“Ah, there we go!” I exclaimed happily. “Now if you touch it…”
By way of demonstration, I tapped on the illusion just like I would have to summon an item from my own pocket, not expecting anything to happen. It was not my inventory, after all. However to my surprise, the hologram reacted.
Lynnria was still a little breathless, so it took her a moment to realize what was going on. But when she felt something begin to shift, her eyes widened in panic. Before she could react, one of the cloth pouches lifted out from underneath her shirt… consequently deflating her left breast rather significantly. Face pale, she swiped the bulging pouch out of the air and spun her back to me.
I cleared my throat roughly. “I’m uh… sorry about that, Lynnria. I didn’t realize—“
She jerked her head around to stare daggers at me. “Not another word!”
I nodded. That was for the best.
“Nutty Faen,” she grumbled under her breath, then started digging around in the pouch. “Of course, they’d think to stash it there. I’ll get them for this if it’s the last thing I do!”
A few moments later, she seemed to have resettled herself, and turned, Key in hand. Of the pouch, there was no sign… save, of course, for the now even pair of mounds at her chest.
I opened my mouth, thinking to gently reassure her, but her eyes were still looking rather sharp. So, I decided to change course.
“Uh… anyway, it’s a pretty useful ability for when you don’t want to dig around in your pockets,” I said awkwardly.
She nodded with a curt and no-nonsense sort of stiffness. “Yes. Very handy, I’m sure.”
We stared at one another for another handful of seconds, neither knowing what to say. Quite a lot of things had happened all at once, and precisely none of them were the sort of thing a person might want to bring up in polite conversation. However, eventually the two of us came to the silent yet mutual conclusion that it was best to side-step the whole affair by never talking about it again.
With a wooden and upright posture, she tiptoed around me, being careful to stay on the correct tiles, and inserted the Key into its receptacle in the clock. There came a soft click, and then the glass door swung open. The Key dissolved into nothingness a moment later.
Lynnria tilted one of the hanging crystals forward to inspect it. “Now what?”
“No idea,” I replied, much more relaxed now that we were returning to a safe topic. “Do they come loose?”
At my question, she began to briefly fiddle with them and soon discovered that they would easily unscrew from their mountings. After that, it was but the work of a few moments to detach them.
“Okay…” she said thoughtfully. “Now what do we—“
Before she could finish, there came an extremely low and off-pitch dong from the clock and the three chains were sucked up into the upper chamber. Then the hands on the clock face began to spin crazily, each in opposite directions, until they came to a rest at exactly 12 o’clock.
Silence reigned for several seconds, the two of us holding perfectly still while we waited for the other shoe to drop.
“What… what just happened?” she whispered eventually.
“I uh…” I hesitated, then quickly glanced down. At the clock’s current indicated time, that should have meant that the trap had reconfigured itself such that the black tiles were the new safe ones. However, we were both standing on white. And nothing was happening. “I think we may have just disarmed the trap.”
“How can we know that?” she asked, still whispering for some reason. “It could have just reset. Maybe it’s not activating because we haven’t moved. Or we could have broken it. Maybe the white tiles are the safe ones now when the clock says black.”
“Uh… I guess we’ll have to experiment?” I hazarded. “We can’t just stand here forever.”
“Maybe you can’t.”
I just grunted. She was being a tad unreasonable, but I could understand where she was coming from. Getting repeatedly flung down a flight of stairs while a bunch of dart launchers attempt to perforate your ass did not make for a pleasant Tuesday afternoon.
“Alright, then,” I said before leaning over the railing to wrap a firm elbow between a pair of balusters. I very deliberately did not move my feet. “Make a choice.”
She grimaced at my admittedly silly looking position, then heaved a reluctant sigh before joining me. “You realize we’ll look like idiots if the trap was disarmed.”
“You get used to it.”
“What? Looking like an idiot?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“You get used to that, too.”
She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Donum, would you say you’re a particularly good Quester, or just someone hanging on by his fingernails?”
“I’ll let you know when I meet a ‘good’ Quester.”
Then I moved my foot.
Fortunately, it seemed I was correct. And it is a rare day indeed that I am happy to report I only felt like a fool.
Seleroan
Hey there, gentle reader.
Enjoying the content? Well, why not drop by my Patreon? It helps me keep this show running, and allows me to afford great things like editors, cover artists, and food!
Each chapter is now being personalized with some... passable chapter-inspired AI generated art. I try. But it gives things a bit of color. And you can read ahead!
Come on down! We'd love to see you.
“Ah, there we go!” I exclaimed happily. “Now if you touch it…”
By way of demonstration, I tapped on the illusion just like I would have to summon an item from my own pocket, not expecting anything to happen. It was not my inventory, after all. However to my surprise, the hologram reacted.
Lynnria was still a little breathless, so it took her a moment to realize what was going on. But when she felt something begin to shift, her eyes widened in panic. Before she could react, one of the cloth pouches lifted out from underneath her shirt… consequently deflating her left breast rather significantly. Face pale, she swiped the bulging pouch out of the air and spun her back to me.
I cleared my throat roughly. “I’m uh… sorry about that, Lynnria. I didn’t realize—“
She jerked her head around to stare daggers at me. “Not another word!”
I nodded. That was for the best.
“Nutty Faen,” she grumbled under her breath, then started digging around in the pouch. “Of course, they’d think to stash it there. I’ll get them for this if it’s the last thing I do!”
A few moments later, she seemed to have resettled herself, and turned, Key in hand. Of the pouch, there was no sign… save, of course, for the now even pair of mounds at her chest.
I opened my mouth, thinking to gently reassure her, but her eyes were still looking rather sharp. So, I decided to change course.
“Uh… anyway, it’s a pretty useful ability for when you don’t want to dig around in your pockets,” I said awkwardly.
She nodded with a curt and no-nonsense sort of stiffness. “Yes. Very handy, I’m sure.”
We stared at one another for another handful of seconds, neither knowing what to say. Quite a lot of things had happened all at once, and precisely none of them were the sort of thing a person might want to bring up in polite conversation. However, eventually the two of us came to the silent yet mutual conclusion that it was best to side-step the whole affair by never talking about it again.
With a wooden and upright posture, she tiptoed around me, being careful to stay on the correct tiles, and inserted the Key into its receptacle in the clock. There came a soft click, and then the glass door swung open. The Key dissolved into nothingness a moment later.
Lynnria tilted one of the hanging crystals forward to inspect it. “Now what?”
“No idea,” I replied, much more relaxed now that we were returning to a safe topic. “Do they come loose?”
At my question, she began to briefly fiddle with them and soon discovered that they would easily unscrew from their mountings. After that, it was but the work of a few moments to detach them.
“Okay…” she said thoughtfully. “Now what do we—“
Before she could finish, there came an extremely low and off-pitch dong from the clock and the three chains were sucked up into the upper chamber. Then the hands on the clock face began to spin crazily, each in opposite directions, until they came to a rest at exactly 12 o’clock.
Silence reigned for several seconds, the two of us holding perfectly still while we waited for the other shoe to drop.
“What… what just happened?” she whispered eventually.
“I uh…” I hesitated, then quickly glanced down. At the clock’s current indicated time, that should have meant that the trap had reconfigured itself such that the black tiles were the new safe ones. However, we were both standing on white. And nothing was happening. “I think we may have just disarmed the trap.”
“How can we know that?” she asked, still whispering for some reason. “It could have just reset. Maybe it’s not activating because we haven’t moved. Or we could have broken it. Maybe the white tiles are the safe ones now when the clock says black.”
“Uh… I guess we’ll have to experiment?” I hazarded. “We can’t just stand here forever.”
“Maybe you can’t.”
I just grunted. She was being a tad unreasonable, but I could understand where she was coming from. Getting repeatedly flung down a flight of stairs while a bunch of dart launchers attempt to perforate your ass did not make for a pleasant Tuesday afternoon.
“Alright, then,” I said before leaning over the railing to wrap a firm elbow between a pair of balusters. I very deliberately did not move my feet. “Make a choice.”
She grimaced at my admittedly silly looking position, then heaved a reluctant sigh before joining me. “You realize we’ll look like idiots if the trap was disarmed.”
“You get used to it.”
“What? Looking like an idiot?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“You get used to that, too.”
She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Donum, would you say you’re a particularly good Quester, or just someone hanging on by his fingernails?”
“I’ll let you know when I meet a ‘good’ Quester.”
Then I moved my foot.
Fortunately, it seemed I was correct. And it is a rare day indeed that I am happy to report I only felt like a fool.
Seleroan
Hey there, gentle reader.
Enjoying the content? Well, why not drop by my Patreon? It helps me keep this show running, and allows me to afford great things like editors, cover artists, and food!
Each chapter is now being personalized with some... passable chapter-inspired AI generated art. I try. But it gives things a bit of color. And you can read ahead!
Come on down! We'd love to see you.
