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It sucks without him. Hard.
Get your minds out of the gutter, I didn't mean like that.
It's just boring as hell.
Seriously, nothing at all remarkable happens. I do the typical menial labor for a bunch of minor officials. I fight off some enemies. I win a war or two.
Big deal. It's really all in a day's work. The thrill of these exploits wear off after a couple of centuries.
Okay, so the single combat with the afrit wasn't half bad. I did a nice bit of taunting and a lovely evade at the last minute—and that Detonation was very skillfully placed, if I do say so myself.
But that didn't change the fact that everything bored me. Everything. And that I missed him more intensely than I would have thought myself capable of.
Little things would remind me of him. At the precise moment I plunged the afrit into the sea, I noticed that the water was sparkling on the water just like the intuition in his eyes when he got an idea.
I killed the afrit quickly, because I had to get away from that water. I spent the rest of the day sulking in a cabin, avoiding the fact that I couldn't bear to look at the ocean because it looked too much like him.
I sound ridiculously sappy. This really isn't healthy. At least I'm myself enough to recognize that I'm being ridiculous.
Because I am. This isn't right. I shouldn't feel so… consumed.
I shift from form to form. In the end, I settle on his face. It's comforting somehow to be him. I run my hand over my own arm casually and look down. It isn't quite right. I'm missing some details.
I visualize him, and it's a perfect image. I recognize that much. I can see the hair on his neck, the shape of his eyebrows, the color of his fingernails, the light in his eyes, the sound of his voice.
I take on every shape of it. I make my essence change, carefully shifting it into the familiar form he has.
I smile as I change. It's perfect. I feel safe in this form, just as I do in his company. It settles my uneasiness, my discomfort.
I can see, now, that why I was so unhappy is because I'm worried. I don't trust lesser djinn like Affa and Penrenetut with his safety. They are decent fellows, but I'm a higher level, and they, like me, aren't under charges.
But I'm more bound to protect him than any command could make me.
I want to go home.
I should speak to him about it.
Finally, I hear his call, and of course I answer it. A bubble presents in the air.
His familiar face appears, and I quickly shift into a different form—anything but his face.
"Greetings, Rekhyt. I hear congratulations are in order. Word of your successes has reached the city."
I grin and bow my head, a respectful gesture I know he'd prefer to do without. "Is your cousin chuffed?"
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