutting off thick slabs of steaks.

"I've heard I'm supposed to be high class," he replied cryptically as he sliced through the meat. "But I don't put much stock into it."

"Were you not raised upper class? I've heard stories of red children being born into poor families being kidnapped and raised as nobility," Innes said, and Tibalt blinked.

What the fuck kind of world did he come into?

"I was raised in a nomadic lifestyle, not involved with any nobility. It didn't exist where I was from," he replied, which was technically true. His father was an airplane mechanic and moved them all around the world for his job. They were never in one place for very long. They just chased the work. He had gotten laid off so many times. "I had to know how to cook to survive."

"I see," Innes said, and Tibalt rapidly realized ze wasn't going to help them cook, only watch him do it. Well. That was fine. Tibalt didn't mind the company.

Tibalt kept up on his slicing, separating the steak into pieces, and then he thought about Elmer having access to a knife at the dinner table, and his nice mahogany table, and then he started chopping the steak into bite sized cubes.

"Do you think..." Innes started to say as Tibalt dumped it all in a bowl, and Tibalt paused and tilted his head as he dumped in salt and pepper.

"Mm?"

"Do you think you and I could have a discussion about magical theory, at some point?" Innes asked, and then ducked zir head. "I... You misplaced a journal in your fairytale section, and I thought your thoughts on the subject were fascinating."

"Oh, is that where that went?" Tibalt asked, and Innes nodded once. "Yeah, sure, we can discuss magical theory. We can do that right now, if you want."

"I would like that very much."

"Go grab me some cilantro and a lemon and I'll start."

"Cilantro...?"

"... Oh. You probably don't know what that is."

"Ah... no."

"Well, shit. My hands are covered in venison juice."

"You can show it to me and I can cut it...?"

"Fuck it, why not?"

So, he was finally getting a magically minded friend. Fucking finally, someone to talk to.

Tibalt was excited.