Chapter Eight
Aiden sat on the bed.
Brittany leaned against the wall.
They had been practicing for nine minutes.
It was going terribly.
"Again."
Aiden groaned.
"No."
"Again."
"I don't want to."
"For Candy."
"No."
"For your dignity."
"Already gone."
"For the continued survival of your bloodline."
Aiden stared at her.
"I'm fourteen."
Brittany paused.
"Fair. Retracted. For your ability to have one normal conversation before you graduate."
He sighed.
Deeply.
From somewhere below the soul.
Then:
"...Do you like cheese?"
Silence.
Brittany stared.
Aiden stared back.
"Again?"
"I panicked!"
"AGAIN?"
"It's a good question!"
"This is not a dairy-based romance arc, Aiden!"
"People like cheese!"
"People like oxygen too. Are you going to ask Candy if she enjoys breathing?"
Aiden folded his arms.
"Maybe."
Brittany's runes flickered.
"No cheese. No milk. No butter. No dairy-based courtship."
"Fine."
"Say hello."
Aiden inhaled.
Closed his eyes.
Centered himself like an emotionally constipated monk.
Then:
"Hi. My name is Aiden. I like swords."
Brittany waited.
Aiden opened his eyes.
"What?"
"That's it?"
"It's a start."
"She knows your name."
"Fine. Hi. I like swords."
"She can see the sword."
"You're making this harder."
"I'm trying to prevent you from walking up to Candy and presenting yourself like a badly written character biography."
Aiden flopped backward.
"What am I supposed to say?"
Brittany considered it.
"Ask her about herself."
"Like what?"
"What classes she likes. What she does outside the Academy. What kind of fighter she is. Where she's from."
Aiden frowned.
"That sounds boring."
"That's called a conversation."
"Oh."
"Women are people, Aiden."
"I know that!"
"Excellent. We're making progress."
He threw a pillow at her.
It bounced harmlessly off the scabbard.
Brittany gasped.
"Assaulting your Support. Very attractive."
"Shut up."
"Candy would be appalled."
"Stop saying her name."
"Candy."
"Brittany."
"Candy."
"Stop."
"Candy."
Aiden grabbed the second pillow.
"Violence will not make her love you."
"It'll make me feel better."
Brittany laughed.
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Eventually Aiden gave up.
Not because Brittany released him.
Because he stopped answering.
He simply lay face-down across the bed and refused to participate.
Brittany continued coaching anyway.
"Tomorrow, you say hello."
Silence.
"That's it. No grand romantic gesture."
Nothing.
"No Aethryn Shadowbane."
A muffled noise came from the pillow.
"No cheese."
The noise became louder.
"If cheese comes out of your mouth, I'm overriding your vocal cords."
Aiden lifted his head.
"You can't do that."
Brittany considered Combat Assistance.
"...Probably."
His eyes narrowed.
"Relax. Probably."
He dropped his face again.
Five minutes later, his breathing changed.
Brittany noticed.
"Did you seriously fall asleep?"
Nothing.
"Aiden."
Nothing.
Brittany waited.
Then:
"Candy likes gouda."
No response.
Definitely asleep.
Brittany settled in for another long night.
Fantastic.
She opened W.A.R.D.E.N.
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Brittany had developed a research strategy.
It consisted primarily of clicking things she clearly wasn't supposed to click.
So far, results were mixed.
She searched:
07A
Nothing.
LEGACY SIGNATURE
Nothing.
INACTIVE SUPPORT
Thousands of results.
Mostly boring.
She narrowed the search.
SESSION IDENTIFIER 07A
Nothing.
SUPPORT IDENTIFIER 07A
Nothing.
07A + LEGACY
Nothing.
Brittany stared at the interface.
"You are the worst internet."
She tried accessing deeper system documentation.
A directory opened.
SUPPORT ARCHITECTURE
Interesting.
She selected it.
Public records.
Bond mechanics.
Manifestation basics.
Communication pathways.
Synchronization theory.
She scrolled.
Then stopped.
One category sat beneath the others.
IDENTIFICATION ARCHITECTURE
Brittany selected it.
ACCESS UNAVAILABLE
She frowned.
Not restricted.
Unavailable.
She tried again.
Same response.
ACCESS UNAVAILABLE
Brittany searched the term.
The public documentation explained:
Certain records are inaccessible when no compatible record type exists for the requesting Support classification.
Brittany reread it.
Once.
Twice.
"...What?"
She opened her own Support profile.
Or tried.
SUPPORT PROFILE
NAME: BRITTANY
USER: AIDEN
BOND: ACTIVE
MANIFESTATION: ACTIVE
CLASSIFICATION: —
Brittany stopped.
There should've been something after that.
She knew there should've been something because every example in the documentation had one.
Combat.
Guardian.
Arcane.
Healing.
Tactical.
Scout.
Whatever.
Brittany's was blank.
She selected it.
Nothing.
Selected again.
Nothing.
"Okay."
Her runes dimmed.
"That's probably fine."
It was not probably fine.
Brittany backed out.
She did not need another existential crisis tonight.
She clicked the Support complaint forum instead.
Much healthier.
The top post read:
MY USER HASN'T BATHED IN FOUR DAYS. CAN I REQUEST REASSIGNMENT?
Brittany opened it.
Immediately.
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The next morning, Aiden woke with a groan.
Brittany had spent the entire night reading Support complaints.
She had learned several things.
One: Users were disgusting.
Two: Supports were petty.
Three: somebody named FlameOfJudgment92 had been banned from six separate forums for repeatedly suggesting murder as conflict resolution.
Brittany had followed them.
Aiden stretched.
Then scratched himself.
Brittany recoiled.
"No."
He froze.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He yawned.
Scratched again.
"Stop."
"Stop what?"
"Existing like that."
Aiden stared at her.
Then lifted one arm.
Sniffed.
Brittany experienced the smell through their bond.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then:
"Oh my fucking God."
"What?"
"You stink."
"I do not."
"Aiden."
"I showered—"
He stopped.
Thought.
Brittany waited.
"...Recently."
"Recently is not a unit of time."
"I was busy!"
"You smell like teen depression and armpit."
Aiden sniffed himself again.
"STOP CHECKING."
"It's not that bad."
Brittany's interface appeared.
She stared.
Then deliberately pushed a notification into his awareness.
TEMPORARY STATUS EFFECT
STINKY BOY AURA
CHARISMA: -2
Aiden's mouth fell open.
"What?!"
Brittany cackled.
"Is that real?!"
"It is now."
"You can do that?!"
"Apparently."
"Brittany!"
"Shower."
"I have class!"
"You have Candy."
Aiden was on his feet immediately.
Brittany went silent.
Then:
"...Wow."
"Shut up."
"The motivational power of puberty."
"SHUT UP."
He grabbed clean clothes.
Brittany laughed.
Then he walked toward the bathroom.
And Brittany realized something.
Oh.
Oh no.
"Wait."
Aiden stopped.
"What?"
Brittany became acutely aware of their bond.
She could feel his heartbeat.
His breathing.
Muscle tension.
Temperature.
She could perceive his surroundings through him.
Sometimes she got flashes of what he saw.
And Aiden was about to—
"NOPE."
"What?"
"We need boundaries."
"What are you talking about?"
"Privacy. Immediately."
Aiden stared at the sword.
Then at the bathroom.
Then back at the sword.
Understanding dawned.
His entire face went red.
"Oh."
"YES. OH."
"I didn't think about that."
"NEITHER DID I."
Aiden looked horrified.
Brittany was horrified.
They stood in mutual existential disgust.
Then Brittany opened her interface.
Fast.
BOND
She selected it.
Options unfolded.
SENSORY SHARING
EMOTIONAL FEEDBACK
COMMUNICATION
PROXIMITY
There.
SENSORY SHARING
She opened it.
FULL
PARTIAL
MINIMAL
PRIVACY
Brittany had never loved a word more.
"Oh thank God."
She selected PRIVACY.
The world vanished.
Not like when Neil held her.
That had been nothing.
This was different.
Warm.
Quiet.
Aiden remained there at the edge of her awareness.
She knew he existed.
Knew the bond was intact.
But she couldn't feel his body.
Couldn't see through him.
Couldn't hear what he heard.
Couldn't—
"YES."
Aiden's voice came faintly through communication only.
"Brittany?"
"I CAN'T SEE YOU."
"...Good?"
"It's beautiful."
"Okay."
"I CAN'T FEEL YOUR ARMPITS."
"Please stop saying that."
"GO SHOWER."
The bathroom door closed.
Brittany sat blissfully alone inside her own awareness.
No Aiden.
No body.
No smells.
No scratching.
Nothing.
Beautiful.
She opened W.A.R.D.E.N.
A system notification appeared.
BOND PRIVACY MODE ENABLED
USER AND SUPPORT MAY INDEPENDENTLY ENABLE PRIVACY MODE
Brittany paused.
Independently.
Good.
That mattered.
She read further.
EMERGENCY CONDITIONS MAY OVERRIDE PRIVACY RESTRICTIONS.
Also good.
If Aiden was dying in the shower, she could still save him.
Preferably without seeing anything.
Brittany returned to the forums.
Three minutes passed.
Then communication opened.
"Brittany?"
"What?"
"Do you think Candy likes pancakes or waffles?"
Brittany stared into the peaceful void.
"How the fuck would I know?"
"I could ask her."
Brittany paused.
Oh.
Actually.
"Yes."
"What?"
"That's a normal question."
"Really?"
"Yes! Food. Breakfast. Preferences. Conversation."
Aiden sounded delighted.
"So waffles?"
"You ask what she likes."
"Right."
Pause.
"Should I ask about cheese too?"
Brittany immediately muted communication.
Silence.
Perfect silence.
Brittany relaxed.
Then a notification appeared.
USER REQUESTING COMMUNICATION
She declined.
Again.
USER REQUESTING COMMUNICATION
Decline.
Again.
USER REQUESTING COMMUNICATION
Brittany stared.
"Persistent little shit."
She accepted.
Aiden immediately:
"—I WAS KIDDING."
Brittany waited.
"Hello?"
"Are you clean?"
"...Yes."
"Prove it."
Silence.
Brittany realized what she'd said.
"NO. DON'T. TERRIBLE WORDING. RETRACTED."
Aiden started laughing.
Actually laughing.
Hard.
Brittany sat in horrified silence.
"Oh gods," he wheezed. "You should've heard yourself."
"I hate you."
"You said prove it!"
"I KNOW WHAT I SAID."
Aiden laughed harder.
Brittany opened the interface.
PRIVACY MODE: MAXIMUM
"Aww, Brittany—"
Click.
Silence.
Brittany remained there for another full minute.
Then, reluctantly:
PRIVACY MODE: PARTIAL
The bond returned.
Clean soap.
Wet hair.
Fresh clothes.
No biohazard.
Acceptable.
Aiden grinned through their connection.
Brittany could feel it.
"Say one word and I'm turning it back off."
He wisely said nothing.
Brittany considered him.
Then:
"Charisma debuff removed."
Aiden pumped one fist.
"Yes!"
"Still three, though."
His celebration died.
Brittany cackled.
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