The purebred construct doesn’t react as I get close. Its body isn’t as toned as the construct in our tower–nor do its muscles or joints look… good. The thing has extremely tiny hips, very wide shoulders, and a torso that’s too long for its relatively short legs. I click my tongue in thought as I stare deep into its bulging eyes–a stare that it doesn’t return at all. Not like our construct, that’s for sure.

  In case I’m mistaken, though, I wave a hand in front of its face. “Hello. We’re your… guests for this subquest. Can you talk?”

  Absolutely nothing happens; the construct continues waving stiffly without a sound as I stand here waiting for anything. That’s what I expected, but it would’ve been a lot easier if this thing could talk normally. This is probably where I’m supposed to pull out my Class Card to check for any new notifications, but since I already skipped to that step, it’s time to see if the messenger can do some work.

  I swipe to it, do one more quick look-over just in case I missed anything obvious, then tap ‘hey’ into the message window without setting a recipient. Magic snaps between my Class Card and its eyes in a bolt of grey. It slowly turns to face exactly where I’m standing, eyes focused on my Class Card, and opens its mouth. But instead of a sound, my Class Card flickers with a brand new messenger notification as the construct mechanically opens and closes its mouth like a wooden nutcracker.

  (Repeat Greeting)

  Hey.

  I need help.

  After staring expectantly at the thing for a few seconds, it dawns on me that there’s no explanation coming. I quickly tap out another simple sentence; ‘what do you need help with’, then let it sit for a second. Another snap of magic delivers my message, and the construct’s arms jerkily open to gesture at the room.

  (Recognize Offer of Aid)

  Something is wrong with my home.

  Find it/all of it/every last trace of it and get rid of it/correct it.

  Talk to me if you need further explanation.

  “Vague as hell, but that’s expected.” I sigh as I look over my shoulder at the pair. “Jumble, Euro, did you get those notifications too?”

  Jumble nods down at her Class Card with a frown. “I can’t see what you… wrote to it, I guess, but I can see what it said. Why are there words in parentheses at the top?”

  “Dunno.” I send my Class Card away with a shrug. “Seems like it’s the construct reacting to what I said. Maybe because you don’t get to see what I write.”

  “Hmm… I guess.” Jumble murmurs as she taps away at her own Class Card, then looks up at the construct. “Let’s see what it has to say about this.

  A spark of grey lances straight through my chest to connect Jumble’s Class Card to the construct. I blink in surprise and reach down to feel at the place where it obviously shot through as Jumble scrambles to her feet in obvious panic. As far as I can see, there’s not a new hole there. Hell, there’s no damage at all.

  “Are you okay?!” She says in a panic, her hands groping at me where the bolt struck. “Dang, is the wound being camouflaged? I don’t know how to treat an invisible wound!”

  I smack her hands away with a glare that’d curdle milk. “Watch your goddamn hands.”

  Her brow furrows in confusion. “Watch my… o-oh! Oh, my!” Her face blossoms with colour and she turns away with shame, covering her face with her hands. “I’m so, so sorry! I just… I thought I hurt you!”

  “Yeah, that doesn't give you permission to cop a feel. Keep your hands to yourself.” I grimace and roll my shoulder to set my jacket and shirt back into the right position. “That’d get you a four knuckle hello any other time, so think a little before you start doing shit. Or next time I’ll break your damn fingers.”

  “Sorry.” Jumble whimpers through her fingers. “I didn’t mean to.”

  I snort and turn away from her. If she’d pulled that shit on Ursula, she’d be missing both arms from the elbows down right now. With magic being as… well… normal as it is here, I’d have thought Jumble would be less gung-ho to do anything that could be perceived as a threat. Hell, if I didn’t have my awareness to warn me, I would’ve retaliated under the assumption that my safety was in danger. I glare at Jumble back as she slinks away in embarrassed shame without a hint of pity rising from my chest.

  …Damn, that left a bad taste in my mouth. And completely side-tracked me from the actual important quest things we were just in the middle of. Almost as if she… did that on purpose. …No. There’s no way she tried to distract me, right? What’d be the goddamn point of that? Ah, shit, now the idea’s rolling around in my head like a marble clanging around in a thermos. Gotta focus on what’s in front of me–if she’s actually trying to distract me, it’s the best thing I can do.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I summon my Class Card and check to see the construct’s response to whatever Jumble’s message was.

  (No Response Available)

  (Only Select Messages Will Trigger Responses)

  Well. That’s one absurdly massive hint. Though I guess just not saying anything would pretty much be the same. Honestly, though, this kind of feels… tutorial-ish? Like I should’ve done this one first, then found the chasing stain. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if one of the rewards for this is the location of the plate to start the subquest we already did.

  I tap out a few more messages to try and get the construct to respond. None of them give me anything, so there must be some keywords that I don’t have yet. Guess all we can do now is check this place out. While I avoid Jumble and her potentially dangerous social stupidity. And I thought bards were supposed to be the ones with all the charisma.

  Another bolt of magic flashes between Jumble and the construct. I turn to see if she’s doing anything off, but before I can get my neck around, she stares into a corner like it’s the most riveting show in existence. At least she has the wherewithal to be ashamed of it.

  “Shelby… are you really this annoyed over a little touch?” Pearl asks. “You touch Clutter all the time, and he touches you sometimes too. How’s this any different?”

  I send my Class Card away with a sigh and scan the room for anything out of place. Then I remember that I actually have a way to talk secretly with Pearl now and re-summon it to tap out a response.

  ‘I know you know enough about humans to know why I’m pissed.’ I type quickly with hard taps. ‘That’s crossing a line that not even lovers do without consent. Call me prude, but I don’t like being groped by someone I barely even know–doesn’t matter what gender or species they are.’

  Pearl hums as she looks back at Jumble. “I really don’t think she meant it that way. But considering she reacted how she did when she realized what she did… I guess it doesn’t matter if she meant it or not. It doesn't change the fact that she made you uncomfortable.”

  ‘See, now you’re getting it.’ I glance up at the construct as if I’m waiting for something to happen, just in case Jumble’s watching. ‘Add in the fact that she could’ve very easily been trying to stab me, and she got all my defensive instincts blaring. Nobody with a class should be this unaware–she had to have done it on purpose.’

  “And what if she didn’t?”

  I snort and head for the other rooms. ‘Then she’s way too innocent to have had a class for years. Which brings up a whole other host of problems.’

  This time, I let the words linger long enough to get sent to the construct. It immediately replies exactly the same as before, so I didn’t randomly stumble on an important clue. Too bad; would’ve saved all of us some time. Euro glances over their shoulder as I walk by the room, waves awkwardly, then gets right back to their search. They’re finally acting like a rogue; I barely noticed them leaving the main room.

  I lean into one of the two rooms nobody’s explored yet; a wetroom with a drain on the floor and a one-person tub built into the far wall. There’s something like a sink close to the entrance, with three lidded glass jars of herbs and a bar of white soap on a shelf right next to it. Other than that, there’s a few holes in the ceiling above the tub and another dozen or so right above the drain. If I had to bet, I’d say that’s where the water comes from.

  And that’s it for the wetroom. No towels, no other bathing devices, and nothing that looks like it could be a toothbrush. I step in, noting that there still aren't any doors even after the quest repopulated this place, and grab one of the jars. This one has little green leaves shot through with a white-blue that radiates a sensation of freshness. The other two have deep red buds with dried black web-like strands, and rolled white petals so dry and hard that they smack against the glass like bullets.

  I pop open the minty-looking leaves and waft the scent from them towards my nose. An almost alcoholic cleanliness assaults my nostrils, reaching up into my brain to grab hold of it and shake me awake with freshness. A cough rips its way out of my chest as I shove the things as far away from me as I can.

  “God, that’s just rubbing alcohol and vaporub.” I stifle another cough as I seal the little leaves of hate away. “If this is what they used to clean their teeth, they really do have a worse sense of taste than we do. How the hell do they cope with the smell, though?”

  Footsteps clatter from the other room. Moments later, Euro stands at the door looking in. Their eyes are narrowed with focus as they scan the room until they lock onto the jar in my hand. Knowing sympathy softens their gaze as their body relaxes.

  “That’s an old paindne cleanser. You crush one between your fingers, then spread the oil over your teeth and tongue.” They explain without taking a step into the room. “It lasts for a few days, but it’s insanely unpleasant to actually use. Your breath will be extremely fresh for those days, though.”

  “Good to know.” I set the jar down and pick up the others; one in each hand. “Do you know what these are?”

  Euro nods slowly. “More old remedies. The buds are painkillers and give really weak healing effects, and the petals are like a… nutritional supplement. Anyone who lived here probably needed to take one every day.”

  “Mouthwash, painkillers, and a multivitamin.” I mumble to myself. “What the hell did this paindne use to wash their fur?”

  “Maybe check in the tub?” Euro suggests.

  I shake my head. They shoot me a confused look, and I’m reminded that they don’t know I have an awareness. “Already checked. Nothing in there but a tiny drain.”

  “Really? Huh. There should definitely be some kind of cleaner in there. Let me check, just in case you didn’t know where to look.” Euro carefully steps in, gives me as wide a berth as possible, and leans over the tub. “Oh. Well, it looks like you’re right. Maybe that’s something you should ask the construct?”

  I summon my Class Card with a nod and type out a simple question; ‘do you have any shampoo’. It doesn’t seem like it’ll be important, but I’m not ready to rule anything out just yet. Even if we just get the same negative response as before, it at least tells us that we don’t have to worry about it.

  A bolt of magic careens through the wall in a straight line to the construct. Jumble yelps in surprise at the exact same time, and before the response appears in my messenger, she runs up and places herself in the doorway. I shoot her a withering glare. She blushes and looks away in shame.

  (Question Recognized)

  I ran out yesterday.

  The jar is there on the sink with the other two.