Hell yeah, 100 likes! I'll be celebrating by commissioning some cover art, something that isn't AI generated.
Naberoa, under the same calm composure from before, appeared irate. Golden-orange eyes, half lidded, had this subtle ferocity I had come to recognize from my mother and experience around women. If I were still 12, I would have been intimidated.
Dara was not me, sadly, having shuffled off my lap and moving back to stand, visibly shrinking, then standing straight as though wanting to be defiant. “Naberoa, h'afl dryorsa.”
Never meeting my gaze, Nabe had hers on Dara since entering.
Walking toward the table, she placed her signature suitcase on its surface, breaking eye contact for a moment.
Her appearance was new. Instead of the white overcoat, black skirt and leggings, she wore slim fitting, charcoal-grey jeans with a pale yellow shirt with sleeves and a hem that flared at its ends, accentuated under a white midriff jacket of an unknown leather. As though ready for an evening in bars and night clubs, she wore her black hair to her right, leaving her left shoulder exposed. Even her face, as natural as it appeared, was touched with makeup, with black eyeliner and a different shade of red lipstick. Why she would abandon the professional wardrobe for the 9-out-10-hot-night-club look I could guess, already finding a few reasons.
Silence filled the air as she stared down Dara, the poor girl visibly shaking. After another second, Nabe spoke plainly and not happy with only a hint of vexation, “Eaara hol lurie. Pmilpoarary egala giemuryisac sarl aras aaras.”
Dara became stricken. “V-vylolur die?”
At this moment, I stuffed my cock back in the boxers and pants. Now it seemed inappropriate to be on partial display.
“Ay lu col rieau su pievrianos delitau.”
Turning to me, Dara began pleading, “Thelamien, tell her… tell her–”
“Lu col m'afr sas wir, m'afr sas die.” There was now an edge to Nabe.
The blond began shouting back at her. “Xiyaur aur orfmas! Wynsas pphes lu eaara wsary su fryoien oc aeiirian!?”
Still composed and silent, she stared down at the quivering mess that Dara became. “Lu ay rieau su tsaff litamaiayse?”
Tears streamed from the blond girl. Rather suddenly, she strode off to the master bedroom, the glass passage parting and shutting on its own for her.
Gripping hands were tight to my pants as my arms grew heavy. I tried straightening my back as a way of mitigating the stress, regaining some dignity after having been intimidated (me and my big head), realizing the semi-embarrassing state which Nabe had caught us in. It felt like I was a child, again, being disciplined by my grandmother for eating one of her red orchids.
Neither of us said anything, both of us trading a casual glance, waiting on Dara to return. I thought I’d try quipping something clever, anything to diffuse the tension, but nothing came to me.
Soon enough she returned, dressed as she was yesterday if a little disheveled. She quickly came to me as I stood, standing on her tiptoes to give a kiss which I hastily met.
“Good-by,” she whispered before rushing to the entrance, avoiding eye contact with Nabe.
“Dara, wait–”
She was gone as soon as the doors closed. I was left stunned.
Not even a second and Nabe was already gesturing for me to sit at the table, now more monotone. “Thelamein… Tay-lor.”
The stare I gave her was that of incredulity, watching her unpack the not-iPad from her suitcase, setting up the same equipment from last time as I approached.
“Are you gonna tell me what that was about?” I asked, standing over her as she sat down on one of the chairs.
For the moment, her attention was to the pad, linking the peripheral and quickly tapping its display as soon as it shone to life.
When she finished, she gestured to a chair next to her, the device translating in that same British-Germanic accent, “Thelamein, please sit.”
Slowly I did so, keeping my gaze to her.
She grabbed the sticky pads of the peripheral and stood, yet before she could apply them I gently grabbed her arm. That caused her to stop.
“I’d like to know why you kicked her out.”
The pad garbled Vinlis back to her.
It was a casual observance on me, her golden-orange eyes now seemingly relaxed, maintained even as sat herself down. My grip was removed.
There was an exasperated exhale, and with the straightest face, she claimed, “Daratrine overstepped herself.”
“How so?”
“In your past life, how many partners have you had?”
My brows furrowed at the question. “How is that relevant?”
“Please answer my question.”
“… One,” and it was barely even that, if two dates with the same girl counted for anything.
She nodded subtly, more to herself. “What she was doing was manipulating you.”
Like you’re doing now? It was something my petty mind wanted to ‘ask.’
“Your gender is prized amongst the settlements, a sign of prosperity, virility, youth, and unity. For the religious bitch to take you from here would be disastrous for Green Rook,” Nabe added.
The casual insult almost threw me off, and it only fueled my own irritation. “And you think I would have gone with her?”
“Absolutely.”
“… But you’re keeping me here,” so it’s not as though I could have, I finished internally.
“We’re not imprisoning you. You do have autonomy in choosing a home, but I assure you that anywhere else will treat you under similar, if not worse, restrictions.”
Without context of what the other settlements were like, and beside what Dara had shared, there was little I could argue on that point. It was, again, either to take her at her word or leave it. “Ok, but did you have to kick her out?”
“Yes, she overstepped her boundaries.”
“What other ‘boundaries’?”
Wait, how does she know what Dara said?
Before she could answer, there was realization which struck me. “You’ve been watching us.”
“Yes, I have.”
Part of me thought that I should have been angrier. Perhaps the constant, looming presence of surveillance and the erosion of privacy were accepted realities in my past life, that the constant use of datamining social apps, the bombardment of personalized ads, and rumors of government ‘oversight’ made me comfortable with it. After all, why care about privacy when there’s nothing to hide?
Her casual admittance had softened the blow, for if it was kept secret I would have started to be paranoid of hidden cameras.
“To answer your other question: manipulating a person in a reduced state of mind for personal or a state’s gain is beyond immoral conduct. This is not considering that she acted under loyal obligation to me, and by extension to Green Rook.”
Did she just call me retarded? “Funny, I feel completely fine, so how exactly do I fit the ‘reduced state of mind?’
“You lack basic knowledge of the greater world of Kessithi, much less about our customs, laws, economics, even our language.”
“And yet I can still reason well enough.”
“That is irrelevant. Would you be able to fully understand and appreciate the environment you find yourself in?”
“… No.” The bitch had me there. There was so much that I still didn’t understand about their world. Sure, I could add 2 and 2 to get 4, and I understood that cutting myself on a knife (or because I fell from a gate) was generally bad, but those were baseline requirements, at least with the ignorance I suffer from.
“That is why she had to leave.”
“Dara hardly did anything that I wasn’t capable of seeing through,” I lamely defended. Part of me knew it was partial bullshit.
And so did she. “Are you?”
“Yes… Will you bring her back?”
There was a shift in her eyes that I almost didn’t catch. “Why would you want her back?”
“Probably because I like her.”
Nabe shook her head slightly. “Tay-lor, it is rather foolish to fall in love with every woman that spreads her legs for you. What you’re experiencing is a common issue among young procreates and girls: infatuation.”
It was strange to feel both intense resentment and guilt. “And yet she was the only one who could understand me without needing a computer! What else was I supposed to feel, hatred!?”
She blinked a few times, subtly nodding. “In hindsight, it is… regrettable that she was the only one available that suited your needs. There will be a remedy, that I promise.”
I remained silent for a moment, still eyeing her carefully. “Will she be back?”
“Unlikely, for she has been banished from the borough.”
“That’s extreme.”
“Let us both disagree on that.”
Silence again took me, and she added, “I’m sorry you feel this way.”
So am I.
“I doubt you came up here just to address this,” I stated, feeling the anger slowly drain out of me, a kind of sadness replacing it.
“It was one item that needed addressing. One other is this.” She gestured with the bundle of cords and sticky pads that still remained in her hand.
We had done another ‘diagnosis’ of my ‘enneagram,’ whatever that was still.
When she had applied and removed the ends of the peripheral, I noticed how she smelled of perfume, subtle enough that it wasn’t overbearing, a mix with lavender and of something woody and sweet. It was intoxicating, so much so that I had been in a better state of mind I might have said something.
“How am I?” I asked as she looked over the results on her pad.
“… Stable.”
“Any chance of me being un-stable?” I still had little to no clue what I was being checked for. It was assumed that something fucked happened to Thelamein’s brain or mind (probably dementia?), hence Nabe’s use of the term ‘enneagram.’ The question of what they had done to put me inside her seemed tied to my (or our?) wellbeing, and this is becoming a greater concern.
“Unlikely, and as more days pass the probability of enneagram failure will be close to zero.”
“… What happened to Thelamein?”
Nabe stilled for a second. “She suffered an enneagram failure.”
“You already mentioned that, but why did that happen?”
There was no answer as she finished her examination, closing several tabs, then looking at me. “There are too many variables.”
“You don’t know?”
She shook her head. “Only Amsa would know. Please, be assured that you are as healthy as can be.”
Who the hell is ‘Amsa?’ And what does ‘healthy as can be’ even mean?
“I take it that learning Vinlis is still a need?” Nabe pressed on.
Deciding I wasn’t going to get much else, it took a second to gather my thoughts. “Yeah, if you have anyone else.”
“There is a tutor you may be happy with, a recommendation from friends of ours. Pyria will help with more than just our language, for her speciality is also in basic literacy of computers, history, politics, culture, geography, and the sciences.”
“She sounds like a children’s school teacher.”
For a moment, Nabe seemed confused. “That is one of her other titles, yes.”
Oh… great. Perhaps it was best to start from the ground up, even if it meant being treated as an ignorant child… again.
I leaned back into my chair, heaving a sigh.
“Is something else amiss?” She leaned forward subtly, folding her arms on top of her legs.
“No.”
“Are you comfortable here? I can have something arranged to fix certain issues.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
We gazed at each other, neither of us saying anything for a moment. It felt awkward.
“Nabero?”
Blinking several times, she leaned back, broken from whatever spell she was under. Standing suddenly she stepped right in front of me, gingerly grabbing my right hand, careful of the healing cut.
I eyed her as she both examined and felt it, her caressing thumb sending sparks through nerves and spurring my blood. The strangeness of this initially stopped me from asking again, “Nabe?”
“Hmm…” she released it, brushing aside some of her strands of hair and stepping back with hands clasped. “Are you well enough for new guests?”