Enday, 19th of Octavius, 11th year of the Stringless Era

  They entered the Adventurer’s Guild to no fanfare. During their way to the building, they had gotten the occasional stare by Stringless. Whatever it was about Celia that marked her so clearly for other Precursor constructs, it showed no signs of fading. At least the doll-like women were too confused by the sensation to actually follow it.

  Inside the building, there were no Stringless, and so they had no problems making their way inside. “Despite what I said this morning, we do actually have to buy you some gear later. You shouldn’t be left defenseless.”

  “I am armed at all times, Master.” A golden light extended from Celia’s forearm. The manifestation hardened immediately in a curved blade that was anchored between wrist and elbow. Relaxed, the blade’s tip almost touched her shoulder. Invisible, magical fibres pulled, shifting the angle of attachment.

  “A mantis blade,” Oras remarked.

  “Is it an expected characteristic?” Celia asked.

  Theria poked the side of the blade with a finger. It was the strongest reaction anyone in the room had to the weapon. “Expected? No. Surprising? Somewhat.”

  “Manifestation of mantis blades is a known trait of Stringless.”

  “...I see,” Celia responded sharply and dismissed the weapons.

  Oras did not have to ask what annoyed her. She obviously had a distaste for being called a Stringless, when she was quite dedicated to remain tangled in hers.

  “It would still be wise to buy you armour, the minimal amount we also have.”

  “If my Master wishes to protect his property, I will not object,” Celia stated.

  Oras left that uncommented. They had a job to pick. There would be more time to talk on the road, with fewer people to overhear the blonde’s comments.

  Theria poked Celia’s arm with her elbow. “We should wait over there,” the tomboy said and pointed at a nearby bench. “‘Cause Oras is gonna take forev’r to pick anythin’ out. He likes to scan every last job offer and only then pick.”

  Celia tilted her head. “...Is that not the appropriate measure?”

  “Yes, yes it is,” Oras answered immediately.

  Theria groaned and made a face as if she had just discovered some undesired ingredient in her soup. “Urgh, suit yourself then,” the redhead stepped away.

  When the doll woman turned to Oras, there was a tiny, victorious smirk on her pink lips. “I will gladly assist you in the task you have chosen for me, Master.”

  Oras opened his mouth, then sighed in resignation. ‘Wonder if it even occurs to her that sassing at me like that is a definitive sign of independence,’ he thought, then turned to the wall of postings.

  There were some requests dealing with small cults that had been driven out of Ylieli and into Kumsyurt. Those were unusual in their origin but not in their details, typically requiring a third party to come in as a mediator between the people that lived in the land and the people that wanted or needed somewhere else to go.

  The continued dissolving of Lefdores had absolutely no discernible impact. If there was any, it likely was in the area itself, and even there Oras doubted much would have changed.

  ‘The area was already so autonomous, they would have scarcely changed anything besides a few streams of funding,’ he contemplated, then glanced at Celia. He caught her glancing away from him and back at the wall. She had a hand on her chin, visibly pondering what was before her. ‘I doubt she will speak unless prompted… and I should prompt her. It’s good to have a non-thrillseeker to bounce ideas off of.’ “Anything that catches your eye?”

  Celia had been ready for the question, answering immediately. “Not outright. I am utilizing this listing of the world’s problems to further understand the state of it.” She pointed at a mission that detailed an extermination mission for a pack of overly aggressive wolves. “I understand that this level of challenge is currently appropriate for us?”

  “With three people, we probably outclass a pack of wolves, depending on its size, but by and large yes,” Oras responded, then thought back to the magnificent wolf that he had seen perish as a much younger man. ‘If it would be a wolf like that, I doubt it would be that easy.’ “Would you suggest we take that one?”

  “Denied.” Celia returned her golden eyes to him. “We have irregular circumstances.”

  “Indeed we do. We can expect the adventurers of Kumse to stream up to Kesemir over the coming days and weeks…”

  “...decreased supply of labour will lead to an increase in work that awaits attendance and a consequent increase in compensation,” Celia finished the thought.

  “In other words, we ought to pick a job that we can do quickly and easily, so we productively spent the time between now and the increase in rewards, agreed?” Oras asked.

  “Affirmative.”

  Oras met the gaze of the ancient String. They both smiled. For the first time, Oras felt a tug at his heartstrings when it came to her that was definitely more than appreciation for how gorgeous she was. The little flutter in his stomach was something he hadn’t felt like that… ever. He had read the description of it in stories and sometimes he had felt a similar sensation when looking at Theria. The difference there was that there had been no falling in love with his first wife - they had grown up together and their romantic entanglement had just… happened. Oras could pinpoint when they had gotten together, but not when he had started to love his tomboy.

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  If he and Celia were going to become anything, this set of otherwise mundane seconds where they stood in the cool walls of the Adventurer’s Guild was the moment he actually began loving her.

  Celia blushed lightly. Her golden eyes remained locked with his. Her full lips parted, first in a little sigh, then in a remark. “You won’t find the correct job posting in my eyes, Master.”

  “...Right,” he agreed reluctantly. His mind was still lingering on the feeling, but those seconds were gone and the flow of time demanded his attention. The gold-scaled Dragonblood scanned the quest board. “Help me search for something simple and nearby.”

  “I will follow all your orders, my Master,” Celia answered in a low voice.

  Her submissive tone caused the involuntary wandering of blood from the thinking place to a less productive segment of his body. Oras ignored it, breathed slowly, and let his foolish youth settle in the frame of his discipline. It wasn’t a simple task, but he managed.

  “”This one,”” they said simultaneously and both pointed at the same note.

  They glanced at each other, giggled lightly, cleared their throats, and returned to a straight face. “As you can see, I can be of great aid to you when you allow me to serve,” Celia commented with batted lashes.

  What was meant flirtatiously collapsed the reality of the situation into the butterflies in his stomach. ‘She’s still a slave to her programming,’ he reminded himself. ‘I can’t act on anything I feel until it is her choice. It would not be right. I can’t assume she’s doing anything because of me, she might just do it because she thinks that’s her obligation.’

  His inner turmoil must have showed on his face or perhaps the silence just spoke so loudly. “...does my lack of free will truly bother you so much?” she whispered.

  “You are a gorgeous bird, sitting in a cage another forged for you,” Oras responded, the poetic thoughts flowing freely from his lips as he studied her face. “You scale the bars, hop across the decorations provided, and sing in your beautiful tones - yet you refuse to open the wings that nature has granted you.”

  “Birds in captivity typically perish when simply placed in nature,” Celia stated with certainty. Only after the words had left her, did she realize the implications. “By which I do not mean I am a captive, I am-”

  “Free.” Theria interrupted suddenly. The redhead must have watched them intently, to step in at this exact moment. “You’re free, Celia. We’ll bend open the bars of that cage.”

  Celia inhaled sharply, a hand slowly raising to her head. “Why do you push me so?”

  “Because…” Oras stopped, tried to find a better formulation, then settled on repeating himself. Why find new words for something that was still true? “Because you are gorgeous, Celia. Because I think it is a waste to constrain yourself to what others decided for you. You have already proven yourself to be witty, funny, competent… perhaps a bit too sassy in some situations…?”

  The attempt at humour fell on deaf ears. Celia was staring at the floor now, her golden eyes trembling, the pupils dilated. He was pushing her, he was pushing her a lot further than he meant to, but that flutter in his stomach and his heart urged him to keep going.

  “That cage is keeping you in - and us out.” Oras gently took hold of Celia’s chin. He raised her gaze, until she focused on him again. Even then, her eyes seemed absent. “You are already making your own choices.”

  “I am not.” Celia sounded robotic, hollow. “I follow, you lead.”

  Oras shook his head. “You can try to lie to yourself, but you know better than that. Just in the last few minutes, you chose to join me in looking for the correct job. You chose which job would be the correct one. You came to the same conclusion as I independently.”

  “I simply... Interpreted your… preferences…” Celia pressed out.

  “Celia… you think it was my preference you wouldn’t talk for several days? Be real with yours-”

  “Stop…” Celia whispered, now clutching her head with both hands. “Just… stop… just… my mind computes only duty, my thoughts are limited to my service, my existence belongs to others, that… that is… that must be… true… that… is…”

  “A restriction placed on you,” Theria said.

  “No… it’s… You two are wrong! I am a… I am a… puppet on… Strings…” Her eyes darted around in a panic, finding nothing outside herself that caused it. “I can’t… a doll doesn’t dance on her own. She can’t take a single independent… step!”

  Celia raised a foot, then placed it back down just a few centimetres forwards.

  The previous panic accelerated. Her breathing rose to an alarming level, then suddenly collapsed. Her eyes rolled, her entire body suddenly losing all of its tension. Theria and Oras grabbed her by the shoulders and waist, preventing her from hitting the stone floor.

  Only now did Oras realize that they were surrounded on all sides by people. People that, so far, had been glancing in their direction with the polite disengagement of a well-behaved crowd. Now that there was an unconscious woman, that changed suddenly. They parted, allowing the two party members to haul Celia towards the closest seat - which the occupant had already vacated.

  “What’s going on? Fear curse? Demonic possession?” A healer asked. “What does she need?”

  “It’s complicated,” Oras answered, trying to get the limp body into a stable position on the bench. “Just… give her time.”

  The answer had the crowd mumbling. Some clearly had advice they wanted to give, others were just confused. Once the vitals of the doll-woman had been confirmed stable, interest slowly waned.

  “Ya may have acted against the recommendation of the priest,” Theria whispered to him.

  Oras sighed and nodded. Everyone around them was likely to remember their faces and start mumbling about it. As if Celia’s passive signal didn’t cause them to gain enough attention. This certainly had been a total failure when it came to keeping this quiet.

  “I just… I can’t stand to see a brilliant mind shackled like that, so attached to its own chains,” Oras muttered and carefully brushed some of Celia’s hairs back.

  The doll woman was not out for long. Though, when she came back to, she refused to talk or to even look at them. The crowd dissipated entirely by that point, not wanting to engage in personal issues now that health was assured.

  “Get the quest, I’ll sit with her,” Theria assured.

  Oras felt more than a bit helpless, but that was all he could do at that moment. A bit of space was everything he could give Celia after pushing her this much.

  The note was where they had left it. It was a simple mission about investigating the unusual behaviours of wild capybaras in recent weeks. Farmers were well accustomed to the large rodents and had their ways to appease or redirect their appetite. What they wanted dealt with was whatever caused such consistent migrations - likely some large predator deeper in the forest. A simple enough mission not far from Kumse.

  Once they had registered it, they left the Adventurer’s Guild.