Rain Harlow
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Chapter 9: And No Instagram, Either!
🕑 Added 2023-07-19 04:47:01 +0000 UTC“That’s splendid, my lord,” the servant said to the young man in the most neutral tone to ever exist, nothing at all indicating he had any clue or curiosity what was being referred to.
The young man blinked and looked through the mirror at the servant, lifting a hand to wave with two fingers in a dismissive gesture. The servant bowed and left the vicinity at that point, and there was a sound of a closing door soon after.
Sammy drummed her fingers on the throne arm as she stared. A brooding, weird, and spoiled noble. Is this really someone to bother with? There’s probably inherent risk in getting tied to such a high-profile sort.
“What sort of secrets hide behind this veneer, hmm?” The man spoke as he returned his eyes to ‘meet’ again. He then traced something in the air with an elaborate hand sign and spoke a kind of quick chant in a strange tongue that hummed and resonated in an alien way, and she knew immediately that it was magic.
It was over before she even thought to react. She felt only something like a brief ‘raised hairs’ kind of tingle in her Mirror Sense.
The man squinted at the mirror with a hand brought up to his chin. “A presence. And not magic, are you? Or is it disguised? Most curious. Well? Is someone there? Can you speak? Were you spying on that boring travesty of a social occasion last night, then?”
Sammy’s mouth had dropped open. He’s some kind of wizard?! He can’t be high level though. Ugh, good to know they can so easily know I’m here. Glad it isn’t passive…
“I could always just report this, you know,” he continued, crossing his arms and shrugging. “A shame, because all I ask is for something interesting to happen.”
Sighing, Sammy prepared to use her audio trick but made it a false voice, drawing partially on her friend Jen, and adding some modulation. She wasn’t admitting anything quickly with this one. “Maybe someone else is as bored as you are.”
He raised his eyebrows, though a smile grew on his face. “Watching other people eat and vomit vacuous words about duels, crops, and who’s humping who is your idea of entertainment?”
“Not exactly. It did end up boring me and I left. The toasts were interesting.”
The young man scoffed. “You should get out more. At the very least, you should hear instead my uncle ranting about Duke Burnstire, whom he loathes to the heavens. And who could blame him? He’s quite insufferably loathsome.”
“I did get that impression.”
“Distasteful, necessary evils of cooperation. Piracy and raids along the Endless Crescent are getting worse and worse, enough that the Dominion decided to stick its nose in Western affairs.”
“What sort of raiders?”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Who exactly are you, that you ask such a well-known question?”
“Who and what do you think I am?”
He smirked at her dodginess, then lifted one hand in a quick shrug. “A spirit or perhaps a very sheltered sort that taught themselves scrying magic somehow.”
Sammy considered whether she should just lie and take on such a role, but she said, “Would either of those be a problem?”
With another smile walked over to a table, picked up a fine, opaque glass, then turned back to the mirror and held it up, not quite drinking yet. “No. As both are rather interesting. To the unspoken worry, ‘is he going to report me?’ Also no. If-” and he paused to take a sip from his glass, “you tell me who you are and show yourself to me.”
Cocky bastard. “That’s rather bold of you. I have no way of knowing whether you’re lying and just pressing for more information to tattle with.”
“You’ve already been trying to eavesdrop and spy here, seeing the stars know what. You’re simply correcting your own poor manners by introducing yourself finally. Wouldn’t you say?”
“No, I wouldn’t. I require your word not to reveal my identity, and then I will.”
He rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink, then with an exaggerated, put-upon manner, he crossed his free hand over his heart and said, “I do solemnly swear not to reveal your precious identity to anyone.”
Deific Vow received and enforced. Violation will enact a permanent curse.
“What?!” It came from two mouths. There was also the sound of breaking glass and splashing as the man dropped his drink.
An oath was offered and accepted. Such oaths cannot be sworn to deities and then broken without consequence.
With a horrified expression, the man in front of the mirror pointed his finger in accusation. “You tricked me, devil!”
Goddamn this System shit!
Immediately, Sammy pulled the portal close, forging a two-way and dropping any audio pretenses. She maintained as much of a serene expression as she could and said, “Young lord, I am no devil and I did not trick you. I didn’t even know. I swear to you that is the truth, and I’m… sorry.”
Still angry, he swept a hand in the air and said, “How convenient, the System can’t verify that one, you, you…” He trailed off, words dying as he stared at her in the mirror, blinking.
Anger gone like a vapor, he stepped closer, eyes blatantly going up and down and back over her presented form, the crystalline regalia, the dress… her body.
Oh shit, that’s right — I’m hot! And the dress is hardly Victorian! It’s pretty fucking accentuating!
She shifted a bit uncomfortably under the scrutiny but tried not to let it show too much or rankle her. “I am the Goddess Samantha, young lord. The Goddess of Mirrors.”
And no, I don’t have a TikTok.
He was staring into her eyes again, but this time for real. He nodded slowly, almost to himself. “You’re… an inspiring beauty…” He seemed to remember himself suddenly, and his eyes shifted away. He then made a bow.
1 FE gained due to user belief/acknowledgment. Note: not yet a Follower.
As he bowed he said, “Lord Sebastion Falshaen… Your Majesty Samantha. Or Lord Bast as most are told to shorten.” His eyes shifted around the study before returning to the mirror.
“You aren’t a… Kenstrom?”
“I am of House Kenstrom like my uncle, but we are Falshaens. The House is ancient, that line technically extinct, but the name is retained for order and honor. My uncle is still Duke Kenstrom. It’s the Western way.”
“I see.”
“It’s dangerous, you know. This. Me talking to you. There are not supposed to be such entities as you in these lands, even to scry. To influence.”
“I know that much. Should I leave? You can just forget about me if you want, and we can pretend this never happened.”
“No. No, I can’t.” There was a pause after that, then he cleared his throat and shrugged. “If my curiosity is my undoing, then I’d be undone precisely as I prefer. May I ask why you’ve taken an interest here, Your Majesty? Goddess of… Mirrors, you say?”
“Information, curiosity, and well, I need allies and followers. So that I can grow. I can see and speak through any mirror, currently. Mirrors. That’s my thing.”
“You might want to steer clear of Dominion territory to begin, then.”
“Unfortunately, the bulk of mirrors are here. And… It seems like I’m drawn to those who need me the most, instinctually. And they’re drawn to me.”
Lord Bast’s eyebrows rose slightly, then he nodded firmly. “Well, you’ve convinced me. I accept.”
“What?”
“I will be your humble follower, Your Majesty Samantha.”
“But you’re not humble at all!”
“You wound me. Your unhumble follower, then.”
She ‘tsked’. Giving him a level look, she said, “Why are you so quick to accept? Are you sure you’re not just… infatuated?”
He laughed and gestured with his hands out wide, his eyes twinkling. “So what if I am, oh goddess! I seek inspiration! I’m an inventor, an artist, an alchemist, an aspiring independent wizard stuck amongst crude brutes and simpering socialites! I need a muse, and I despise most everyone I’m forced to entertain.
“The only intellectual equals to myself are regimented, stuffy codgers preaching their One Way and One Way only, hardly suitable to a man of my free-spirited nature. And besides… I’ve already made a vow to you. I might as well see a return on it.”
God, what did I get myself into with this one? Sighing, brushing her fingers through her hair for some reason, she said, “Fine then, Lord Bast. Ask and ye shall receive.”
Reaching out to his soul like she did Estara, Sammy placed her hand up flat to the portal.
Bast approached the mirror, face sobering in solemn understanding, though with a little measure of victorious smugness underneath. His hand reached out-
Sammy jerked her hand away, eyes widening as she remembered something. “Wait-wait-wait-wait!”
“What’s the issue?”
The stupid religious experience! I didn’t change it yet! Argh, real professional, Sammy. Just what I wanna see, this guy high as a kite saying whatever’s on his mind. Big nope on that, thank you!
“Uh-uh, technical diff- I mean, just a moment. I must prepare our spirits for this monumental act.” Nice save.
She closed her eyes and drew up the prior conversion form, updating the religious experience to ‘Minor good/peaceful vibes (20% of maximum). Moderate creative inspiration.’ She then submitted it.
Ritual of Conversion Form successfully revised.
She opened her eyes to the young lord squinting at her suspiciously. With a big, sweet smile, Sammy declared, “All is ready, supplicant.”
Once more, Sammy touched her hand to the portal, and Lord Bast did as well, to where it was much like their hands were touching. He seemed to relish this experience, not immediately saying anything, eyes exultant.
“Um, Bast. The words…?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, what were they? Yes. I swear my allegiance and pledge my faithful service to the Goddess Samantha, may she reign forever!”
The surge came again, as well as the feel of the connection anchoring.
Follower conversion successful. 1 FE gained. 1 Daily FE gained (total: 2).
Bast looked up at her in wonderment, as tension seemed to drain out of him, and some new, smoother alertness lit up in his eyes. He exhaled and his mouth hung open. Slowly he pulled his hand away and stared at the palm.
“Lord Bast, are you… alright?”
“I’m more than alright. I’m… magnificent!” He clapped his hands together and laughed — a pleasant, rich sound.
“Well, that’s good. This is the power of-”
“My painting brushes! Where are they?! I must paint immediately — it stirs in my heart like a fire!” He began sifting through piles, sending books cascading onto the floor. He barely caught some wooden puzzle thing before it crashed and broke. “Th-th-the imagery, i-it’s so clear!”
“Uh, Bast?”
“Not now, paint — I must paint!” He cackled loudly in glee, the sound echoing in the study, then he hurried off around a shelf, out of view, more calls and muttering about brushes and painting following in his wake.
“Lord Bast…? Are…? Welp. Um. Later, I guess…” Sammy shrugged and disconnected from the portal.
Artists. That guy is definitely going to be an old, crazy, cranky wizard one day, too. Shaking his fist from a tower top shouting, ‘Get off my lawn, ya stupid kids!’
She looked up into the sky of stars, locating Bast’s bright, shining representation immediately. It was next to Estara’s, though it had nothing to do with their proximity. She checked his status.
____________________________________________________________
Burst of Inspiration
+1 Effective Levels for any singular, creatively-driven task. Also improves motivation. Not stackable. Special Duration: 1 hour or until the task is completed/attempted, whichever comes first.
Positive Waves
Improves mood and aids relaxation or focus. Clears any minor-grade stress/mental-based debilitations.
____________________________________________________________
“Hmm. Bard-like. Probably suits him.”
For some reason, her eyes shifted to her hand. She thought then of when it was pressed up against Bast’s by some fashion, despite it still being two worlds apart.
An immature, gremlin-like part of herself in the back of her head teased, ‘Hehehe, you touched a boy.’
Gah, shut up! It’s not like that. He’s just a fr-... supplicant. Anyway, who cares if guys are into some smoking hot psychic goddess body I’m piloting around? Of course they would be! It’s not even really…
But the thought died uncompleted. She had to get used to it, new and different though it was.
Plenty of people look in the mirror and fail to see what they want. I can get used to this and accept it. It could’ve been a lot worse. What if I had just watched The Little Mermaid and a big floppy fin instead of legs popped in my head? I’d be swimming around getting chased by fucking sharks right now. Or horny dolphins. Okay, why-
She pulled up a random large, high-quality mirror from her assortment, but instead of looking through it, she flipped it around. Sure enough, it was like a replica of that mirror in the real world and showing her reflection.
Sammy brought it up close and just looked at herself. Looked into ice-blue irises somehow still her own. Made faces, fiddled with her hair, adjusted the dress and jewelry needlessly. She realized the crown had not been on her head for some time. She looked over at it, where she’d thrown it down to the floor quite a while back — or so it seemed.
It was effortless to summon it to her hand. She placed it back on her head and adjusted it until satisfied. Then she stared into those alien, gradually becoming more-familiar eyes looking back at her for a long spell.
Finally, she cracked a small, slightly wan grin. “Yep. Smokin’ hot, girl.”
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