moonshadows | TBTT 07. Ambiguity is a marvelous weapon

It is barely six hours before he comes for her again, and an hour that most would not be awake at. He knows it is unfair of him, but what use is a test if the one being tested is forewarned? However, he is pleasantly surprised to discover that she is hunched over the desk with paper before her and the end of a pen in her mouth. As the door closes behind him, she starts and turns around.

“I’m not done yet!” The slightly-panicked fearful tone is exactly what he expected, but when she wilts and moans, “I’ve failed you,” he drops the aura of command and fights back the urge to touch her, reassure her. That is a vulnerability he cannot allow himself. He has accepted her service, yes, but he does not yet trust her to be anything but a child with misplaced hero-worship.

She has attacked him before, and quite cleverly; he does not trust that she will not do so again. The memory of hands upon his horns rises, but he shoves it ruthlessly away. She is clever enough to pass as mostly-harmless, providing comfort in a moment of vulnerability in order to betray him the next time would not be beyond her. He refuses to even consider trusting her in any other respect until he is certain of her loyalty, and to that end…

“There is something that requires my attention. I will not be returning for several days.” All true, as far as that goes. Ambiguity is a marvelous weapon against the possibility that she can hear lies the way he can. “Show me what you have so far,” he commands.

She reluctantly holds the paper out. “It’s in Nathrezim.” The words manage to sound sheepish and apologetic at the same time.

One brief glance and he waves it away, hiding relief. Concentrating enough to make words legible is an annoyance at best, and one who would lie with spoken words will also lie with written ones. Over the years, he has developed a satisfactory compromise, and he employs it now. “Summarize it for me.”

Again, it is as though a switch has flipped at his command. The awkwardness evaporates, leaving a crisp obedience that he wishes he could trust. It would be…refreshing…to have a minion who is not only loyal, but competent. She glances at the paper, marshaling her thoughts while he stands with arms crossed.

“Physical skills: average. Size below average, stamina average, agility above average, strength below average. Incapable of flight.” The last words are said in a ruthlessly emotionless voice that doesn’t fool either of them. “Magical skills: average. Magnitude of power below average. Fine manipulation above average.” She pauses to brace herself. “Command of Nathrezim control techniques: above average. Defense, average. Infiltration, above average. Structural alteration, above average. Frontal impact, below average. Creative reconstruction, above average.” She sets the paper down and picks up the one she was writing on when he came in. His impassive expression and firmly-closed mind give her no indication if she’s sabotaged the little bit of trust she’s managed to win so far, or not. “Domestic skills: average. Cooking, below average. Resource control, average. Embroidery, above average.”

“Embroidery?” He’s let his disguise fall sometime during the recitation, and one black eyebrow arches out from behind the blindfold.

“Embroidery,” she repeats firmly. “A quick and dirty assessment of any given Nathrezim’s abilities: creativity, complexity, control, dedication.”

“I see.” And he does; he remembers threading his way through the currents of a society where one’s garments could speak louder than words. “When I return, I expect you to be able to show me what you are capable of.” The ghost of a smirk flits across his face, and his tiger-by-the-tail reverts to adolescent adoration.

“I will, my Lord!”

“Yes,” he says archly, “you will.” His illusions form around him as he strides to the door, and he pauses before opening it. “I’ve ordered my Head of Historical Investigation to check on you while I’m away. Expect him later today.”

She blinks as the door closes, aware that her visitor is a test of some sort but not understanding how….yet.