Messages keeps gettin' clearer

Radio's on and I'm movin' 'round my place

I check my look in the mirror

Wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face

Dancing in the Dark - Bruce Springsteen

I am awake.

I don't know what time it is. How much time has passed. Surveying the room, I note that it is dark, but this could be because the shutters are closed, or because it is night. Forest bounces on the windowsill, noticing that I am awake.

"Poi!"

He bounds over, finally landing on my chest and knocking the wind out of me. After I recover, I give Forest a hug and pat him on the head. He gives a content chirp, but then looks at me with a little concern.

Before I can answer, I notice a male voice outside my door.

"I don't care. We've been waiting for two days now. If he isn't awake by tomorrow morning, I'm leaving. My meeting has been delayed enough."

There is a sigh. I try to get up, stretch my legs, but they clearly aren't ready yet. I frown in irritation.

I need to get a move on!

There is a more feminine voice, which through my somewhat unfocused state I recognize as Leanna.

"I suppose that you've been more patient than I can expect. At any rate, we should check on Alasdair."

There is a quiet, then two pairs of footsteps move towards my door. I try my legs again, somewhat pleased as they give more response. It isn't nearly good enough, though.

I hear a clicking sound, and the door creaks open. Leanna peeks inwards, silhouetted against the comparatively bright hallway.

"Alasdair? Are you awake?"

I give a halfhearted answer, my throat still quite dry.

"I think so."

She smiles, opening the door wider as she strides towards the window. Zack follows close behind as Leanna throws open the blinds. It is about dusk, with the streamers sent by the setting sun lazily cascading through the window. I wince, my eyes scrambling to adjust to the additional light.

"So I've been asleep for two days?"

Leanna nods.

"We had to get you a healer. Apparently, the shadow magic you took managed to really mess up your insides."

She shakes her head.

"It's really impressive that you were able to survive that much exposure, though. Is there anything you haven't had a chance to tell me yet? Is what you did something that is normal from… where you come from?"

Leanna speaks kindly, but there is an edge to her voice. I suspect that she isn't all that comfortable with the possibility that I might've been withholding important information. I nod.

"Two things. What I did when fighting the treasurer, I have no idea. The other I tried to tell you about back when we were sparring. There was a voice in my head, pointing out what you were doing and what I should do. I think that it is the sword itself."

Leanna blinks.

"You think?"

"This isn't something normal for me, so I don't know. I could try to ask it, if you like."

She nods, and I call out with my mind.

Are you awake?

There is an un-sound, much like something stirring. I feel as if the thing is stretching, unfurling around the boundaries of my mind.

I suppose I am now. Do you need something?

Are you my sword?

There is a pause.

...yes. I assumed that you would be able to puzzle out that particular conundrum soon after our exchange two days ago, but perhaps not.

"Am I supposed to believe that he's talking to a sword?" Zack cuts in.

Leanna gives him a look, but I nod understanding.

"Well, you are, but your doubts are reasonable. I'll have to see if there is anything I can do about that."

Can you talk to other people?

It is based on proximity, so yes.

The next time I 'hear' it, it feels louder. Both Leanna and Zack start when it speaks.

Good… evening, isn't it? I am the mind that is stored in Alasdair's weapon, and have been aiding his capabilities as a swordsman.

I can almost feel the flourishing bow emanating through my thoughts. Leanna recovers quickly.

"What are you?"

There is a slight chuckle.

First of all, there is no need to speak aloud. We will hear each other's thoughts should they be relevant. As for what I am, I am afraid that I have already told you everything that I know. Whilst I have memories from as far back as two weeks ago, I have not been aware until about an hour before Alasdair first picked me up. I've been doing what I can with what I know about swordplay just by being a sword, and I have worked with a little bit of magic, but I am certainly not the wisest intelligence in this room.

Did you just say 'whilst'? I ask. I hear Leanna snort in the real world.

I did. Do you have a problem with that?

No, no. Nothing is wrong with that at all.

You know, Leanna muses, I think I've heard about this sort of thing before. I'll have to do some research when we reach Illumia.

Illumia… a thought comes to mind, restoring my memories prior to falling unconscious to their proper context. I try again to get out of bed, this time succeeding.

"Oh! You should probably rest some more. We won't be moving 'till tomorrow."

Leanna smiles warmly.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I can bring you up some food. Get some rest."

"No… we can't go to Illumia. Not while he hasn't been caught yet."

Zack blinks.

"What?"

"The treasurer. That Marshals-cursed worm is still around. We need to find him, and make him answer for what he's done. Every injustice should be repaid against him."

I look over at Leanna.

"Do you have any ideas on where that slavering creature would've went?"

She shakes her head.

"That's irritating. Well, we'd better get going. There will be no rest for me until I find a trail."

That is… odd. What-

I'm not exactly certain why my sword thought that this was odd, but I am sure of the reason for the communications stopping.

"He's stopped talking to me. That otherthing is still here. He's cut me off. We need to search the town!"

Leanna suddenly steps forward and places a metal palm upon my forehead. The crystal set within it glows, and I hear them.

So, what do I need to do? she asks.

There will be two Alasdairs in there. Only one will wear his core motives obviously, the other will not. Find the one that is screaming out for the murder of the treasurer.

Then what?

Wipe that one from his mind. It appears to be his shadow.

Part of me feels as though a cool breeze is flowing through my mind, another feels searing agony, like I'm being torn apart at the seams. That part rises to the surface, separating from the connection we had.

No! I hear in my mind. We need to fight him! To end him and all he stands for!

He tries to stop Leanna, but a combination of wind magic and myself hold him back. It's so odd, having something else trying to control your limbs. And it is 'something else' now. We stand apart.

We will. I think. But it shouldn't be our overriding obsession. There are other things I should be doing.

Then… what happens to me? You two are killing me.

You'll become what you were before. A part. Your desires will resume their normal precedence.

He screams, inarticulate emotion flooding through my neurons. Leanna seems to be taken aback, but after a lull, she presses on. With each successive pulse, layers of the other being are stripped away.

We must destroy! Kill! That is our purpose! You won't do that!

It lashes out, trying to fight the attackers, damage me, anything, but without the nuance, the intellect that it had before, its strikes lack teeth. Willful concepts have little power compared to a complete sapient, and with each wave I subvert more of the functionality which my brain dedicated to it.

There, I hear the voice of a blade speak, you are nearing the end. You can see Alasdair helping, there and there.

Are you sure I'm doing alright? His mind is damaged.

Sapients are highly adaptable, even the most rigid. He will heal.

How? This patch over here is completely dark.

The weapon is silent, unable or unwilling to respond to Leanna's query. I cannot see what they're talking about, and feel fine, but their comments fill me with unease.

Finally, Leanna withdraws from the procedure. There are no more competing voices in my head.

You are alright now, correct?

Well… no more than usual. I nod affirmative. My head aches, as though something has been ripped from it.

Say, what is the status of my mind?

… Significantly less than optimal. Multiple processing sections were occupied by the alternate, and had to be purged completely. Your memories and experiences were shared for the most part, so nothing is wrong there. A few days of rest should see your mind redevelop these areas.

What about that dark zone Leanna was talking about?

She wasn't experienced enough to see the activity in that section. I didn't want to reveal that that was how I interface with you.

You took a piece out of my brain so we could talk?

… in a manner of speaking.

What manner?

Again, he is silent.

I'll ask again.

...Tell me. Who do you think I am?

A weird sword with lessons in cryptic storytelling?

I could feel the eye-roll in his next sentence.

Let's try again. Who do I sound like to you?

You sound a lot like me, but a little deeper.

And…?

You're trying to tell me something.

Your perceptiveness knows no bounds.

Ugh, are you going to be helpful or what?

Just let me have my fun. This is the first time I get to be on the outside of that stuff, and therefore appreciate it.

… the outside.

Quite so.

Let me ask you a question. Are you me?

No. But I was.

What in the capacity of humankind's light is that supposed to mean?

That I am a fragment of your psyche, imperfectly integrated into this sword and your mind at the same time.

But we can talk.

Yes. I work as best as I can, but the bandwidth offered by magic isn't enough to sustain a full immersion. When I am not needed, I remain mostly focused on being a part of you. But that can mean that I don't have the capacity to affect your sum total to the needed degree, so we get times like this, where I am fully aware and conversing with you. Speech is not ideal, but it means that we both work at peak efficacy. Partial immersion is also not ideal, but speaking can tax our mental functions. A balance which changes with the situation is best. While this clearly isn't perfect, it does provide me/us-

Agh- Stop.

Stop what?

You said me and us at the same time. Don't do that.

I can sense it blink.

… so I did. Mentalese is extremely fluid, and I am not used to translating it to spoken. Anyway, it seems that being trapped in this sword does provide -us- with an advantage. I have an innate sense of my new vessel and its surroundings, allowing me to present sound advice regarding swordplay.

Is that why I couldn't use any weapon-like object except yours?

… I think so. I haven't really settled into this 'body' yet, but I do know that it is doing a significant amount of stuff behind the scenes. I do know that when we entered the shop and I was placed in here, something accessed one of our mental frameworks. Once I figured out what I was doing, the first thing I did was check what it did. Whatever it was, it wanted to know what we considered to be a weapon.

I think we'd better shelve this conversation for later. Thank you for helping me return.

Think nothing of it. Only together are we Alasdair.

Come to think of it, what do we call each other?

I don't really think that we should.

Fair enough. I suppose we don't need to identify ourselves to each other.

I looks over at a rather stunned Leanna and Zack.

… I wasn't using my inside voice, was I?

Slowly, Zack shakes his head.

"So, you heard all of that?"

Leanna nods.

"It was… interesting?"

"So, now it's confirmed that I have a magic sword. What next? Dinner?"

I look outside again.

"Yeah, I'm thinking that it is probably dinner. I'm starving after what I can only assume was two days without food."

"That's right." Leanna exclaims. "Do you need some help getting down the stairs?"

"I'll be alright. Getting that evil twin out of my head'll certainly put some spring in my step."

At that, I skip over to the door, then think better of any further acrobatics. I hear Zack muttering something about space, but think nothing of it. As we head down the steps, the creaking alerts other patrons of the tavern, and a handful of them provide to us cheerful waves. Zack and I scout out a good table while Leanna goes up and orders.

I decide to speak up.

"I hope I haven't been too much trouble. You two have been paying for two extra days of food and lodging at this place, and you specifically have a time window I probably made you miss."

Zack looks over at me.

"I wouldn't worry about it."

"Why ever not?"

"Patience pays back in extra security, so I waited. And we haven't been paying anything."

"What, does Leanna have a GovServ cheque she's working through? Makes sense, but she's still paying."

He nods over to Leanna as she hands me a bowl. She rolls her eyes and scowls slightly.

"Feeling lazy, Zack?"

"What? You're the one set on being his personal exposition fountain."

I give Zack a sideways look at his use of the word 'exposition', then glance between the two of them.

"Look, if this is about to be a thing, I am phenomenally attracted to being left in the dark regarding this."

Leanna smirks.

"Oh, it is about to be a thing."

"Please no."

Her slight smile continues, but her tone is mirthless, as though she wants to avoid mocking the information she is presenting.

"When we checked in the first day, the innkeeper refused to let us pay for the rooms or food. He said it was a direct order from the mayor, and that the income from the recent taxes would be paying for our stay here."

I raise an eyebrow, surprised.

"That, and that he would've let us stay for free anyway, after what we did."

"Well then. I suppose I wasn't too much of a problem after all. How nice of the mayor."

There is silence for a little while, but it doesn't feel uncomfortable or strange, and Zack practically inhales his food as soon as the lapse in conversation gives him the slightest excuse. Leanna and I share a look as we raise our spoons.

"Ah, stew again?"

She nods.

"It's hearty and filling. The perfect meal for a weary traveller or outpatient."

"Rabbit again?"

"Actually, someone came back from a hunting trip recently. So, we're having venison."

My eyes widen, and I look at the bowl. I recognize that word. The prepared meat of wild deer.

I might be the first human to taste this in decades.

With that in mind, I take a tentative bite, and wait as the taste flows across my tongue. It is tangy, and has a texture that I hadn't thought was possible outside of synthmeat. Additional herbs and the tubers from the rest of the soup add a delightful balance to-

Okay, food critic language off. It was really good, let's go with that.

"Wow." I say simply. "That was really good."

Leanna smiles.

"Most of these soups are quite good. But venison is my favourite."

"I can see why."

I wince as a jolt of residual shadowfire bursts through my neurons. Less explainable is the sort of… twitching cold that accompanies the growth of my mind into previously unoccupied regions. My shoulder still feels raw from when I hit the ground twice (on the same shoulder, marshals take it!), but other than all that, I feel fine.

Peachy.

Leanna glances at me, then gets up and walks back to the innkeeper. She returns with what looks something like an ice pack, offering it to me with a smile.

"This should help with the pain."

It wasn't all that bad, to be honest. I had been sleeping it off for a little while, after all. But without the adrenaline and… whatever that blue stuff was… drowning it out, I feel worse physically now than I had directly after the fight, and accept the pack without hesitation. I feel myself sink into the chair slightly as the pack gently informs my lingering aches, shadow-upgunned or otherwise, that they are to vacate the premises immediately.

"I didn't get the chance earlier, so thanks for helping me back there."

I easily muster what little will is required, and form a smile in return.

"All in a day's work."

With that attended to, I return to my meal. In between bites, an unanswered question tugs at me.

"So, what exactly makes shadow magic bad?"

Leanna is quick to respond. This is her field of expertise, after all.

"It has many more violent applications than any other elemental magic, and is extremely unstable and volatile."

I nod.

"As you found out, one of the most unsettling things shadow magic can do is change someone's mind."

She intoned that last with emphasis, like it was a euphemism or something.

"Many shadow practitioners gain an unhealthy appreciation for this ability in particular, though some are better at it than others. Given his lack of many normal options in combat, I think we were dealing with a specialist. They best work with what a person is already feeling, and convince them that way."

"Yeah. Apparently I have this blanketing desire to change the world. It didn't take the treasurer very long to find that and start shaping it."

Leanna nods.

"That would be an easy one. An old school of thought rested on the idea of humans having a darker side to their thoughts, but during the war we learned that most of Void's thralls were controlled using basic goals like that. To one of their-"

She shudders.

"-mindweavers, even the purest intentions can be pressed into service. But they prefer to work with ambiguous, selfish thoughts."

Suddenly, Zack cuts in.

"Everyone has thoughts like that. It's just a matter of keeping those thoughts in check."

Leanna nods.

"And for those who can resist those temptations even with shadow magic pushing them along, there are shadows. As both you and that guard experienced, shadows have more initiative, and aren't dependent on the mage responsible. For this reason, they aren't seen often. Letting loose selfish and destructive desires without a way to reign them in can do more harm than good for the shadow mage. But they do remain the one sure way to change someone's mind."

"How can you defend against it?"

Zack's expression somehow darkens, despite the fact that no physical change takes place.

"A willful person can avoid being consumed by dark desires, but a shadow? You only hear of mages defending against that kind of attack."

Leanna puts her chin in her hand.

"At least… until today."

She picks at her food. I suddenly feel very bad for taking the atmosphere down a few notches.

"Most people can't control the magic well, especially in its more often used tainted form, and it's very easy for it to backfire and cause more harm to the caster than the intended target."

I frown.

"Nathaniel seemed to be handling it well."

Leanna blinks.

"Who?"

"The treasurer. Some of my shadow's scrap memories talked about how it must obey Nathaniel Iowen."

"Yeah, he was…"

She looks to be thinking about something.

Again, you dazzle me with your intellect.

Did you seriously decohere so you could say that?

Why, yes.

I hate myself. Go away, marshals break you.

As things return to normalcy, I ask.

"Thinking of anything?"

Leanna looks suspicious.

"Yes. That man was surprisingly good at a kind of magic that has been outlawed longer than many people have been alive."

Zack pushes his now empty bowl in front of him.

"I think he's a part of VOID."

"So do I. I noticed the branding on his forearm."

Alright, more question time!

"What does empty space have to do this?"

Zack looks curiously at me.

"Are we just going to have to explain everything to this guy?"

Leanna shakes her head.

"Just… humour him. If Alasdair is confused, then it's likely he hasn't encountered it before."

"Hasn't heard of… whatever. VOID are practitioners of shadow magic. They first rose to power during the War of Three, before the Treaty of Esaria."

I nod.

"To boil it down, they wanted more power, and a lot of innocent people were killed in the process. They got so destructive that it took the combined might of all three kingdoms to put them down."

Leanna steps in.

"That was when the treaty was formed. Part of the agreement was to outlaw shadow magic."

Something clicks in my head.

"Are shadow mages somehow stronger on an average, individual level, or is shadow magic easier to learn?"

"The latter." explains Leanna. "Normally, shadow magic isn't too much different power-wise from the other fonts of magic, but it's simpler aspects are much more obviously destructive. It takes years for your average wind mage to be a threat on the battlefield, whereas a VOID operative can be given a tainted sphere and a few months of training and still be a credible threat. Illusions, energy blasts, mind domination, all that comes naturally to shadow practitioners."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Seems like a fairly obvious choice for combat applications. What's the catch?"

"Shadow magic is naturally very unstable, and this only gets worse for the kind that VOID normally uses. One of those conscripts is often just as likely to blow himself up as actually throw that shardblast at an enemy."

Zack nods, and I suddenly realize why they were both so grim when shadow magic was noted. I mean, I was somewhat aware of the stakes, but only because dozens of fantasy stories had ingrained in me the concept of shadow = bad. I didn't have the background to know about this sort of thing.

After Zack returns his attention to his food, I get Leanna's attention again.

"Void wouldn't happen to have-"

You need to pronounce it in all caps.

Why.

They're a villainous, counterstate group with religious undertones. Their names are always capitalized. Like NIQA, or ARC.

First off, no. Second off, I'm certain that there are extremist groups in Earth's history without capitalized middle letters.

Leanna looks strangely at me. I grin sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. I'm-"

I pat the scabbard on my hip.

"-just being dumb."

Hey!

You were. That's ridiculous, even if there was somehow a difference in tone or something, and there isn't.

"So, does Void happen to have any specific belief structure?"

Leanna ponders my question for a second.

"I don't think so," she says finally, "at least not one that guides their decision-making."

"Okay. I was just seeing some similarities to the group I fought during my one time in a real warzone."

"Really? You don't seem like the type who's done that. On the way here, the way you acted suggested that you hadn't really fought anyone before."

"The war wasn't really against someone, it was against something. The Word of the Prophet. Imagine fighting an army of insentiate machines, a never-ending tide of metal that wants nothing more than for you to be the happy servant of some ideology you despise. I was working my way through citizen service at the time, and so when that segment of the globe erupted in flames, I was part of the first wave. Fortunately, I was good enough to outsmart the heuristics that were in all of its combat units, and eventually won in the numbers game."

I look back over at Zack. He isn't looking at us, but his chewing is slower and there appears to be a frown upon his face. I decide to change topics.

"Say, what were you two doing while I was out?"

Leanna smiles.

"It turns out that the treasurer left a lot of fallout in his wake. Some tense mercs, a bunch of puppets we didn't meet on the day of, that kind of stuff. I helped with straightening things out, and Zack showed up some too. Other than that, mostly just daily tasks and checking up on you to make sure you hadn't rolled out of bed after it happened the first time."

I nod and smile. Then, noticing something odd, I blink.

"Fallout?"

As far as I know, that term was originally used exclusively when dealing with hostile radioisotopes created by nuclear weapons and accidents. It is used on Earth to refer to the general effects and consequences of something, but that is a culture which had dealt with the psychological effects of nuclear weapons for generations even before a war involving their widespread use occurred.

Leanna seemingly doesn't notice my rapidly short-circuting mental processes, and forges ahead.

"Yeah, like magical fallout. When not cleaned up, sufficient magical residue is dangerous to non-mages."

Oh. That makes sense. We have the same word, it is just two similar but distinct things. At least, it makes as much sense as English and Common being the same language for no reason.

I politely nod in thanks, only for a building chain of events to demand my immediate attention. Responding rapidly to this new threat, I smite a yawn as it tries to exit, but it's valiant sacrifice allows one of its brethren to slip past my defenses and into the exultant air.

"Is everyone done eating?" Leanna asks.

Zack and I both nod.

"Then I suggest we head to bed. We have an early start tomorrow, so let's prepare to make the most of it."

I raise my hand.

"I second that motion. I'm exhausted, despite just getting up."

"I know."

I wonder briefly if fighting back yawns makes them more violent.

Zack leads the way back upstairs, clutching one of the keys. We stop in front of two adjacent doors, much akin to how things occurred last time. I take a second to try and remember which one is mine, but Zack's placement quickly reminds me.

Leanna looks over at us and smiles as usual.

"Well, goodnight then."

I respond with all the cheer that my already 'tired' self can muster.

"Goodnight."

Zack nods. I am still totally sold on him being a brooding edgelord.

Leanna turns the key and enters her room, the door closing gently behind her and locking seemingly without her input. I guess that's one way to stay practiced.

Zack also turns his key and lets himself into the second room. However, as I'm about to follow him in, the door slams shut!

Very funny, Zack, I turn the handle, but it's locked.

What in the… last I checked this was my room to, you silent breathtaker!

"Zack. Let me in."

He ignores me, so I pound on the door, beating an incessant staccato with my fist.

"Come on! In the marshals' names, let me in!"

He still doesn't answer, but a couple of people poke their heads out of their rooms and glare at me. I briefly mouth apologies at them.

Obviously, another approach is needed if noise isn't going to work.

Perhaps… I don't really know about me, but I am fairly certain that Zack respects Leanna to a degree. I could involve her, but do I want to disturb her…

I shake my head. Would be best if I tried to resolve the situation myself first.

Gently, quietly, I resume my assault.

"Zack, while you think this is amusing, in my opinion it is not. Unless you can suggest somewhere else I could sleep, I am forced to come to you. Open the door, please."

...no answer. I can feel the anger begin to rise within me again, so I stop, wary of drawing the ire of others.

Without going loud, I can't really do anything. Perhaps I could elicit a response if I did this for an extended period of time, but that isn't a real option either. I walk up to Leanna's door, and knocked.

"Leanna?"

After a moment, she opens the door a crack. Then, all the way when she recognizes me.

Her brows are creased with worry.

"Is something wrong?"

There is no possible way that she can predict how stupid my predicament is.

"For reasons unknown to me, Zack has stranded me outside the room I have recuperated in for the past two days. After repeated attempts at knocking produced no results, I thought to enlist your aid."

She blinks, and then a slow smirk slides across her features.

"You want me to get Zack to open the door?"

"Precisely."

Her smile becomes positively cheerful. I can see her successfully, if only barely, stifling laughter.

"I'm sure you can handle this one on your own."

Her door glides shut, and an irrational panic begins to take hold.

"This isn't nearly as funny as either of you seem to think! Is- is this like some kind of normal prank for you people? What… oh by the Marshals."

I take a step to the side, and my head slams into the wall several times.

Leanna wasn't refusing to help. She just pointed out that there was a solution to the problem at hand that I hadn't tried yet, and which was probably better than her. Something which will alert to Zack that the door needs to be opened without annoying anyone else.

By humankind's light, I've been doing all this panicking while wearing a telepathic sword.

I need your help.

There is a short delay, and I feel a slight change as a something disconnects from my psyche.

You're wondering if I can send a message to Zack.

Yes.

Have you considered simply using my body to relay our thoughts without decohering?

...what?

I am not a separate entity; the thought-matrix to be found within this weapon is part of your mind. There is a reason that Zack and Leanna were able to hear both of us when we were talking that one time, and not just me.

Ooooo-kay.

There is silence, and I take that as my cue. I reach out with my thoughts, locking onto someone in particular.

Zack, open the door.

I feel nothing. No response. This is probably as much because I'm not used to this as anything else, so I try again.

Zack. Open. The. Door. I intend to sleep tonight.

I feel the glimmer of something on the other end. It seems like… frustration. Indignation? Mirth? I can barely tell, but it is certainly un-sad. With no response forthcoming, I push forward, gathering myself for a mental shout.

*inhales* ZAC-

Suddenly, the door swings open. I walk in.

The first thing I notice was something I already knew was a thing, but confirmation brought it back to the forefront of my mind.

There were two twin beds. In our room, there were two twin beds.

As I shut the door, Zack returns to one, fixing his stony gaze upon me. I return fire with an indignant stare.

"What in the marshals' names was that? Why didn't you let me in?"

Zack's answer is as concise as it is nonsensical.

"No space."

Unable to contain my frustration, I sputter and gesticulate wildly in the direction of the unoccupied bed. Wordlessly, Zack stands up and walks over to the other bed, pulling up the bedsheets. Tucked inside the bed are both of his dischargers.

What? What? WHAT!

"Are you kidding me?"

I reach to remove the weapons, but Zack looks menacingly at me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Removing your inanimate objects from the bed I occupied for the past two days."

"But then where will they sleep?"

I just look at him. We both stare each other down from across the bed. Finally, I throw a message at him.

Unless your dischargers are sapient, there is no discussion to be had here. Currently, my sword is more worthy of its own bed than your guns.

After a second, he sighs and collects his dischargers, and I am left uncertain of whether this was some elaborate attempt at humour, or he legitimately thought that this was okay.

With that insanity out of the way, I deal with everything necessary. I elect not to swap over to my Earth garb with Zack around however. Even with that comfort setback, I fall asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow. I guess that mage really did do a number on me.

A/N: Sorry about the delay on getting this chapter out. I just got back into work, and am really tired: there's only so much of Prof's Magic Dopamine Sauce (TM) to go around. I'm currently reworking a chapter, so we'll have to see if I can keep this 'once a week' thing going for much longer. I expect to be able to reach the festival before my capabilities give out, but we may get further if the weekend brings new vigor.

Also, as you may have guessed: I like metaphors about yawns.