The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

Inner Sanctum | 3:51 PM | Second Day

Gods, I really did hate things like this.

For a little bit, we were stuck in a strange limbo where there was no one actually observing, but because that could change very quickly, we couldn't talk or relax either. So (with the sole exception of Fang, who kept working as if nothing was going on) we just sat there, all prim and proper, in rigid silence.

But then, first only as a trickle but then quickly in large numbers, people began to pour in, appearing in the facade of the stands. Despite their veils, I saw the headmaster, the class coordinator, and others I vaguely recognized from the university, but also countless people I didn't; academics from associated universities, independent researchers, journalists, government figures. There had to be lesser members of the order observing, too, even if I had no way to recognize them.

Well, if that was even possible. The artificial environment only depicted a fraction of the people observing, who'd actively chosen to have avatars. The rest I was only made aware of by a growing number the logic bridge communicated to me.

In the end, that number was somewhere in the range of 2000. Big - easily tenfold the size of the crowd we'd faced down the previous morning - but not as big as I'd originally expected. At least a third the planned audience must have dropped out because of what had happened, and if I had to guess, more still were less attentive than they'd have been otherwise.

It didn't do much to make me feel better about it. This was, after all, a minor historical event. Anything which happened would carry considerably farther than the people just watching right now.

Once some threshold had been passed, Hamilcar indicated his head to the other council members, who nodded in turn. Then, he spoke to Aruru, who was now the only person - well, 'person' - still standing.

"We shall now begin," he instructed her.

"Very well," she said instantly, bowing her head. "As the overseeing secretary, I declare that this, the 708th Conclave of the Universal Panacea, shall now commence. May a great exchange of knowledge take place today. Let us be the last."

"Let us be the last," the council members repeated. It would've been creepier if they didn't all sound so bored.

"The subject of today's conclave is: An introduction of the members of the Exemplary Acolyte's Class of the Old Yru Academy of Medicine and Healing to the assembled members of the order, along with a series of presentations displaying their achievements of innovation. I shall state the planned agenda for the meeting," it continued. "Firstly, there shall be an opening statement by companion-legionary Amtu-Heddu-Anna. Then, there shall be a class introduction by Kamrusepa of Tuon. Then, there shall be a presentation by..."

Oh, gods, I thought, trying not to yawn. Is it really going to go through them one by one?

...there shall be a presentation by Utsushikome of Fusai. Finally, there shall be a closing statement by companion-legionary Linos of Melanthos. This concludes the agenda." The golem lowered its head once again. "The estimated length of the conclave is 3 hours and 20 minutes. I shall now yield the floor to Amtu-Heddu-Anna."

It stood aside a little, and Anna rose from her seat.

She cleared her throat, then spoke in a somewhat more formal and less irritated-sounding tone. "This is the first time that outsiders have been invited to participate in our conclave," she said, in a tone that made it obvious this was unscripted. "It is a tremendous break with precedent. I hope for everyone's sake it was a good idea."

After this, she sat back down.

Oh my god, I thought. Did she forget her notes, or was that just it? Is she going senile? There are thousands of people watching!

I heard Kamrusepa softly click her tongue from down below. Linos coughed awkwardly, looking at some papers.

I glanced up at the audience, expecting to see them put off or concerned, but to my surprise, that didn't seem to be the case at all outside of a handful of individuals. On the contrary, a number of them looked enraptured, like they were watching a magic show play out.

I blinked. Maybe the order had so much mystique at this point that they literally couldn't do anything to put people off. That anything odd would be dismissed as just part of the exotic thrill of seeing behind the curtain.

After a few moments passed and it seemed cemented that that was it, Aruru spoke up once again. "Thank you, companion-legionary Amtu-Heddu-Anna, for delivering the opening speech," it said. One advantage that golems had over human beings was that they had absolutely no capability for irony. "The floor shall now be yielded to Kamrusepa of Tuon for her introductory speech on behalf of her class."

At that, Kamrusepa rose up with a smooth bow and ultra-professional smile, a wave of warm normality determined to obliterate any awkwardness of the prior moment with the strength of a sledgehammer. "Thank you, secretary," she said, with impressive earnestness considering she was talking to a glorified teapot that wasn't even half way to being sentient. "And thank you to everyone who has helped make this event possible. To the esteemed elders of the Order of the Universal Panacea who extended the invitation, to the headmaster and staff of the Old Yru Academy of Medicine and Healing who created our group and diligently guide us in our studies, and to all others who are in attendance on this day. I speak for all of my class when I say that we are incredibly honored by your faith in us in affording us this truly historic opportunity. It is our sincerest hope that we will serve well as ambassadors to this most noble of organizations."

I felt my eyes slowly start to glaze over. Truly, Kamrusepa was powerful.

"When I was thirteen years old, I came down with the Umbrican Flu..."

Oh gods, this again.

"...and because this was before a treatment had been devised, I was left bedridden for several consecutive weeks. Naturally, I'd been ill and seen others suffer more serious illness prior to that point in my life, but it was the first time I felt viscerally aware of my own mortality. Some days, my body was so weak that I could barely move, let alone eat, and it began to occur to me how mundane a thing it would be for it to simply sputter out, and for me to simply sputter out with it. That the law of nature is not one that guarantees a long, fulfilling existence, but one in which there is no justice; where everything can be taken from you in an instant."

"And the more my thoughts lingered on that, the more the way I saw the world began to change," she continued. "I saw how different the stories I had been told of death, the idealized depictions of people going gracefully into the light, were from what existed in reality; the agony I witnessed on people's faces as they saw their loved ones slip away, their happy lives together cut short in service of no gain. The resigned sorrow of the dying, forced to accept that whatever dreams they still held within their hearts were doomed to expire unfulfilled. But most of all, the indignity of it all - the drawn-out nature of illness, of slow physical and mental degeneration that stripped people of their humanity, piece by piece, in a manner that was the antithesis of grace."

"I saw those tragedies every day, once I began to look for them," she said. She was probably going overboard again with all this, but I really could hear the passion in her voice, the depth to which she, at least, genuinely believed in this one thing. "Playing out again and again, everyone forced at gunpoint by their own biology to accept the abominable as natural. And I started to wonder: Was this truly the only way that things could be?"

The lamplight was in my eyes when it happened, the heat making the front of my veil feel hot when it pushed against the face. It was a shot from a conventional rifle. Old but not too old, probably from the early stages of the Great Interplanar War. It snapped, sharper and higher than thunder, and the horse leading the carriage in front of us reared up and neighed loudly.

No, was that really true? It didn't make sense; the horses that pulled carriages nowadays were changed so much by Biomancy that they were closer to machines in their discipline and speed. They didn't get scared by loud sounds, and would never try to stop and run off. Was I getting it mixed up with another memory? It felt so long ago.

Someone shoved me hard in the panic. I remember that for sure. A tall man in a bright golden coat. It's easy to forget being skinny and weak until you're suddenly in a physical situation with someone who is the opposite. His bones felt like a wall, and my whole body rattled. My grandfather's grip on my hand, which had been so firm a moment ago, suddenly slipped.

I turned to him, and saw his face. His open mouth, and his wide, murky eyes, so filled with wild, animal uncertainty. Like something was happening that he couldn't even begin to comprehend.

...no, let me rephrase that. An animal is the wrong comparison. Rather, he looked like a child. Like a very young child, who was desperately lost.

It was a gaze which screamed one thing: Help me.

This'll sound superstitious, I know. Obviously, I'm aware on a conscious level that there's no such thing as supernatural phenomena, and that all accounts of it are generally the product of people experiencing strange stimuli for a brief enough time that they're not able to process, then their memories filling in impossible details later when trying to reconcile it into a coherent narrative. I don't even believe in abstract 'forces' in the way Theo described when the topic had been raised earlier. All phenomena can be explained scientifically.

...so, I know there's no angel of death that goes around in a black cloak, visiting people when they die. That's what I'm saying.

But at that time, I could've sworn that there was someone else there, in that moment. Or perhaps 'someone' isn't the right way to put it. There was something there. An entity, a... Pressure, that I could feel was there, and perhaps glimpsed in the corner of my line of sight. Something stark white and heavy, with an inhuman shape... Like a spider, maybe. But broader, stretched out.

And I could have sworn it was reaching for him. Pulling him towards the ground.

And when I brushed against it, in that moment... I felt it pull something away from me, too. The version of myself that had seen the world in terms of love and stories. That had believed so absolutely in a narrative for myself, a predestination towards a happy end, that it had driven me to act with what can only be called selfish madness. It all vanished at once, like water sucked violently from a bathtub with the pulling of the plug. Leaving only a cavity.

It has to all be post-hoc, of course. There's no way I could have so many complicated feelings and thoughts in a single moment-- The mind just doesn't work like that.

Still, when I think back on it, I can't escape that feeling. Both of loss, and coming into contact with something alien.

"It is for that reason that I am, and have always been inspired by the cause of the order, who have aspired to set right that wrong even while the rest of our culture sleepwalked in numb acceptance for generations," Kamrusepa continued. "Even as it endangered their own careers and lives. And why I hope this event becomes more than simply a chance for us to demonstrate our talents, but instead serves as a bridge to bring their work and cause to the academic community at large. And that we may usher in a new age of longevity scholarship, which will see human life and healthspan extended to a degree it has never been before. To that end, I humbly hope that we are able to repay the trust they have invested in us this day, and that we, too, show the same passion they have come to embody. Thank you."

She sat back down, and this time, people broke into applause, both among the inner circle (Anna excepted) and the audience. A few of our class clapped, too; myself included, because I was easily peer pressured.

The response seemed less ambiguous then it had during her speech yesterday morning. Maybe the only people who'd bother watching this were already mostly believers. Or maybe selling people on trying to defeat death was a lot easier when you spoke from the heart instead of wrapping it up in ideology.

"Thank you, class representative Kamrusepa of Tuon," Aruru said. "We shall now commence with the presentations. Ophelia of the Glass Fields, please step forward."

Well, here we go.

Ophelia stood up, her posture betraying only a little nervousness, and stepped down from the stands. She collected her box, then moved to stand before the council members. A little wooden bench, separate from the round table, had been set up there for our use. She placed the object - delicately - upon it.

"Um, good afternoon..." she said, bowing her head. "Thank you for the invitation. My presentation shall be on the topic of temporary organ substitutes for crisis and battlefield situations... It's not exactly to do with living longer, but I believe it could save lives, so I hope you will find it suitable."

"Go ahead, Ophelia," Linos said, encouragingly. Durvasa watched intently, his hands clasped together, while Zeno seemed only partially engaged, already looking bored.

She nodded, and softly cleared her throat. "Obviously, substitutes for organs that can be quickly installed have been developed by alienist Biomancers for hundreds of years now, since the creation of the external lung by Sagara of Nholato... And they've been iterated upon to become more sophisticated and long-lasting, and there have been attempts at auto-sterilizing models, meaning they can be installed on-site during an incident... However, they still require an incision to be made, making them unable to be employed by laymen. And as a result, certain types of damage to critical organs often lead to fatalities before medical aid can even arrive, especially in rural areas..."

"Ugh, damn it," Fang muttered to themselves as they fussed over something in their bag. It was quiet, but still easily audible across the room... Which meant the people watching could hear it, too. A few even seemed to be looking...

And a few seemed to have noticed me looking. Fuck, this sort of thing was uncomfortable.

Durvasa and Anna also gave them displeased looks, but Fang didn't seem to notice.

"So," Ophelia continued. "I've been experimenting to try and create a method which is entirely autonomous as an ongoing project... Using some principles from Zoomancy in the process. I will now begin a demonstration." She hesitated. "Um-- Actually, do you happen to have a table cloth? Or some papyrus sheets...?"

Some of the council looked wary. "...Aruru, please set down a sheet on the demonstration table," Hamilcar instructed, after a moment.

"As you wish," it said. It stepped over to a cabinet by the window, retrieved a white sheet of fabric, then placed it over the table, Ophelia lifting up the box as she did so.

Then, she opened the box.

At first, nothing happened. But after waiting a few moments, she took out a pouch filled with brown, grainy-substance - sugar? Rock salt? Even after taking off my glasses, it was too distant to even see the consistency - and sprinkled a small amount of it in front of the opening.

And slowly, something began to crawl out.

It was hard to describe exactly looked like. Something between a slug and and a sea sponge, but with two harder appendages that looked like the fins of a small fish. It was a ugly, brown-blue color, and seemed to have no visible sensory organs. No eyes, no mouth... If it hadn't been moving, I might've mistaken it for a strange looking rock.

But it did move. It pulled itself forward across the cloth, leaving a slightly damp trail in its wake, until it reached the powder, or whatever it was. I couldn't exactly see what happened next, but a membrane from its underside unfolded, like a tongue, and pressed against the substance, sucking it up. It seemed to struggle with the process, its whole body tensing and oscillating repeatedly.

Everyone stared at the bizarre sight, transfixed.

"This is a familiar I created using the Flesh-Weaving Arcana, taking anima script from a variety of sources... Primarily the human body, and the helobdella modesta, which served as its base. My working term for it is a Proxia - um, from the word 'proxy'." (Familiar, in case its not self-evident, was the biological version of 'artifice'; that is, an animal created by the Power.) "It's a lifeform designed to be able to mimic the functions of a human organ. In this case, a liver. It's also able to sustain itself with minimal human intervention, so it's easy to keep around... Though, I'm still ironing parts of that out. At the moment, it only has a quasi-functional digestive system, so it can only really consume glucose in its raw form. Other nutrients have to be injected directly, but that's, ah, a problem I've made a lot of progress on, which you'll see in the documentation."

The other shoe seeming to drop in her head as she said this, she made a little 'ah' sound, and then passed Aruru a bundle of handouts for the council members. It moved around the table, distributing them to each.

"Um, of course, such things have been done before... Living organ substitutes, with a system of self-maintenance that allows for non-specialized storage. Yuan Ren's work, for example..." She coughed a little, raising a hand to cover her mouth. "However, that's not the focus of this project, but as I explained, autonomy. I set out to create a familiar that could not only connect itself to act as a substitute organ, but that was able to do so without the oversight or assessment of a professional. I'll demonstrate."

Then Ophelia started taking off her clothes.

...okay, okay. Don't get too excited. She didn't take off very much. She removed her shawl, then hefted up her tunic so that the side of her chest, just below her ribcage, was visible.

There were some pretty evident traces of scarring in the area which cosmetic biomancy obviously hadn't been able to completely remove. No one said anything, of course, and fortunately, it didn't seem like the observers could tell.

"Because of some events in my background... I use a mechanically artificed liver - derived from some of your own work, I believe, master Kane." Hamilcar gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "As an arcanist, I'm able to easily disable it at any time. This makes me a good subject for this." She pointed again to the familar. "I've designed the Proxia to, when touched, being able to chemically diagnose if there is a serious flaw in the function of the organ it corresponds to, then to intervene if needed. Ah, here, let me show you..."

She touched the creature in the form of an affectionate pat. It didn't even seem to notice, still preoccupied with slowly consuming the glucose powder.

"Um, now, I'll disable my liver... Please hold on," she said, ticking a box for sentences I never expected to hear in my life.

Is this safe, so soon after this morning?

She drew her scepter. She was a Biomancer educated in Palaat, and so, like Durvasa's, it was wooden and crowned with a lotus. Though her's had one less layer of petals, indicating her lower ranking, and was also adorned with a butterfly at the center. I'd never been sure why that was - I didn't think it was part of the official symbology.

She pointed the scepter at herself, then spoke a simple incantation to disable the artificed organ. Of course, nothing visibly happened in response. Unlike lungs or heart, a body could go hours before liver failure became obvious, with it only becoming apparent when digestion started to fail.

"That should be long enough," she said, and reached to touch the familiar for a second time. This time, after a few moments, it perked up.

Then, slowly, it made its way towards the edge of the table. Ophelia angled herself against it, and the creature awkwardly slid up against her flesh, climbing. It came to roughly the location of her liver, then extended a tendril, and--

--and stabbed deep into her flesh with surprising force. She winced a little, closing her eyes, but displayed far less of a visible reaction than I'd expect someone to for what had to have been considerably painful. Several similar tendrils followed, worming around awkwardly under her skin. Blood started to trickle down, which she stopped with a handkerchief.

Neferuaten raised a hand to her mouth with concern. "Ophelia... That might be going a little beyond what's necessary--"

Zeno raised a hand, cutting her off. He was staring intently, seeming absolutely captivated by the scene unfolding before his eyes. (I wanted to believe this was for wholesome reasons like professional curiosity, and not... Other ones.)

"It's alright," she said. "I've practiced this many times now. It's perfectly safe."

I heard Mehit make a whimpering sound. Looking over, I could see that Ptolema was making a goofily distressed face, showing her teeth.

The thing writhed and wriggled a little more, making strange squishing and pumping sounds in the process. Then, finally, it seemed to settle. I could see that blood and other fluid was now being being pumped through, its body moving in accord with her own.

It was interesting how Ophelia was, in a way, both the opposite of and exactly what one expected. My natural cynicism might've made me doubt her saccharine sweet and gentle persona, but I had to admit, I'd never really seen many cracks to it-- Though I was sure that she played up her innocence at times, she truly did act with a kindness and patience towards others that was incredibly rare. One of the reasons she hadn't climbed higher in the ranks of the class despite being extremely talented was that she volunteered to help every student in the academy who asked her. On top of that, she did volunteer work as a medic. I'd even see her take injured animals home to nurse them back to health, like some fucking fairy tale protagonist.

But when it came to her specialization and the actual work she produced, she had an alarming affinity for and comfort with the grotesque. What we were seeing play out here wasn't even that far from average. And she didn't seem to mind pain, or using her own body as a test bed. Despite having generally poor health, and often terrible luck with that health, as you've seen multiple times already.

The word that often came to mind when thinking of her was 'martyr'. Which I didn't know if I had a basis for, because it didn't seem like she didn't value her own life. She ate healthily, and though she seemed self-conscious, never came across as outright self-loathing...

Maybe it would've all made more sense if I'd known her background. But she wasn't a very open person. I knew she'd been born on the Diakos and then had migrated to the Mimikos as a teenager, but that was about it. As it was, I didn't know how to interpret her personality.

"Um, the Proxia has now made a connection to my bile duct, hepatic artery, and portal vein, usurping the functions of the liver from my implant... Based on my most recent tests, it should remain stable for at least 24 hours, giving more than enough time for organ repair or permanent replacement to take place. ...I'd thought about leaving it in place for the rest of the event to illustrate this, but it will actually make it difficult to put my robes back in place, so, I'm going to remove it now."

She physically tugged at it, causing the process to reverse, and then halted the bleeding using the Power. She then restarted her artificed organ, and - after leaving a little more glucose behind, presumably as a treat for a job well done - placed the now somewhat bloody familiar back in its box. Cage? Cage.

I breathed a small sigh of relief now that it was gone. Obviously this wasn't the most pressing concern for something with a utility like that, but in addition to being disgusting, it had also kind of stunk. We are talking about a liver replacement, here.

"This concludes my presentation," Ophelia said, lowering her head. "Thank you."

The council applauded, even Anna, despite being the most visibly disgusted. We followed in turn, along with the crowd at large a few moments later.

...actually, it was a little off how long it took them to react. Maybe there was something slowing down the transmission.

"That was fascinating," Zeno said, now far more animated than previously. "I'm incredibly impressed that you managed to make it work."

"T-Thank you, sir." I could hear the smile on her face.

Durvasa nodded along. "An innovative concept, and a great display of technical skill in the art. Though, I find myself somewhat skeptical that it could ever be realistically mass-produced and implemented as a serious crisis response tool, even if it could achieve a near-perfect success rate. The degree of hassle for maintenance and the unhygenic nature of it would deter many, and at a time where swift organ repair and medical response speeds are both improving rapidly."

"Still, Durvasa," Zeno implored. "The potential of the concept! Fully detachable organs, able to subsist as living creatures in their own right! Hamilcar-- I know you despise things of flesh and blood, but this is of interest to you, too, surely."

"It is intriguing," he conceded. "It is obvious that you have a great deal of talent, acolyte. How long have you been pursuing this research?"

"Um, about a year and a half, sir... Since soon after joining the class. Though, this is the first time it's been functional enough for a proper demonstration."

"Still, that's an impressive timescale for something this ambitious," he replied. "Though, I understand that much of your work revolves around creating symbiotic life for the purpose of healing."

She nodded. "That's correct. Though most aren't this, um... Meat-y."

"You said the template for the familiar was the helobdella modesta," Neferuaten chimed in. "A leech."

"Yes, that's correct. I sought to capitalize on their pre-existing instincts to seek out veins and areas rich with blood to allow them to easily connect with the correct arteries. It was more difficult than I'd thought, but I did get there, after consulting some neuromancers."

"Mmhmm," she said, jotting something down on a piece of paper in front of her. "And have you tested it on people other than yourself?"

"A few, ma'am," she said meekly. "But only on individuals who also have artificial livers like my own; it hasn't felt appropriate to use on live patients. I'll admit that there are still significant obstacles in making it able to adjust to patients with differing body types and organ makeup without getting confused, so this is mainly a, ah, proof of concept... But still-- I really do believe there are people it could help!"

Neferuaten smiled gently. "Well, you're certainly not wanting for passion. That alone is a virtue."

"Have you made any other prototypes for other organs?" Zeno asked, his hands clapsed tightly together as he leaned his head forward.

"Yes," she said, with a small nod. "A lung, though its much less sophisticated right now... I haven't even been able to make a complete connection with an anatomy doll, yet. Though, the lower weight means that it's been easier to develop the metabolism and feeding process. I've written all about it in the handout, if you want to know more."

"I shall definitely have to review it later," he said. "For now, though, well done."

"Yes," Durvasa echoed. "Very well done."

"Did you have a question for young Ophelia, your ladyship?" Neferuaten asked Anna, a note of playfulness in her tone. "You've been staring rather intently."

The older women glanced at her with narrowed eyes for a moment, then grunted. "Rather than questions, I am simply baffled why someone would choose a project direction so disgusting when there exist so many alternatives. ...but it is as Durvasa says. It is nothing if not technically competent. So I shall keep my opinions to myself."

"I think it was very good, too, Ophelia," Linos said, despite looking a little pale. "You should be proud that you have such a creative mind."

That was diplomatic phrasing if I'd ever heard it.

"This seems to be drawing to a conclusion," Hamilcar said. "Are there any further questions?"

No one spoke up.

"Very good," he said, and turned to Ophelia. "Thank you for sharing your innovation with us, acolyte. You may return to your seat."

"As you say, sir... Um-- Thank you again." She curtsied, then hefted the cage back, depositing it back on the floor before climbing back up to her seat.

Though we were supposed to be quiet, Ptolema felt it appropriate to offer her a quiet "Good job, Lia!" and Kamrusepa gave her an approving smile. Even Ran patted her on the shoulder affirmingly as she squeezed passed her. Ophelia looked very relieved, her face flushed.

"Thank you, Ophelia of the Glass FIelds," Aruru said. "Next shall be the presentation from Bardiya of Tuon. Bardiya, please step forward."

And so it continued. Bardiya gave a complex but extremely dry presentation about an artificed anti-viral agent that attacked a rare pathogen shown to slowly damage metabolic function in a way that had so far eluded modern medicine on account of its high mutation rate, with a small demonstration in a petri dish at the end. While Zeno looked so bored I wondered if he'd fallen asleep and even Neferuaten seemed to be struggling to appear interested, it seemed to have the opposite effect on Anna, who was pleased by his hyper-professionalism. She even complimented him, calling him a 'young man with clear potential, should it be cultivated properly'.

Durvasa was engaged too, as this was close to his area of expertise, and asked several complex questions. He was less forthcoming with praise, though. I wondered if bias from yesterday's argument was leaking in.

Next followed Ezekiel. I neglected to mention this earlier, but Ezekiel was a Neuromancer, like Zeno. His presentation was obviously aiming for his approval - an incantation designed to hyperstimulate minds that had already been subject to some amount of degeneration, allowing them to experience temporary bouts of extreme clarity and potentially regain some permanent function. It sounded very complex. Hell, all of Neuromancy was more complex than most disciplines.

...but he didn't have a means to demonstrate it, and the research he showed them was shallow and poorly cited. In the latter half, they begun to notice, and though he answered their questions deftly - he was well-spoken in a professional context, if still cold and blunt - it was obvious it had left a bad impression. And Zeno accused his concept of being derivative to begin with.

He walked away visibly frustrated and angry. So had Seth been telling the truth, after all? Had this happened because he hadn't finished the academic legwork he'd promised him...? I hated not knowing if people were lying to me. ...despite that being incredibly hypocritical.

And then, of course--

"Thank you, Ezekiel of Ilaadbat," Aruru said. "Next shall be the presentation from Jia Fang. Fang, please step forward."

They didn't respond, still fussing over something with their logic engine, their face scrunched up in thought.

"...Jia Fang, please step forward," it repeated.

They blinked. "Huh? Oh-- Ohhh." They laughed nervously, looking genuinely kind of embarrassed. "Wow! That was fast! Shoot, the Ysaran alphabet, huh?"

"Are you prepared to give your presentation, acolyte?" Hamilcar asked. His words were measured, though some of the others were glaring at the obvious lack of respect.

"Uh, if you wouldn't mind, can you bump me down one spot?" They made a flat gesture with their hand, moving it downward accordingly. "Sorry, don't mean to be difficult. I'm just throwing the last of it together."

"Very well," he said. "Aruru, please delay this presentation until after the next."

"Yes, master Hamilcar," it said. "Kamrusepa of Tuon, please step forward."

Probably glad to steal a bit of Fang's thunder, Kam readily rose up, descending down to the floor below.

But for all her confidence, things weren't going to go quite to plan.