For Esme, going to town with Sigurd was always exhilarating.

It's so marvelous, Esme thought as she walked down the street, gazing around curiously at everything. It was just a small village, nothing like that huge city they had first arrived in. But that was good, she could examine things more easily without people stopping and asking if she was alright. Of course she was alright, she was just looking at something, what was wrong with that?

The grocery store, like all of the town, was full of marvelous sights for her. The first thing that always caught Esme's attention were the tube lights in the ceiling. They were powered by electricity, she knew that now, but how exactly did they work? Esme had broken a lightbulb and easily figured out the filaments but when she'd broken a tube, they were nothing but an empty tube. Did they work via a gas or was it the tube itself? How did they –

Princess, Sigurd's mental voice was full of mirth and Esme blushed, realizing she'd been staring at the tubes again. Oh, it was no wonder people thought she was strange! She quickly hurried to join Sigurd, who was looking back with a tiny smile on his face. "Did you want to get the produce, princess?"

"Oh, yes, certainly!" Esme took half the list with a smile before going to fetch a second basket. It would be faster this way and Sigurd was so efficient at shopping. Esme might have preferred to linger and read all the ingredient lists and try to figure out what they meant and how they worked, but Sigurd wanted to be in and out. It's probably better that way. People think I'm strange enough already, Esme thought, a touch sadly. It couldn't be helped, she was strange even for a Magus, but it was still rather sad.

Esme quickly picked out the produce, calculating the prices and approximate weights as she did. Hmm, it was not that much, that was good. They should try to make the money stretch as much as possible since they couldn't get jobs without ID. Unless they used magic to make people think they had identification but was that a good idea? And what kind of job could she do?

If only I could sell my Numbers. Esme shook her head at the thought. Her skill was worth a fortune but only to other magi. Carrying the basket she went to look for Sigurd and found him in the bakery, looking over the bread with a small frown.

"Ah, Esme. They seem to have no fresh bread today, only the factory sort. Perhaps we should go down to the bakery as well," Sigurd said and Esme nodded.

"That sounds good, we need the crusty bread for the stew. Although, we could get a bag of the white as well for crispy cheese sandwiches." Different breads served different purposes. Esme liked the factory made white bread for a proper grilled cheese sandwich. But for scooping up a stew, the lovely sourdough bread with the crust was perfect.

"Hmm, excellent point, and they do keep well." Sigurd mused before snagging a bag and adding it to his basket. "You have everything, princess?"

"Yes, it should be about – " Esme named the figure she'd come to in her mind. It wouldn't be perfect, of course, since she hadn't weighed everything but it would be close. Sigurd chuckled warmly and she blinked.

"Ah, it's beautiful that you can do that in your head. I would need a pen and paper for that," Sigurd said and Esme thought he was exaggerating. He could do math in his head when he tried, although not as complicated as she could, that was true.

They went to pay for the groceries and as they did, Esme was acutely conscious of the people around her. Everyone was looking at them and she sidled up to Sigurd, wishing they could just go unnoticed. But even when she was suppressing her… aura?... everyone noticed them no matter what.

Calm down princess, you're only making it worse, Sigurd murmured in her mind as he made polite chit-chat with the cashier as he paid. Esme swallowed, knowing it was true. But it was so hard… she slipped her hand into Sigurd's and he gave her a comforting squeeze.

Then they took their purchases and left, to Esme's relief. The bakery was only a short walk away but Esme's attention was distracted by the building beside it. The large bay door had been closed the few times they'd come before but today it was open and inside there was a half-dismantled vehicle. Esme was captivated by the sight. Did she dare…?

"Sigurd, can I…?" Esme asked and he glanced over with a small frown. Remember to call me Sam, princess. Oh, she had forgotten! Esme felt a heat in her cheeks at that stupid mistake. Then he smiled at her. "If they'll let you, go ahead. But look, don't touch." Ah, right.

"Thank you!" Esme said with a smile before carefully scooting through the open door, glancing around. No one here… she began to peer at the half-dismantled vehicle, trying to understand how it worked. Esme thought she'd already figured out the basic concept – moving part generating force – but how was it powered? What were all the pieces called and how did they work? There were so many pieces! Esme quickly became engrossed in the puzzle although she was careful not to touch.

"Um, miss? What are you doing?" Esme squeaked and jumped back, turning in surprise. A large, burly man with a thick beard was there, gazing at her with a quizzical expression through heavy glasses. In one hand he had a mug of coffee.

"I was just looking," Esme said quickly, tempted to run out and back to the safety of her Servant. But her sense of curiosity kept her because… maybe this man could explain things to her? "…How does it work?" Esme asked tentatively, edging back towards the machine. He blinked at her in a bemused fashion.

"You want to know how a car works?" Yes, absolutely! "Well, little missy, it's an internal combustion engine," he said before taking a swig of his coffee, then setting it aside on a table. Then he went to the machine. "See, this part here is the engine…" Esme watched carefully as he cheerfully explained how the machine worked, noting words and functions. "This is the battery." Battery? Esme knew that word, magi used it to refer to various methods of holding mana, from gemstones to living familiars. But that meant…?

"That battery holds electricity?" Esme guessed. Everything in the modern world seemed to run on electricity and Esme understood that it was like lightning, but harnessed and tamed. The man nodded. "How? How does it hold it?" Esme understood myriad ways to store mana. Some were more practical than others and some had different applications. She also understood, from painful experience, their limitations. The man looked a touch puzzled.

"Well, I don't rightly know but I don't think it holds it exactly," he said, reaching up to scratch his hair. Esme stayed patient, waiting for him to find his thoughts. "It has stuff inside that sloshes together and makes electricity. Acid and base? I don't know, I just know you have to be careful how you dispose of batteries and when they're old they can leak."

"I see," Esme said slowly, her thoughts going to all the lights in town. Surely they couldn't be powered by batteries? "Sir… how are the lights in town powered? All the machines plugged into the walls?" To Esme, batteries would not make sense. Unless physical ones were not limited like magical ones? But that seemed unlikely.

"Ah, most of the town is run on hydro-electric," he said as he reached for a tool. Esme was still watching carefully, even as she listened. "There's a dam down the river a ways, y'see." Esme knew what a dam was but how did it make electricity?

"How does it work?" Esme asked, knowing she was becoming a bit of a pest. But oh, she so wanted to know! The man did his best, telling her about turbines and Esme was able to imagine it in her mind. The water flowed out of the dam and moved the turbines, and the movement generated electricity. So physical movement could be translated to electricity… how did that work? Were the batteries involved? And could she translate this to magic? If the river was like a leyline, was it possible to dam a leyline? Esme was entranced by the thought. She'd never gone to the Clock Tower, never seen the marvels they had there, but she knew there was a great ley line nexus beneath it. Was that perhaps artificial? And what about magical engines? But what would she use for fuel –

"Esme?" Esme came out of her thoughts with a start to see Sigurd looking at her with the tiniest smile on his lips. He was carrying the groceries and his Numbers bubbled with amusement as Esme blushed. How long has she been standing there? Oh, how long had she been talking?!

"Oh, I'm sorry, I kept you waiting." She must have, had Sigurd been here and just watching her? Buying the bread would have taken very little time… then the mechanic spoke cheerfully.

"You have a very curious girl here. Is she your daughter?" Esme was speechless at the question. Did she look that young? …Did Sigurd look that old? From the way Sigurd's eyes widened, he was caught off guard as well.

"Ah, no. She is my woman," Sigurd said and the man frowned, glancing between them. Esme sensed a reserve coming into his posture, almost disapproval. "Come Esme, we should be going."

"Right!" Esme followed Sigurd out, her mind going back to the problem of magic. Oh, it was so frustrating sometimes! A real magi, trained at the Clock Tower, would probably know the answers to questions she had to work out. A magical engine though… Well, mage circuits could be considered that. You ate food to maintain the body and that vitality powered the mage circuits. Was there a way to make an artificial one though? Or even a mana core, like Sigurd had?

Her mind buzzing with the possibilities, Esme barely paid attention to the town. She came out of her reverie, though, when they were far enough away for Sigurd to summon Grani. Esme gently petted the stallion's soft nose with a smile before reaching into her bag and pulling out a carrot. The horse chomped down with gusto.

"Did you buy those just for him? He hardly needs it, princess," Sigurd said but he gently patted Grani's shoulder. Esme smiled at her prince, still feeding the horse.

"No, but we should show our appreciation." Grani was so incredibly useful. Without him, they would have had a terribly long walk in and out of town. And sometimes, when they were sure not to be unobserved, Sigurd used his great speed.

Now was not one of those times. They trotted down the road, cars occasionally passing and Esme gradually began to feel a bit morose. I just don't know enough. There was probably a way to manipulate ley lines to form artificial nexuses, but she simply didn't know how. Her parents hadn't trained her properly and at her families' manor, then the tower, Esme had never been able to experiment. It's so frustrating. Knowing that the answers to her questions already existed, yet were completely out of reach.

They reached the ruined farmhouse and Esme wasn't paying attention to Sigurd at all, still caught up in her thoughts as she slid down from the horse. That changed abruptly as her Servant caught her in his arms.

"Esme, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings," Sigurd murmured as he held her close and Esme blinked. Her feelings…? "I would marry you if I could, my beloved princess."

"Sigurd," Esme murmured, returning his hug. He felt so solid and warm, his body so close and she could see the sadness, the pain in his Numbers. "It's fine if you don't, I don't need that. I just need you." She poured all her feelings for him, the warmth and love held in her heart, into their connection. Sigurd's arms tightened around her, just a bit.

"Oh Esme…" Sigurd lifted one hand to her cheek before drawing her into a kiss. The passion in it took Esme's breath away, making her libido stir. When the kiss ended, though, Sigurd gave her a quizzical look. "I think I've misunderstood. What is troubling you?" Oh, Sigurd had thought she was bothered by what he'd said to that man?

"The only thing that bothered me about that was when he asked if I was your daughter. I don't look that young, do I?" Esme asked and Sigurd chuckled softly, a warm sound. "What's really bothering me, though, is how ignorant I am." That really was incredibly vexing. "Sigurd, is there a way to move the ley lines? Create magical 'dams' to enhance the power of a nexus?" Esme thought it was logical that such things would exist. Sigurd reached up to adjust his glasses.

"Ah, yes, that is possible." Did he know how?! Although Esme knew that whatever magecraft Sigurd used for that would be utterly unlike the modern era. "I've been doing it myself." He had?! "Would you like to see, princess?" Sigurd offered with a smile and Esme was electrified. "We could walk, it's rather pleasant."

"Oh yes!" A nice walk through the woods with a prize at the end of it? That would be marvelous! Sigurd smiled, just a bit and Esme saw the pleasure in his numbers.

It was a very nice walk through the woods. The sun was bright overhead but the trees offered shade as they followed the deer trail. Esme's gown caught a bit on the bushes and she handled that by gathering the skirt in one arm, holding it as she scampered up the trail. Her shoes were no problem at all, they were lovely new sneakers. The dresses were fine, Esme loved them in fact, but the sneakers were wonderfully practical. They arrived in a natural clearing, a beautiful little meadow with a large tree to one side. Esme's breath caught in her throat as she looked at it.

"Oh…!" Esme stared, entranced, at the Numbers of the tree. It reminded her of the Root and all the beautiful runes she could find there. "Sigurd, you've turned a tree into a Number," Esme murmured as she saw the way the mana flowed. The tree was like a stationary Number, acting as an anchor to a great ley line nexus that was forming beneath. Esme walked up to the tree in a dream and gently rested her hand on the bark as she stared at the runes. They had been worked into the living bark and they were so complicated! Esme began working them out, trying to understand. Every rune was heavily modified and interacted with the others to transform the tree into something much greater…

"You have such a unique mind, my darling Esme," Sigurd said and Esme blinked, pulled out of her thoughts to look at him in surprise. He smiled at her as he rested a hand on the bark. "I don't understand any of this. I only memorized it, the great ritual to make a sacred tree." Esme could see the edge of sadness, the longing for days long past, in his numbers. "My lovely Bryn made me learn it, in case I would need it, but neither of us understood how it worked. That was Odin's knowledge… but you can understand it, can't you?"

"I…" Esme looked at the Numbers of the tree again. "It will take me a while but yes, I can learn it." Not just the route pattern but the way it functioned. And she had already noticed something about it. "Sigurd… it's beautiful, but it feels… not quite done?" Esme could tell, from a combination of instinct and knowledge, that the Number wasn't quite complete.

"Ah, yes, there's a final ritual that needs to be completed at a particular time," Sigurd said easily and Esme blinked, feeling a bit… funny. Dizzy and lightheaded. The feeling passed and she shook her head. "I will get it done, princess. We should go back."

"Ah, yes, we should. I need to make lunch." Her stomach grumbled in agreement and as they walked down the path Esme pondered what she should make. As she did, though, she felt something odd in her connection with Sigurd. Regret? "Sigurd, is something wrong?" Esme turned back to look at him… he was lagging behind… and saw that edge of regret in him, reflected in his numbers. Sigurd shook his head.

"No, everything is fine princess. Just thoughts of the past," Sigurd lied. Esme knew it was a lie, seeing the subtle twisted to his numbers that indicated deception. Combined with that regret… was Sigurd unhappy that they couldn't get married? Esme felt warmed by the thought that he wanted to marry her. Just that was so incredible!

"Sigurd, I love you so much," Esme said impulsively and saw his eyes widen in surprise. "Let's hurry home so I can make you something wonderful!" She would show her love with the most amazing grilled cheese sandwich she could make! They'd gotten some fresh herbs too, she would put them on the cheese before she toasted it. Sigurd blinked before chuckling, a soft warm sound and Esme could see his mood lifting.

"That would be wonderful princess. I'm so glad to see you enjoying food." Oh, that was so like Sigurd to think of her and not himself! Although it was true, Esme was enjoying eating more now… the food tasted better when she made it herself. Humming happily, Esme skipped down the deer path, being careful not to trip or catch her dress on any of the twigs. Her legs weren't as lucky but Esme didn't care, it was just a few scratches. Oh, she felt so marvelous!

It never crossed her mind to wonder if Sigurd might be lying to her on a much greater level than a simple untruth.