Indecisive Meatloaf

[Clownpiece]

To Sonny, it often seemed that no matter where he went, civilization was never a long way off. It’d been like so for nearly a millennium now, and even here it was no different. Stretching in front of the sun spirit were vast plains vaguely reminiscent of what most other civilizations built on. Gentle winds, born of the calm, bright day, rustled the native flora of the flatlands surrounding him, calmly waving off into the distance until the movement faded from view. Lying well beyond that, sat a mountain range, giving the impression of being deceptively close. The sun spirit knew better, however. Such a landmark could easily be weeks away, since something as tall as a mountain could be seen from absurd distances.

Nestled on and around one of the mountains in the range was an absolute beast of a city. Surrounded by walls of a nature Sonny hadn’t seen for centuries, it gave off the impression of being some sort of stronghold or capital. If this indeed was some sort of outdated kingdom, then he could assume that the off-color greenery surrounding that fortification was farmland. You needed to feed the scores of people under your rule somehow, after all.

“Hey, did we travel back in time or something?” The sun spirit’s voice spoke for him, hijacked by his other half. “First that Temple of Diana, now we’ve got fucking Neuschwanstein over there.”

“We did meet a guy with a motorbike and a soldier with a power suit,” Sonny responded, deliberately ignoring Somerled’s incorrect statements. “And those other soldiers with their weird-ass guns. Hence our lack of eye.”

“It’s an eye, it’ll grow back,” dismissed the storm spirit. Sonny was certain that if he had a body, he’d be waving it off and walking into the distance.

“Yes, but having a literal hole seared through our fucking skull is a bit on the suspicious side, don’t you think?” He punctuated his point further by tapping the inside of the wound.

“Just wear an eyepatch,” his other half suggested like it hadn’t occurred to him.

“Thanks but no.” Sonny responded, disfigured hand grabbing hold of his left sleeve and tearing it off. He stretched the fabric across his face, covering both the missing eye and the gaping wound in the center of his forehead. No matter how much he fiddled and twisted the cloth, however, the broken, numb fingers of his hand were unable to tie a knot. Each time he released the make-shift bandage, expecting it to stay in place, it just slid off, untethered. Every failure was punctuated by a giggle from his other half, which developed into a full-blown cackle at the sun spirit’s expense after the seventh attempt.

His chest heaving with laughter that wasn’t his own, Sonny’s task was only made more difficult. Annoyingly, he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at his other half’s wordless mocking, and if his voice wasn’t already being used, he too would have found himself giggling a bit. His hands fell back down to the horse’s reigns, as he gave up on that fruitless endeavour, and he waited for Somerled’s laugh to die down. He’d just have to summon a new outfit, one that could cover the wounds, and hopefully would blend in with the local populace.

Finding one that matched, of course, would be purely a guessing game without any citizens to base it off of. As it stood, if he wanted a disguise to blend into the populace with, then he’d need to get into a range where said disguise was necessary. It was a real catch twenty two here. Humans and their fickle sense of fashion...

“Just summon up some medieval french peasant-wear or something.” The storm spirit suggested, his giggling having long since faded away. “Or whenever the fuck time period that goddamn war was in. It worked well for us. Only got burned at the cross twice. Point is, even if that city is miraculously twentieth century, we’ll look homeless, not out of place.”

“The fact that we’re Japanese and not French might tip a few people off.”

“Also the fact that said Japanese-French peasant has a Celtic name and is riding a horse is gonna raise some eyebrows, but I don’t see you complaining about that.” Somerled accused.

“Hey, you picked the name!” Sonny retorted. If his other half had been corporeal, he was sure he would have been pointing fingers.

“No, we picked the name. I kept it,” the storm spirit pointed out.

“Kept it well beyond the point where it’s useful! It’s not the twelfth century anymore!” The sun spirit’s voice was somewhere between a normal tone and a shout.

“Just summon a fucking outfit already you indecisive meatloaf!” His other half all but yelled, growing tired of Sonny’s accusations. The spirit in question mumbled something about hitting a button and formed an iridescent orb of omnilium to mold a new outfit out of.

Being of a rather ragged make, the clothing he summoned took much less time than it would have otherwise. Soon, Sonny was wearing a white woolen undershirt beneath a brown leather doublet, with similarly colored long woolen trousers. His modern black loafers were replaced with simple hide boots, and he now had a large, green wool mantle draped across his shoulders, complete with hood and all. Of course, without a bandage or something to cover the gaping holes in his head, that would do precisely no good in keeping him out of public suspicion.

That would just have to do for now, however. With that in mind, he kicked a heel into the beast below him, pulling the reins to direct it towards the city looming in the distance. The soft sounds of hooves pushing off dirt drifted lazily to the sun spirit’s ears, faintly audible over the whispers of the gentle breeze stirring the grasses. Heat from the midday sun bore down on him. If he moved quickly, he should be able to reach the walls before dusk.

[Clownpiece]

Shadows slid along the buildings of the city, casting navy tints along the white stone establishments. The sun had just dipped behind the walls encircling the area, leaving nothing but the sporadic braziers strategically placed about to illuminate the streets. Any pretenses Sonny had of blending in with civilization had been thrown to the wind when the orange disk had disappeared beneath the horizon. As it turned out, feigning normalcy became awfully difficult if your entire being tended to radiate a light glow.

Though it didn’t outstrip the light of the fiery receptacles strewn about, his bodily glow chased away some of the fainter shadows near him, and turned more than a few eyes. For a few moments, he entertained the thought of retreating into a back alley and allowing his other half to take over. The storm spirit would be much more inconspicuous, unless he were to start being himself. Of course, he couldn’t trust Somerled to not be himself, and thus that thought was waved away quite quickly. Without being physically there to rein him in, the odds of the monster doing something to fuck up were just far too great.

The sun spirit pulled the hood of the cloak tighter over his head, keeping down and hoping a lynch mob wasn’t forming in his blind spots. It was far too soon for that. Things needed to be done, leads needed to be investigated. Of course, maybe they were just gawking at him and he was being overly paranoid. Either way, he wanted out of the public’s scrutinous gaze until morning, when his glowing wouldn’t be noticed. He continued down the streets, rhythmic footsteps mingling with the rest of the populace’s, and he kept an eye out for an inn.

---

Straw crunched and crackled beneath the sun spirit, crushed under him as he planted himself onto the cheap bed. He stared straight ahead, eye unfocused, almost gazing through the undecorated wooden walls in front of him. It had been, for the most part, and easy room to buy out for the night. As it turns out, most people don’t want to spend too long haggling with a glowing, wounded monstrosity who you could literally see through at the right angle.

Of course, afraid that he was in trouble with the law or some such shit, they had refused to give him anything but the cheapest room they could. Sonny didn’t particularly mind that, and had agreed just about immediately. It’s not like he would wake up sore in the morning, or at least, he wouldn’t be able to feel it. Such a rapid agreement likely did nothing to assuage their worries, however.

“Tomorrow,” Sonny said quietly, careful not to be overheard through what he could only assume were thin walls. “We start asking very pointed questions. I’m sure someone will direct us somewhere with some well-aimed prodding.” He shrugged the cloak off his shoulders, straw cracking as he laid down on it. “And this might sound like a bad idea. But perhaps we could check for Council presence.” As he pulled the cloak over him like a makeshift blanket, he expected his other half to protest loudly and suddenly. That never came, though, leaving Sonny to continue on with what he was saying. “I could just summon up a blackbox and try to call. They might have a building somewhere around here. Just a thought though. We’ll see if any leads turn up first.” With that suggestion up in the air, he closed his eye and began to wait for the morning.

---

As his mind slowly came to, shaking off the groggy grasp of sleep, Sonny became faintly aware of something just a bit off. A small temperature presence, just barely below that of his body’s. His eye creaked open, he had a cloak, so he shouldn’t be feeling whatever temperature shift he was feeling. Through his waking haze, his eyes fell on a very pale figure sitting further down the bed, right where his legs should be.

“Good morning!” The specter greeted in a language he hadn’t heard since he got here, voice almost sarcastically cheery given the neutral expression on her face.

“What?” Sonny responded, still obviously tired and not waking up any time soon. His vision was beginning to clear up, revealing the features of who was sitting on his legs in more detail. Resting on his knees, still in her all-too-familiar silver dress, was none other than the spirit of the mist, Kasumi. The sun spirit’s mind shut down for a few seconds as he tried to process why exactly she was there.

“Where’s Somerled?” She switched from Japanese into English, in an effortless gesture that only gave Sonny even more questions. “Woah! I don’t remember being able to talk like that!” A bright grin spread across her face, and the sun spirit’s question list continued to grow.

“Here!” Somerled interjected, borrowing his other half’s voice for a moment, much to his chagrin. Kasumi’s smile fell away just about instantly, replaced by a look of ‘are you fucking kidding me.’

“You know who I meant, Sonny.” Extra emphasis was placed on his name.

“Not a joke, we got a weird pseudo-merge going on here.” Somerled was still the one speaking, leaving the only other person physically in the room as a bystander. “I’m Somerled, the storm spirit half. I’m trapped in Sonny’s mind on time-out. Hang on a moment...” His other half trailed off, falling silent, and the sun spirit assumed he was going to try something. Sonny’s vision shuddered and blurred, an intense pain erupting in his head. He gritted his teeth, trying his best to keep the pain from showing on his face, but it wasn’t enough to stop a grimace from forming. Kasumi’s own irritated expression faded away, replaced by curiosity.

An amalgamation of various types of precipitation drifted out from Sonny’s body. Rain, snow, hail, and every combination of those swirled about just a few feet away from the sun spirit, coagulating off to the side of the bed, soon solidifying into the familiar figure of his other half, still bearing the wounds he’d received just the day before. Almost immediately, his eye shifted down to one of his hands, which he flopped around experimentally.

“You weren’t kidding about this being light,” the storm spirit said, apparently enraptured by his temporary body. All of his movements paused for a moment, mouth spreading into a mischievous grin. “How did I miss that one! ‘It feels a bit light.’ And it’s literally made out of-” the ending of his sentence cut off abruptly with a powerful gasp of air as Kasumi tackle-hugged him. With almost effortless ease, brought on by both her own monstrous strength and the storm spirit’s near weightless body, she lifted him up over her shoulder, arms wrapped around his torso in a grip that was probably crushing one or two major organs.

“I think this is supposed to be the other way around,” Somerled choked out, unable to muster more due to the small spirit’s death-grip.

“Alright, question time,” Sonny said, interrupting their happy reunion, as he shifted so his feet were hanging off the bed. An interruption which completely failed to stop Kasumi from spinning the monster around. However, despite her complete non-compliance in responding to him, he continued anyway. “How’d you get here? Why are you suddenly fluent in English? What in the fuck?”

“Language!” Somerled barked half-seriously, no longer facing his other half as the small spirit stopped spinning him, eyes narrowing at Sonny.

“Harsh questions,” she said bluntly, a scathing tone to her voice.

“Yeah,” the monster agreed half-heartedly, no longer making any effort to escape Kasumi’s grip.

“Pretend I worded it better.” Sonny responded. It was an honest question, at least in his mind, since they had no idea where she had been, so it stood to reason that she wouldn’t know where they were. Kasumi retained the same, scornful look on her face, as she stared at the sun spirit for a few seconds.

“Don’t know, don’t know, and don’t know,” she answered, very unhelpfully. “I woke up here and I’m as surprised as you at my sudden fluency...” As she trailed off, an arrogant smirk appeared on her face moments later. “Maybe I found a way to become fluent in a few months.”

Sonny hummed, disappearing back into thought. Though the mist spirit’s smug tone irritated him on some level, he didn’t comment on it. There were far too many unexplained circumstances that apparently no one had the answer to. These questions could be investigated when they had the time, however. Right now, they needed to look into the split more. This world had more magically-inclined folks than home, as evidenced by Teucer and his squabble, and Amaterasu herself walking around. It was a very real possibility that they could end the split here in no more than a few centuries.

“Well, might as well get to business.” Sonny said, pushing himself up off the bed and wrapping the cloak back around his shoulders. He stepped to the side, bringing himself in line with Somerled’s slouching head, his body still hanging limply from Kasumi’s grip. A quick rap to the head dissolved his body again, eliciting an indignant exclamation from the small spirit. “It’s too magic intensive to keep his body around,” he explained rather apathetically, and paused for a moment after. It probably wouldn’t help him get on her good side at all, but it was worth an ask. “And would you please tie a bandage around my head?” He took the white length of fabric out of his pocket.

“Do it yourself,” came the completely expected, and rather quick response.

“He tried.” Somerled spoke first, before Sonny could even so much as think about opening his mouth. “I broke our hands. It’s just impossible.” Even in the face of his other half’s words, Kasumi’s scowl didn’t break. Perhaps because she had no way to tell it was Somerled doing the speaking and not Sonny, and there was no way to really prove it in either direction.

“Fine. Give me that,” she broke the thirty second silence rather grumpily, swiping the makeshift bandage out of his hand and jumping up onto the bed behind him. The sun spirit silently thanked his other half. They would be able to get on the road much quicker now.

[Clownpiece]

While the sun hadn’t yet risen above the walls of the city, the light of dawn still illuminated everything brightly, scattered by the clean white stones that made up the buildings. It was more than enough to conceal the sun spirit’s natural glow, and with the bandage now tied firmly around his head thanks to Kasumi’s wondrous ability of fine motor control, he didn’t need to skulk around with his hood up like he was some sort of criminal. Just hiding his light and injuries wouldn’t really prevent him from looking suspicious if he needed to “question” people like he had been intending to do.

That plan had been, both parts fortunately and unfortunately, done away with. Now readily apparent to Sonny was the figure of a giant lump of earth and civilization, floating, of all things, in the distance. He wouldn’t need to make himself out to be a common mugger now. On the other hand...

“You seriously didn’t notice that earlier?” came Kasumi’s accusational voice. “It’s a giant, floating city. How did you not notice it?”

“One can only wonder,” Sonny responded vaguely, staring blankly at the airborne isle. The sheer magical power needed to keep such a thing afloat would be absolutely massive. He wondered how many rather powerful wizards, magicians, or various others needed to work together around the clock just to hold that up. Either that or they had the Philosopher’s Stone locked up somewhere in there. That would definitely do the job, and it was a real possibility they could have gotten a hold of it. He wasn’t quite sure where exactly it ended up when he “disposed” of it.

Of course, that still left the whole issue of how to get up on it. There had to be some way possibly open to the public. People had to get on and off of it somehow, after all. However, just because there was a way, didn’t mean that it would open to the public. He really just had to hope, and ask around. If there wasn’t a public way, he might even have to improvise somehow. Omnilium was still a thing he could use.

“Apparently you can hop on something called a Pegasus and fly on up there.” The small spirit’s voice broke Sonny out of his trance. Had he been plotting longer than he’d expected to?

“Uh...” was the only sound he managed to eke out, quickly followed by a few stutters as he tried and failed to ask her a few question, his gaze turning away from the floating island to meet Kasumi's.

“I asked a guy who was walking past,” she answered, pointing her thumb behind her, towards the flow of people.

“Not that, how did-”

“You were staring.” Knowing what he was going to ask, she cut him off halfway.

“Well, uh...” The sun spirit trailed off, mumbling half to himself, “Pegasus... Things just keep getting weirder...”

“Says the glowing monster.”

“Alright that’s enough let’s get moving,” he responded rather abruptly, turning forward again and setting off with a pace that would be hard for the shorter girl to match. Her little exclamation could easily make his nature public knowledge, which he wanted to avoid. Even last night’s bright shining had been more subtle than that. He hoped it hadn’t been heard by too many people.

“Slow down a bit.” An unexpected whisper came in the form of his own voice, his other half hijacking it to quietly bark an order at Sonny. He cast a glance to his side, eyes falling on the pale figure of the spirit to find that she was keeping up perfectly. That sight spoke for itself, and the sun spirit hoped it would be enough to keep Somerled quiet, at least for now.

---

The sounds of the crowd had now muffled somewhat, the full brunt of the din just around the mouth of the alley Sonny had ducked into. His back was nearly pressed against one wall. Across from him, standing there stoically, was a man in full armor, who the sun spirit assumed was some sort of law enforcement person or guard. Over his armor, he wore a brightly-colored shirt, likely in the colors of the kingdom’s flag. Of course, not having seen the flag yet, he wasn’t quite sure.

“What is it?” The guardsman asked, seemingly confused by this random citizen pulling him aside. Sonny hesitated for a moment, he hadn’t actually thought through how to explain everything. He needed information, but he wasn’t sure how to not be suspicious about it. Especially since he didn’t even know what kingdom he was under right now.

“I’m a bit lost, would you happen to know how I would get to the library from here?” The spirit responded, feigning an embarrassed smile. In a city as big as this one, there had to be a library, if not several. It would at least serve as a good starting point, if nothing else. He would be able to read up on that floating island, see if it really was the hub of magical knowledge he thought it was. If it wasn’t, then it was no big deal. After all, time was on his side. If he needed to spend centuries just locating such a hub, then that was what he would do.

“Ah, that’s an odd request” he shifted on his feet slightly, armor rattling lightly. “Most people who are looking for it already know where it is. There should be some stables further up the road to the north. There, you can rent a Pegasus that can take you up to Dalaran. From there, you’re on your own.”

“That was all,” Sonny said, bowing slightly. “Thank you for your time.”

The guard nodded to him, before turning away and stepping out of the alley, heading back to whatever task it was the sun spirit had pulled him away from. Those directions where quite a revelation. He had to assume that ‘Dalaran’ referred to the island, if Pegasus were the way to get there. But why a library on Dalaran and not here in this city? Any one here would be much closer. The only reason he could see that would make the guard direct him there would be if there’s some special library up there. In a similar vein to how asking for ‘the library’ around Alexandria would get you directed to the Great Library and not Serapeum.

“A library prestigious enough to be known as “The Library” on a magical flying island you can only reach by magical flying horse,” Somerled broke into his train of thought, undoubtedly reaching the same conclusion his other half had. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like it could be what we’re looking for.”

Sonny simply hummed an affirmative, casting his gaze just a bit deeper into the alley, towards where Kasumi had wandered over to. He'd assumed that he would have found her trying to entertain herself somehow, maybe even just moping around bored, but instead, his eyes locked onto hers. Dissatisfied with the lack of bloodshed, that deceptively silver gaze betrayed hints of lost expectations and disappointment. She shouldn't have expected such a thing from him in the first place, however. He was not his other half.

“What’s with that look?” Somerled asked, genuine confusion in his voice. The sun spirit figured that he likely forgot that the small spirit’s glance was directed at him and not the storm spirit.

“That was Somerled, not me.” Sonny tacked on quickly after his other half’s statement. He really needed to find a way to indicate who was the one doing the talking. Which of course meant a completely new thing to try and figure out. The lack of body language associated with the other speaking was a dead giveaway to anyone paying attention, but if they weren’t bothering to keep up...

“What look?” She responded innocently enough to the storm spirit’s question, mouth turning up into a mischievous smile for a fraction of a moment, quickly fading back to a serious look. Sonny turned away, ready to head back out of onto the streets and make for the stables the guard had directed him to. “So... Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Her voice drew closer, stopping the sun spirit in his tracks. As he turned back to face her, he tried to recall whether he’d explained everything already. Maybe he’d overlooked it in the confusion earlier?

“It’s a long and complicated thing,” he began, starting to speak before Somerled could jump in and begin rambling on for years. “Basically, Somerled and I got spirited away to here. ‘Here’ being something called the omniverse. Said abduction did something weird with our already weird split, two bodies became one, our mind is still split. Thus, we’ve actually gotta spend time working out this split so we aren’t stuck like this. Hence why I’m looking for some place where we could find a lot of magical information.”

“I thought that was strictly impossible or something?” She asked, a quizzical look coming across her face. “Which is why Somerled was so hopeful about...” The small spirit trailed off, leaving her unknown thought unfinished.

“About...?” He tried to coax her on, curious about where that sentence would lead.

“Nothing. You always said something about it being badly made and unreadable.” At this point, he couldn’t tell if she deflected his question or was making a rather bad joke. Either way, he couldn’t really press it any more.

“Something like that,” he answered. “The rules here are different though. It won’t hurt to see if we can get any further in fixing this. And it looks like Dalaran could provide that.”

“Alright,” she seemed satisfied with that answer for now. “But you better give me the full version later. We have all the time in the world, after all.”

“Somerled can give you the full rundown later,” he said, turning back towards the street. “For now, let’s get going.”

[homin-Ratione]

“-insa-chan dete industa. Quitte feme espa vise favien.”

“Do, silux.” The voice from the helm went quiet, and the Novan scanned his surroundings. Beneath his heavy boots, small indentations were made in… something green. It grew out of the dirt all over, covering the land seemingly forever. “Do, craegena pet terr lige carte.”

“Trava sprite.” Again in the top right-hand corner of Ratione’s visor a mini-map popped up, now displaying a series of lines extending twenty meters out to denote elevation changes, a single dot in the center.

“Oi!” A voice came from the side, and Ratione turned to see another one of the species he had found dead, except alive. It had a helm, and simple armor with riveted plates, thinner pieces of plate going down its arms connected by small chains. Its legs were straight, and its posture was stiff. Both hands leaned against what Ratione could only assume was some sort of spear. Considering what he had just passed through, was that some kind of gate, and this was a guard?

“You a new prime?” It spoke in an unfamiliar tongue, but the sounds were… familiar.

“Empla sua?” Ratione assumed that since the alien had not reacted to his presence, then perhaps the empire was on this world.

“…..What?” The guard cocked its head to the side, scratching underneath the helm. “You’re gonna have to speak English pal.”

Ratione stepped forward, gesturing to the land beyond the gate. “Pare sote Novan. Qe empla sua?” Had he not been taught at least some of the language? Or perhaps he was simply not fazed by his appearance?

The guard looked out to where Ratione had pointed, nodding. “That’s Camelot pal.” When the suit of armor cocked its head to the side, he repeated the name while sweeping his hand over everything in sight. “Ca-me-lot.”

“…Cae…muh…lotte…” Ratione mulled over the strange name. “Cae-muh-lotte.”

“Close enough.” The guard couched his spear, moving closer and pointing to what appeared to be a fortress city… carved inside a damned mountain.

“Meria…”

“Mi-nas Tir-ith.”

“Mi-naes Ti-rit-eh.” The Novan struggled to make the foreign pronunciations.

“There you go buddy. Not perfect but people will know what you’re talking about.”

“Depla foresste sua?”

“….You know what?” The guard put his hand on Ratione’s back, giving a small pat, unhesitant despite the thick steel plates. “How about you head there. They might be able to sort you out.”

“Qe?”

“There!” The guard pointed again at the massive city, then made a walking gesture by waggling his two fingers. “Minas Tirith! Go there!”

“Depla foresste sua!” The foreigner nodded, seemingly excited.

“Yeah, yeah! Deep-pool-forest-sewer! Go ahead buddy!”

Without a second final word, the hulking suit of armor suddenly took off into the air, threading through the tall stone pillars surrounding the gate and soaring high into the air over the plains. He rocketed in the general direction of the mountain fortress, some several miles away.

“Heh. New primes are about the only thing that make this job fun.” The guard went back to sitting down, putting a kettle helm over his eyes, soon enough emitting a long and loud snore.

---

Novan translations, in order of speaking.
[Unstable changes detected energy. Vacate close space quickly favorable.] "Unstable energy fluctuations detected. It would be favorable to vacate the immediate area."
[Action, silence.] "Command, be silent."
[Action, make small land line map.] "Command, make a topographical mini-map."
[Working mind.] "Thinking." "Processing."
[Location self?] "Where am I?"
[Speak kind Novan. What location?] "Speak the Novan language. Where am I?"
[Move fortress self?] "Should I go to the fortress?" "Do I go to the fortress?" "I go to the fortress?"
[Move fortress self!]  "I go to the fortress!"

[homin-Ratione]

Ratione was becoming more and more uneasy about these people. All of them had faces too much like his own, behaviors too much like his own, speech too much like his own. It was unnerving, to say the least, flying over miles of crops and gardens, farmhouses dotting here and there, workers tending their fields. It looked just like-
 
“Dete entrab industa. Trava sprite… ruer. Dete invaiser. Scruminuex sprite ruer-ay…”
 
Ratione landed for a fifth time, on stop of some dirt road, as the error message was read out, whipping his head all around to figure out what the on board computer could be reading.
 
“Qe-se?” He whispered to himself, “Nuien vuis sua-“
 
The whole suit of armor suddenly halted, visor locked on something that not even an intra-galactic warrior had experienced. A chunk of land had inexplicably been ripped from the ground, and was now hovering over the mountain fortress “Minas Tirith”.
 
“Qe-mothe…?” The island had escaped his vision before by blending in with the rest of the mountain and the fortress, but now the city that sat on top was clear as day. A few field-workers walked around the Novan, more confused by his reaction rather than his presence. One of them muttered something that sounded like annoyance before continuing on.
 
“Sprite ruer nuien. Cinve-admiv invaiser.”
 
“Do… silux…” The Furtumin found it hard to take his eyes away. On top of that, the closer he got to the mountain fortress, the bigger it seemed to get. Looking around it appeared to Ratione that the native species was considerably primitive, so how had they pulled off something like this?
 
After a minute or two of gawking, Ratione shook his head and took off again. However they had managed, it did not matter. The Furtumin needed to make contact if there was a local garrison, which there were no signs of. Not even a fleet in orbit, or a single ship. Perhaps he was on some uncharted planet, with strange glowing gates and floating cities. As he soared through the sky, bounding thirty meters at a time, the old man wondered as to the where the other apparent gates would have lead him.
 

***

 
The star was high in the sky when the Novan eventually found himself standing between two massive gates, the pair of giant wooden doors still dwarfed by colossal white-stone walls. Ratione figured he must have come in to this place known as “Camelot” halfway through the day, and was now yawning inside his helm. It was getting late, and he needed some rest. Hopefully this species had the concept of inns and restaurants.
 
Some guards stood at the gate, checking civilians as they passed through. Some had wagons, others only the clothes on their backs. Ratione was about to move right through, when suddenly several of the small garrison planted themselves right in front of him. Each one had a tall shield and pike, with very ornate, polished, and thick plate armor.
 
“Halt, sir! You need to pass inspection before entering the city!”
 
“Pare sote Novan. Paurette depla sua!” The Furtumin demanded, never breaking stride and forcing his mass straight unto e line. The guards threw up a small shield wall, pikes pointing out at him. The Novan kept walking forward, as if to wade right through, when suddenly the three guards in the middle quickly thrusted forward.
 
“Meria!!” Ratione shouted as suddenly he was thrown back. The spear points connected with his breastplate. The shock went through his torso, through super-condensed steel plates. He took a few steps back, throwing his hands forward, mind racing to figure out as to how at all they had managed to affect him with wooden pikes. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword.
 
“Alright!” A single, taller man stood behind the formation, slipping off his helm. “You’re either going to let us inspect yer gear, or you’re going in the hole. If you continue these hostile actions, you will be engaged. Is that understood?”
 
The Novan cocked his head to the side as this was said, “…Qe…?”
 

***

 
“Sir, I don’t think he speaks common. He didn’t even react to any of our orders.” One of the men in the shield wall spoke up.
 
“That explains it. Hey!” When the armored man did not head his call, the officer stepped forward past the line. “Hey, look at me jackass!” Finally the prime turned its head to him. The guard held his hands up, palms open, the universal signal for “I’m not about to try and kill you”. The prime watched silently as the officer pointed at him, then to the over-sized bastard sword at his hip, then to his own arming sword. The officer undid his belt, sheath with blade coming off, and chucked it to the side. He then pointed at the prime and to his blade a second time.
 
A full three minutes went by, and everything was eerily still. Not even the line at the front gate continued moving through, everyone in the immediate vicinity watching and waiting. Despite the gathering crowd and the obvious hostility, the prime never reacted or moved, simply keeping an even gaze with the officer.
 
“Take. Your. Sword. Off.” The man spoke slowly, miming the same motion of removing his belt. While everyone else around was tense, the officer seemed strangely relaxed.
 

***

 
Ratione understood perfectly what they were demanding, but was reluctant to comply. He was currently ready to give all of the guards a crash course on Furtumin training, but a new part of him spoke against this built-in reaction. Somehow, with primitive weapons, they had managed to keep him at bay. The old man could still feel the pressure against his chest, left palm pressing against the plate.
 
The Novan reached to his belt’s center buckle, disengaging the lock. Two solid pieces of curved steel hooked together at the back by a swivel slammed to the ground along with a twenty pound blade and its sheath. The whole piece did not even bounce as it slammed into the road, a loud thunk echoing throughout the street. The civilians let out small gasps, and the guards’ jaws dropped slightly. Two of them broke from the shield wall and eased their way over to the Novan, who remained still as he watched them. Both grunted and had to exhale with each pull as they dragged away the belt and sheath. They had managed to push him back, but they did not seem to possess any sort of immense strength. After so easily handling the weight of his armor, Ratione expected just a single one of them to heft the belt without an issue.
 
“Alright, now that you’ve decided to listen, we’re going to take you in. We’ll treat you nice, so don’t try to hurt anyone.” The man that took off his helm walked closer now, standing at arm’s length away. He extended his arm forward, hand open. “We have a deal, prime?” Ratione’s right hand moved forward instinctively, massive armored palm and fingers clasping the guard’s forearm, making a point to be gentle. However this elicited a jolt from the guard, at first his seemingly ready to bolt. The shield wall tightened and the civilians took a step back, and the old man felt slightly awkward as he observed this reaction.
 
“…….”
 
“…….Ye…Ye-ah?”
 
It took a small moment before the guard realized the Novan was returning his gesture, thick and calloused fingers barely gripping the steel plate. Ratione pulled his hand back, and the man turned to address the others. At the utterance of the confirmation, his eyes widened for a split second. Ratione’s own were the size of dinner plates.
 
“It’s alright, just a new prime. Can’t speak common and doesn’t know how we do things ‘round here. Go back to your business!” The guard addressed the crowd, and after whatever command was issued it quickly dispersed. It seemed the buildings themselves exhaled.
 
Ratione watched as the clearing around him suddenly became much denser, then as the guard that took off its helm suddenly claspped a pair of cuffs on his wrists. The Novan lacked a reaction to this, still in a daze at his brief use of the foreign tongue. He threaded through the crowd as he was lead by the guards, mindful not to step on anyone’s feet. The drone of chatter and other noises of the city enveloped the Novan’s ears. He started thinking about… about how they were talking about him…
 

***

 
“So he can barely speak common, he’s new here, and he likely has no idea what’s going on.”
 
“Sir when he was speaking, we heard something that sounded like a name, “Novan”.”
 
“What makes you think that’s a name of anything?”
 
“Human. Roman. Gondorian. Elven. Dwarven.”
 
“I see your point. So then he’s either from somewhere named “Nov” or “Nova”, or something like that.”
 
“The language he’s speaking too, it’s…”
 
“Familiar. I know.”
 
“But this guy doesn’t look like he would know any human languages at all.”
 
“No, that’s the thing though, every other prime we’ve encountered could immediately understand us and be understood.” The officer turned back, making what he hoped was eye contact with the new prime. Its gaze was right on him, emotionless behind the glass visor. The old man gave him a steely glare before turning back. “I think it’s starting to come to him, though. If it is a “him”.”
 
“Sir, I think we might need to lock him up for now. Maybe a night in a cell will help him learn the status-quo.”
 
“Good thinking. First, though,” The officer looked back to the now three men that had the prime’s belt and sheath slung across their shoulders. “Let’s find somewhere to put that gear. He’s got some of that fancy power-armor some other primes come with. Pretty sure we could take him anyways, but I wanna be confident that he can’t do a thing.”
 
“Yessir.”

---

Translations in order of speaking:

[Detected unusual energy. Working mind… error. Detected impossibility. Searching mind errors…] "Unusual energy readings detected. Processing... Detected impossibility. Searching for bugs..."
[What-meaning?] "What do you mean?"
[Nothing vision self-] "I see nothing-"
[What-process…?] "How...?" (combination of "what" and "process/method" rather than single word for "how")
[Mind errors none. Not-acknowledging impossibility.] "Could not find any bugs. Refusing to process impossibility." (Cinve/cinv being a prefix to create the opposite of a word's original meaning.)
[Action, silence.] "Command, be silent."
[Speak kind Novan. Allow move self!] "Speak Novan. Let me through!"