“Here you go.” I handed Safwan my draft letter after pouring every gram of my diplomacy skills into it.

I didn’t want to sound too desperate, and writing in what I called ‘posh-people’ talk had proven to be a tad more complicated than using it during speech. I wasn’t sure if I had achieved the right balance between vagueness, formality, and politeness, but that’s what Safwan was going to help me with. And once the budget issue was to be sorted, I’d invest in a secretary.

He stared at the sheet of paper with a frown proper to those who had trouble making out certain handwritings. I knew I had a tendency to write fast and with a lot of abbreviations, because oftentimes it was easier to rewrite my notes at some later day, than trying to make things look neat while in the field; But I had made an effort this time. I had made sure my ‘y’ and ‘g’ letters looked distinct enough, and that the lowercase ‘r’ letters were written the American way.

As Safwan continued to read through the letter, his frown deepened. After a few more seconds, he approached the desk.

“Hold still.” He said.

I saw purple sparkles gather around his free hand. After all the other weirdness I had seen from him, I was ready to dismiss it as ‘that’s just how he is’. I was still expecting him to explain what went wrong with the letter, but nothing was happening. And then it hit me.

“Are you trying to cast a spell?” I wasn’t even angry or frustrated anymore. Just mildly annoyed. I had thought we had made progress.

He nodded.

I rubbed my temple.

“Why?”

“Because of your altered mental status.”

“Look who opened a fucking thesaurus.” I couldn’t stop myself from muttering. “Altered is quite a long word.” I smirked, after noticing the look he gave me.

He bit down the edge of his lower lip.

“This is nonsense.” He finally said, ignoring the insult.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t arguing about that.

“I mean this thing you just wrote. It’s just a series of wiggles. You go from reading the ancient language of Zoré, to this. I don’t like you, but this is concerning. The spell didn’t work, so you should probably call in a physician.”

I looked up at him in exasperation. His expression was as sternly annoyed as usual, but I was surprised to see exhaustion in his eyes. I guessed it was because I was a pain to deal with as well.

I leaned back into the chair. Maybe now was the time to come clean about the reincarnation situation? But I wasn’t sure I was fully ready to trust him.

I started fidgeting with my hands, automatically rubbing the base of my index where I usually wore my ring. I was somewhat disappointed not to find the piece of jewellery there, thus momentarily distracting myself from the issue at hand.

“So, this letter,” I reached out and took the sheet of paper from his hands, laying it flat on the desk, “Is written in a language called English.” I paused. “That’s the language spoken where I’m from, Earth.”

I tapped the sheet once, to prove my point, and then leaned back, waiting for his reaction.

Had the atmosphere been less serious, the way his facial expression went from confused to angry in less than half a second would have been almost comical.

“Oh bloody fucking hell!” He flung both his hands up, and turned his back to me, starting to pace around the room.

“Oi, language! Watch it.” Whatever dignified façade I was trying to maintain was long gone by now. Worst of it was, I couldn’t even de-escalate a conflict the origin of which I did not understand.

“As if you understand me.” Safwan muttered, having come to a halt near the library, and still facing away from me.

I rubbed my forehead.

“Oh please, stop with your emo bullshit. ‘No one understands me, I’m a special little flower who dresses in all black, wears hoods indoors and thinks it’s cool to scare people’.” I air quoted with a sarcastic tone. “Well get over it. You’ve said it yourself, I’m stuck with you, you’re stuck with me. But believe me, under any other circumstances, your ass would have been out of her, on the first flight to whatever country was top on the list of departures.”

I took a second to breathe.

“Thing is, and I guess that’s on me, but if the previous dude was to be believed, you can’t stab me in the back cuz of some magic wumbo-jumbo. And I’ll take your attitude over that possibility any day. The way things are now -”

I shook my head. There was no need trying to explain my situation to him. I’d just stick to what Emanuel had said, murder and theft, with hopefully more of the latter than the former.

I ran my hand through my hair, fixing a few stray bangs behind my ear. Then I leaned back into the chair putting one arm over its back. I had no doubt I looked like a gangster at that moment.

“Oh, and while I’m at it, don’t go stealing priceless artefacts, get a copy or something.” I gestured towards the thick book still laying on my bed. “And don’t scare people like you did before, especially not me. If that happens again, I will, I promise you that, I will find a way to get back at you.”

That was a blatant lie, of course. The only time I took action against a co-worker was when I filed an HR complaint against them, and then never followed up on it. Despite my paranoia and other issues, I was a team player first and foremost, well, I had been in the past at least.

Safwan walked a few more circles around some arbitrary spot on the floor. He look as if he was ready to kick or punch the first thing that came his way, so, despite my tall talk earlier, I stayed well put in my chair, waiting for him to calm down. I briefly wondered where Margaux was. This was the perfect time for an accidental intrusion.

I tried to occupy myself, by first rearranging my untouched lunch on its plate, then neatly stacking together all the papers on my desk. None of them were exactly the same size, suggesting that paper factories had not yet been invented here. The map was the largest one of them all. I took it out of the stack and folded it in half. Then I remembered the roman numbers on it. I unfolded it once again.

A theory popped in my mind.

“Hey, repeat back to me what I said earlier.” I spoke, eyes still on the map.

I got a scoff as an answer.

“About the letter.” I specified. “English and Earth.”

Safwan shook his head, clearly still annoyed.

“Is written in a language called Kiom. That’s the language spoken where I’m from, Alliarè.” He said in a sarcastic imitation of my tone.

I was right.

“English. I said English. Not Kiom.” I said slowly, partially in hopes of convincing him, and partially to convince myself.

He realised his hands and shook his head, clearly confused.

I scratched the back of my neck, thinking of how I could explain it to him.

“All right, I will try to prove something to you. And that’s not that I have a head trauma. I will say words, and you will repeat them, okay?”

He rolled his eyes and gestured with his hand for me to go ahead.

“Car.”

“Chariot.”

“Ballpoint pen.”

“Pen.” He gestured towards the fountain pen laying on my desk.

“Lamp.”

“Lamp.” He gestured towards the ceiling.

“Lightbulb.”

“Mana-convector.”

“Alright. Airplane.”

“Airship.”

“Blimps.”

“Airship.” He answered with an annoyed tone.

I wondered how he didn’t notice that I was saying two completely different words.

“Smartphone.”

“Samrtphone.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What’s a smartphone?” I asked.

“A word you made up.” He answered with a mildly angry tone.

“Fine,” Curiosity overtook me. This translation situation had become way too intriguing. “Britain, Egypt, Canada, Slovakia.”

“Alliarè. Four times.” He said with a resigned sigh.

I paused, thinking for a second.

“Alright, translate this following sentence.”

He nodded. His posture had become more hunched in. It was as if he’d given up on talking to a sane person today.

“A ground-penetrating radar is typically equipped on LEO, low Earth Orbit, satellites. A GPR allows for the modelisations of digital elevation models. Its resolution is often limited by the RAM of the computers used to analyse its imagery rather than the imagery itself. A GPR will not be able to pick up certain military installations such as submarines or airplane carriers. It is also unable to pick up a nuclear missile launch. But a GPR is excellent at predicting glacial velocity, particularly in the context of climate change and global warming.”

Safwan shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

“You mean the words?”

“I know some of them. But the context eludes me.”

“Well, let’s try this then,” I picked up the pen and a blank sheet of paper, but before I was able to do anything, Safwan interrupted me.

“That girl is coming. I will be on my way.”

Something in his expression told me he was fully able to ‘make his presence unknown’, as he’d put it earlier, but preferred to leave me to my own devices. And sure enough, he headed towards the open window.

“Wait.” I called out. “Could you put that book back where you’ve found it, and find a copy or an abridged version if possible? And also, could you make a quick background check on all the people currently employed here? I need to know who I can trust, and who is expandable.”

He nodded and picked up the book.

“Thanks.” I added just as he was about to leave.

The next few minutes were filled with a silence that was only occasionally disturbed by the rustling of the curtains. Now I had fully the time to appreciate how hungry I was. But I did not want for Margaux to come in tight when I was chewing on something.

After a short while, when no one had still come knocking at my door, I decided to go and check for myself. I had assumed Safwan meant Margaux, but that might not have been the case.

Sure enough, when I opened my door, I was greeted by an unfamiliar face.

“Is there anything my lady needs help with?” A young woman asked.

She had pale skin and narrow eyes. Her hair was cut short, in a boyish manner. I would have described her as ‘of Asian descent’ had Asia existed in this world.

“Yes, how long have you been waiting here?” I asked.

“A few hours, I came as soon as I was asked to, after your personal maid left.” She replied politely.

I noticed that she lacked that enthusiasm Margaux always had in her voice. But then again, if she’d been waiting here for a while, that was quite natural.

“Was I not supposed to?” She asked, trying to fill in the silence.

“No, not at all. You did perfectly well. Did you by any chance hear any – noise – coming from the room?”

“No my lady. I’m afraid that with the barrier in place, I did not hear you calling for me.” She apologised.

I shook my head. That wasn’t what I meant, but I was glad to learn that the room was soundproof. The last thing I wanted was for someone to hear me raise my voice.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” The maid asked.

“Yes, I apologise for not asking this sooner, but what is your name?”

I went back to my noble-woman persona.

“It’s Rahelle, my lady.” The maid bowed.

“Thank you Rahelle, could you go and check downstairs if Margaux has arrived? I have sent her out on an errand you see.”

“Of course my lady.” The maid bowed again.

She hadn’t made her way halfway through the long hallway when a familiar figure popped from around the corner.

‘Speaking of the devil’, I thought.

Margaux was carrying two shoe-sized boxes wrapped up in fabric. She also seemed out of breath, probably from running up the stairs, or climbing up the hill the residence lay on.

“Perfect timing,” I called out, and nodded towards the room, inviting her to come in.