Chapter 41

Darkness. “Scanning. Player detected. Welcome back to Fantasia, Fey E’lan.” Blinding light.

◊◊◊

Fey logged onto Fantasia slightly earlier than usual. A quick survey of her friend list showed that neither Sirena nor Blade were online yet. As usual, Leandriel’s name was written in the green that indicated he was online. Fey had never seen the angel offline, as would be expected of an NPC (or employee who played 10-12 hours a day and lived in the same time zone.)

Within a few seconds, Fey received a PM:

It was the angel’s habit to greet her whenever she logged on. Fey smiled and replied:

Fey’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

Leandriel sent a request to initiate video chat. When Fey accepted, he appeared on a virtual screen. At the sight of his angelic glory, Fey blinked three times in succession as primary personality and inner fangirl wrestled for control of her body. (Fey won the battle for voice, facial expression, and most of her motor control, but was forced to cede control of her hands to the fangirl, who made her fingers twist in agitated excitement.)

Amethyst was the first one to notice the difference. From her position on Fey’s shoulder, she squeaked in surprise. (“Magic’s all tall and fluffy!”) The other pets all scrambled to see for themselves, swimming around Fey’s head and making their own excited comments.

Whether Fey understood her pets or noticed the transformation on her own was up for debate. Either way, she looked at the mushroom perched on Leandriel’s shoulder and asked in an amused voice, “Is that a death angel?”

Leandriel was surprised she recognized the species and it showed in his voice when he answered, “Yes, it is.”

Fey answered his unspoken question by explaining, “Alpha-amanitin is a toxin used in biochemical experiments involving RNA Polymerase.” (This really raised more questions than it answered.) She continued, “Does this mean Magic’s poison has changed?”

Taken aback by the unexpected course of the conversation, Leandriel replied, “Ah, let me check. Yes.” He read off, “Death angel poison: starting at 1 damage per minute, damage increases by 1 per minute every minute. Poison does not wear off and can only be cured by a greater antidote. Requires level 30 Immunity to negate its effects.”

“Wow, talk about a slow and painful death. Remind me to collect a sample next time.” Speaking directly to Magic, she said, “Congratulations on evolving, Magic!”

The mushroom murmured a cheerful reply. His happy expression was at odds with his owner’s uncomfortable look.

“There’s something else,” Leandriel confessed. He sounded guilty and repentant.

Fey could not really imagine an in-game scenario that warranted the angel’s tone of voice. “What is it?” she asked, starting to worry.

After a pause, Leandriel’s words came out in a rush. “Since Magic has outstripped you in level, I cannot return his ownership to you without reverting him to his starting state.”

“Oh.” Fey took a moment to process the information. “That’s okay.”

“You are… okay with it?” Leandriel asked cautiously. The word “okay” sounded strange, not matching the angel’s formal speech patterns.

“Yeah. Magic can stay with you. That is, if you don’t mind keeping him.”

“Of course not. But… You are okay with it?”

Fey smiled. Leandriel was normally quick-thinking and articulate, but he was clearly finding it difficult to understand her reaction. “Yeah. He’s happy with you.” Fey did not think of her pets as equipment to be used in battle, but companions whose preferences mattered. Recalling how well Magic and Leandriel had gotten along the few times she had adventured with the angel, she did not even feel surprised to learn that her pet would not be returning to her. It felt like her subconscious (or a certain author) had long ago decided that the two belonged together.

Leandriel stared at her for so long that even Fey, with her unique brand of oblivious self-confidence, could not help but feel discomfited. “Is there something wrong?” she finally asked, looking away from his bright blue eyes.

Leandriel blinked. “Ah, no, my apologies. You… your reaction is not what I expected.”

Fey smiled. Randomness was her specialty. “That’s me,” she said cheerfully.

Before the conversation could continue, Fey looked up at the sound of her name. Looking off into the distance, she could see Requiem swimming towards her. (*sigh* that guy really does ruin everything.)

“Looks like my party is starting to log on,” Fey said to Leandriel. “Talk to you later?”

“Of course. Goodbye.” With a smile that tripled the power of Fey’s inner fangirl (giving her control up to the elbows), Leandriel ended the video chat.

Fey turned rather impatiently towards the incoming merman. Talking to Requiem felt like a poor, poor substitute to her previous conversation. (On the bright side, Fey regained full control of her body as the fangirl took one look at Requiem and fell into a stupor.)

The merman appeared energetic in his demeanour. :What are you so excited about?: Fey asked.

:I mastered the two overlimits you told me about last night.:

Fey was not even slightly impressed, as extending range and duration of notes were the two easiest things she could possibly imagine using telepathy. :Congratulations.:

Fey’s utterly neutral tone took much of the wind from Requiem’s (figurative) sails. Rallying his spirits, he offered, :And I think I came up with one of the other requirements.:

That garnered a slight bit of interest. :What is it?:

A (melo)dramatic pause, and he answered, :Harmony!:

:…Oh, you mean singing multiple notes at the same time. Sounds about right: Once Requiem pointed it out, it seemed like the most glaringly obvious limitation to singing, and indeed most instruments. One of the reasons Fey enjoyed playing piano was because it allowed her to become the whole choir or orchestra, creating multiple lines of melody and harmony on her own.

:Exactly: Requiem said with satisfaction.

:I don’t think singing multiple notes can be done without a lot of talent and practice: Fey pointed out. She could not imagine simultaneously focusing on two notes well enough to sing them both.

:It can’t be that hard: Requiem disagreed.

Fey raised an eyebrow. :Go for it, then.: Her challenge was issued in the same tone as she would to a five-year-old who insisted he could open a heavy door by himself. :I’ll be over here.: Fey swam several metres away so that she could train Immunity without affecting Requiem with Amethyst’s Poison Sphere.

Requiem watched Fey swim away, feeling yet again that things were not going correctly between him and the elf. He could not figure out what he was doing wrong that she always reacted with cool neutrality.

Requiem was surprised when Fey settled into a nondescript patch of water and pulled out her slime. She muttered something to it that caused her other pets to swim away. Strangely enough, they all began to circle their owner at a set distance; there were enough of them that they marked the boundaries of a sphere several times his height.

Curiously, he swam up. He could see no difference in the water at the boundary line. Stretching out a hand—

:I wouldn’t do that if I were you: Fey warned.

:Why not?:

:I’m training my poison Immunity. Cross the line, and you’ll be joining me.: A sweet smile made the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. Something about Fey’s eyes did not match the expression. (This was because under the myopic influence of poison mushroom poison, Fey could not see properly.)

Requiem swam backwards away from the invisible sphere. :I’ll, uh, be practicing over here.: He ended up much farther away than the original distance Fey had put between them. He tried to convince himself that his retreat was because he needed to work on the Siren’s Song quest.

Clearing his mind, he hummed a note, then a major third above it. With a frown of concentration, he attempted to hum both pitches at the same time.

The attempt did not work very well, resulting in him switching abruptly between the notes rather than singing them at the same time. He tried again and again. The task occupied his attention enough that he did not immediately notice the arrival of the rest of the party.

Sirena and Blade logged on within a minute and a metre of each other. Sirena glanced over at Requiem, then Fey. Clearly dismissing the merman in her mind, she hooked elbows with Blade and propelled them both towards her best friend.

:Stay out of the Poison Sphere: Fey warned. Sirena and Blade stopped at the edge of the pet-marked border.

:Hi: greeted Blade, following social etiquette for entering people’s presences.

:So I asked a bunch of people what they thought the quest overlimits might be, and I got two answers we didn’t already figure out: Sirena announced, ignoring the aforementioned etiquette.

:Mhmm?: Fey made a questioning noise. :Hi, Blade: she tacked on as an afterthought.

:One was the ability to sing multiple notes at the same time, and the other to change the quality of your voice.:

:Bard dude over there already figured out the first one: Fey indicated with a tilt of her head, :but what do you mean by the second?:

:Allow me to demonstrate.: Sirena did the telepathic equivalent of clearing her throat, then mimicked, :What do you mean by the second?: in a voice indistinguishable from Fey’s.

Blade jerked back at the sound of Fey’s voice coming from someone else. “That is so creepy,” he complained.

Fey and Sirena grinned at each other, completely in accord without the need for telepathy. :What’s creepy?: they asked in perfect unison, Sirena still projecting Fey’s voice.

Blade shuddered. “Stop that.” Fey in stereo was more than he could handle.

Fey could not resist. :Okay!: she answered in Sirena’s brighter, higher-pitched voice.

Blade was starting to feel seriously disoriented. “I do not like this ability,” he muttered.

Taking pity on the hapless warrior, Sirena patted him on the shoulder and said, :I’ll go torment lover-boy over there instead.: in her own voice. She swam off towards Requiem.

Amethyst squeaked. (“Another 1.5m out!”) The other pets adjusted their swimming accordingly, now marking a sphere 5 metres in radius.

Blade was disadvantaged by the fact he did not speak Squeak, and was caught in the newly-expanded Poison Sphere that Amethyst cast. (What, did you really think he was going to get out of this scene without being poisoned?)

“[Censored word]!” Blade backed out of the poisonous waters. “Stop doing that!”

:Ehe. Sorry.: Fey held Amethyst in front of her face and said in her best stern voice, :Try not to poison Blade anymore.:

Amethyst paused, then squeaked dubiously. (“I’ll try.”)

Blade sighed and settled down to wait out the poison effect.

Blade glared at Fey. “You’d better not say ‘you’re welcome’.”

Fey wore an innocent look. :I wasn’t gonna.: It was not in Fey’s nature to force people to do things ‘for their own good’. (She believed it was everyone’s right to screw up their own lives.)

***

Sirena swam towards Requiem while humming a song titled “Playa(1)”. She doubted the merman would recognize the tune, but figured that his ignorance would be just as irritating to him.

The merman was busy humming something himself and did not notice Sirena’s approach until she was within arm’s reach. Irritation flashed across his features as he saw her.

:How’s it going?: Sirena asked in a singsong voice.

:Better before you got here: was the aggravated reply.

Sirena affected an expression of disappointment. :I heard you figured out the fourth overlimit. Guess you don’t want to know about the fifth.: She turned to return to Fey and Blade.

Requiem growled. :Wait.:

Sirena turned back around. :Yes?: she asked as if she did not know what the merman wanted.

:Tell me.:

Sirena put her hands over her hips (or where her hips would be if she had legs). :How rude. Is that any way to ask for a favour?:

Requiem looked like he might explode. Sirena did it for him, bursting into laughter in a way that defused his temper and left him confused. :You’re too easy.: Deciding she had met the ‘aggravate Requiem’ quota for the day (or at least an hour), she mimicked his tenor voice. :It’s changing the tonal quality of your voice.:

Sirena laughed again at the merman’s surprise. :You can do it!: she encouraged in Fey’s voice, causing Requiem to startle even more.

At this point, Sirena saw that she had seized such a huge lead in their verbal sparring that Requiem had no chance of catching up. Deciding it would be boring to continue, she broke off hostilities. :Well, that’s all I wanted to say.: she said in her own voice. :Bye!: She swam off again, intending to return to Fey and Blade.

Looking beside her, she paused. :Why are you following me?:

Requiem rolled his eyes. :We’re in the same party.:

:Don’t you have to practice singing or something?:

:Don’t you?: he countered.

:Good point.:

Sirena paused in the water and Requiem followed suit, confused. She sang the three notes that made up a major triad in succession, then all at once.

:How the [censored word] did you do that!?: Requiem demanded.

Sirena looked at him confusedly. :I just did it.: Sirena was naturally gifted at music, and a quirk in the way she processed it made it easy for her to perform all of the overlimits without practice. She was unable to explain how she did what she did, as she had never experienced music through the mind of another person and did not understand the difficulties Requiem faced.

Resuming her forward motion, Sirena reached Fey and Blade. :…Did that sphere get bigger?:

“Yeah.” Blade sounded rather aggravated as he answered.

Not-so-subtly changing the subject, Fey asked, :How’s the singing going?: from within her poisonous domain.

:Looks like I’ve unlocked all the overlimits. It says that Siren’s Song will work when I use all of them in a single performance.:

:What? No way. How did you sing multiple notes?: Fey asked.

:Um, like this.: Sirena sang a major triad again.

Fey wore an expression of intense concentration. When she heard chords, they did not sound like the sum of individual notes but rather a new sound that blended the notes. This made concentrating on and projecting multiple notes all but impossible. Unless…

:Sing it again, will you?:

Sirena complied. When she sang the triad, Fey did not attempt to pick out the individual notes, instead focusing on memorizing the way the blended chord sounded to her.

Taking a deep breath, she projected the chord out through telepathy. It worked, though not being a bard, Fey did not gain any abilities.

:You did it!: Sirena exclaimed. :High five!: She held up a webbed hand.

Fey bade Amethyst to stop casting Poison Sphere and swam over to slap her palm against her friend’s.

Sirena glanced sideways and said, :Woah, what’s with that face?: Requiem looked sour enough to clean pennies(2). He was not pleased that both girls had succeeded where he had failed, even with almost half an hour of practice.

:Are you bullying Requiem?: Fey asked. It seemed that her friend had moved from subtle digs to full-out verbal attacks. She did not entirely approve; the obvious approach lost style points and generally resulted in inconvenient group dynamics that lowered productivity.

:Only a little bit: Sirena said with her most endearing look. Fey was unmoved (*100% cutesiness resistance*).

Sirena was suddenly inspired by the forces of diabolical mischievousness. Turning to Requiem as if chastised, she sincerely apologized. :Sorry, Requiem. We seem to have gotten off to a bad start.:

Requiem graciously replied, :No worries.:

:It’s no problem if you can’t learn this stuff by yourself. Fey’s a really good teacher. In fact, why don’t Blade and I go find something else to do while you guys have a private tutoring session?: The diabolical trap had been sprung.

Fey’s expression flitted from distaste to resignation. :Nine out of ten: she rated Sirena’s level of diabolical-ness, causing both Blade and Requiem to look confused.

Laughing, Sirena hooked elbows with Blade. :Shall we?:

:…Sure.: Noticing Fey’s distinct lack of enthusiasm for the plan, he asked, :You okay with this?: (Aww, he’s so nice. Fey should really stop being mean to him.)

:Yup: Fey answered with studied neutrality. :After all, it’s the logical thing to do.: She was fairly sure she could explain the remaining two overlimits to Requiem in a way he would understand.

Requiem seemed happy with the suggestion, both because he would be free of Sirena’s presence and because he would be alone with Fey. :Cool. Thanks, Fey.:

Swimming away with Blade in tow, Sirena could not resist sending Fey a PM.

Fey beckoned to Ebony (the bunny-eared mermaid-shaped gloom) and murmured a low-voiced request before sending her after Sirena.

:Aww, so cute. Thanks, Fey!: she called back to her friend.

Ebony morphed into a monstrous cave spider and landed on Sirena’s head.

Fey winced at the incredibly loud shriek that rang through the ocean, but the pain did not stop her smile. :Shall we?: she said cheerfully to Requiem.

Footnotes:

(1) “Playa” by Hamel and St. Croix feat. Jules Mari is a song featured in DanceDanceRevolution X for PS2

(2) Pure copper, as on the surface of pennies, will react with oxygen in the air; the resulting copper oxide results in old pennies’ ‘tarnished’ appearance. Soaking them in mild acids such as vinegar or lemon juice is a common way to dissolve the copper oxide, renewing the pennies’ appearance. This process can be accelerated by adding salt to the acid.