Dragon Harem Quest - Or: Saying You Were Gay Wasn't The Conversation-Ender You Hoped For

The silence stretches on, to be filled by nobody else but you. This was really supposed to be a lot easier. The wizard was supposed to be gone-gone with no weird mute alleged apprentice waiting in his place to guard all the valuables and you were supposed to get the rare opportunity to steal everything interesting and cool a master wizard owned. Now what do you have? An awkward one-sided conversation you have to carry somehow because the stupid map pointed you to-

Hang on, that's it! You've got this magic map you don't know how it works really and there's a free wizard right here and clearly spoiling for shit to do! You wind the leather strap around your hand a few more times, bringing the bag closer for ease of rummaging.

"Hey, if you're looking for things to do tests on, I've got a thing here," you say.

[Oh?]

"Yeah it's a magic map I bought a few days ago." You produce the crystal-inlaid map tube and hand it over to the shorter apprentice wizard. "It's pointing me to sssstuff in all sorts of places all over the continent and one of the markers led me here. Another led to Makram's lamp. I'm assuming it points to treasure but-" you shrug "-I dunno, might as well ask a professional?"

[I'll look at it right away! ] they reply enthusiastically, examining the tube every which way as they wiggle the sign in their free hand. [A brand new magic thing I didn't make myself, oh this is wonderful!]

Now that you're paying proper attention you can see at least some semblance of expression on the weird shadow-person's face. The pure white eyes shift and distort in imperfect imitation of the emotion they wish to convey - angling down with invisible 'eyebrows' for a frown or scowl, arcing up into crescent moons for mirth and happiness, widening slightly for surprise and 'blinking' as if disappearing and reappearing behind vantablack eyelids. They hurry over to a workstation that hasn't recently been flipped over and you follow, Makram remaining exactly where he is in a very pointedly relaxed and uncaring nap-pose.

[I'll have to be quiet while I work, sorry] the wizard signs as they shake the map free of its tube. [Can't talk with both hands busy.]

"Sure, no problem." It's easy to be courteous when you're already struggling for conversation more than the mute person.

The wizard spreads out the map nice and flat, the enchanted vellum remaining ruler-straight and flat despite all the time it spent rolled up. Their hands hover over the yellowed surface, gloved fingers twiddling with almost manic glee. Possibly also arcane gestures, as thin golden traceries begin to snake from their fingertips like coloured ink spilled in water. They build atop each other, wriggling and squirming this way and that, enmeshing the map in a fine lattice hovering an inch off the vellum itself. The marked locations continue to shine as brightly as ever, visible even through whatever magic the wizard is working.

A gesture with both hands, as if commanding an orchestra to rise, and the map lifts itself into the air. The wizard delicately curls the outer two fingers on each hand, commanding the map to spin around and show them the blank side. A side which suddenly isn't so blank any more. It looks like... you don't know, instructions? A how-to manual? A maker's mark? It's all flowing and close-written and the gift of tongues is mostly for that, tongues. Theoretically you can read anything too, but no matter how you squint the letters just seem to swim frustratingly. Is it a dead language, courtesy of the people whose traces keep turning up in the Beyond? The ones who made Makram's lamp?

The wizard flips the map around and sets it back down again with a little bob up and down of satisfaction. They flick their wrist and the strange mesh of magic dissipates, a hundred gold threads shooting up into the air and leaving behind nothing but fast-fading, glittering motes.

"So what can you tell me about it?" you ask.

[Not a lot! Isn't that exciting!? ]

"I guess," you say neutrally. "But what can you tell me?"

[Oh it's a wonderful piece, absolutely stunning!] They indicate things on the map with their free hand as they sign at you. [You said you just bought it? Who would be dumb enough to sell this!?] [Don't answer that I don't really care.] [What's actually interesting is that this map doesn't necessarily point to treasure!]

"But that's-" you start, immediately very concerned that there's no gargantuan piles of treasure awaiting you at each spot.

[Shush!]

You shush.

[This map is about finding things that the attuned owner wants to find!] they explain, flashing signs almost faster than you can read. [Or... needs to find?] [In this context they're kind of the same thing.] [The point is that if it's pointing you to treasure it's only because right now you crave treasure more than anything else in the entire world!]

You need a second to peer at the lettering on that last sign, it gets pretty cramped. "That... sounds about right," you reply at last. "So it must be working just like I assumed it did?"

[Mhm!] They point at the map once more, specifically at the compass. [It even attuned itself to you, see? It's not following my desires it's still following yours!]

And then the wizard freezes, their last sign still held up nice and high for you to read. Because they've forgotten all about it and instead turned their attention to where they're pointing. At the needle of the magic compass as it points, not at north, not at anything else in the room, but them. You watch, your stomach seeming to freeze solid, as the wizard slowly takes three steps left, then six steps right. The needle unerringly, unmistakably, follows their motion.

"Hey, no listen-" you start.

They still can't make any noise but they still somehow give the impression of a light, high-pitched 'eeeeeeeee'. Their last sign falls and dissipates in mid-air, forgotten, as they slap their gloved hands to their cheeks and... blush. It amounts to a faint white haze and a few cross-hatched marks, as if drawn on with a white pen, but it's unmistakable.

"H-hey just- just let me explain first-" you sputter, increasingly bewildered as to how your life can so continually go so wrong.

[No no no no calm down it's fine!] the wizard quickly signs. [Gods I just-] [eeeehee :3]

"I just don't want you getting the wrong idea over a-"

[It doesn't have to mean you immediately love me, silly!] the wizard waggles their sign in your face, practically ready to bonk you right between the horns with it. [Just being able to tell how someone already feels is baby magic for babies, and this map is way too cool for that.] [It measures overall potential for satisfaction with whatever it is you want to pursue so badly it appears on the map] [So what it means is your heart's greatest desire is someone to love you and that's so cuuuuuuute~]

"D-don't go putting words in my mouth because some map told you to!" you say quickly, waving your claws in a desperate 'cease and desist' motion.

[Oh look, the glowing spot in the tower with me is brighter than most of the others.] [And you said it led you to his lamp?]

"That's not-"

[I could hold the map up next to him and see :3]

"This is not what I wanted when I asked for your opinion," you groan. "Thank you for your service but-"

At which point you completely lose control of the situation because, no doubt called forth by the unmistakable sounds of you freaking out, Makram has awoken and read enough signs to get the gist. You find him hovering on his back beside you, hands clasped tight over his well-toned stomach, laughing so hard he isn't actually making much sound. It's just helpless belly convulsions and and a lot of teary-eyed, suffocated wheezing. You scowl at him to the fullest extent you are capable of, lacking the wherewithal to do it with words right now, but the moment he cracks his eyes open wide enough to see your expression he just laughs harder. You slowly turn your head back towards the wizard and just... just kind of let it all wash over you. Because this cannot get any worse. You have hit rock-bottom.

[Could you point to where on the map your lair is please?] the wizard asks. [I need a definite location to teleport and that way we can go on dates easily :3]

"I-I'm not sure about-"

"There," Makram interjects, pointing to exactly where your lair is, his voice strained by the guffaws still threatening to consume him and steal the last shred of air from his lungs. "With the others."

Indeed there's still a double-strength point of light at your lair, no doubt indicating Jun-ho and Belial. And off to the south a bit, right where Issachar told you his farm was, lies a second. The seven treasures you thought the map pointed you to are now ten... love interests.

[Looks like someone's collected half the set already~] the wizard teasingly signs.

Okay you were incorrect this is rock-bottom. Makram wheezes in your ear again and you look down at yourself speculatively, just to check if you've forgotten to shift your lower half back from mortal like all the other nightmares of this calibre. The wizard gently touches your arm to get your attention and you lift your head again.

[Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to actually make you feel bad. :c] [In all this excitement I forgot to introduce myself.] [I dunno if it's my real name from before the accident but you can call me Abzu.]

"Nice to meet you I guess," you say, mostly because you have to. "Look I've just had a- YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP-" Makram at least stops wheeze-laughing right in your year "-rough few days. Family pressure, people moving in, half my gold blowing up, I just really needed this to be about something simple like treasure."

[I see.] Abzu keeps the sign held up for a moment while they cast their eyes around and think. [I can't just give away my master's stuff willy-nilly, but there's plenty of stuff I made that's just sitting around collecting dust otherwise. D'you want any of it?]

You blink. The offer floors you. Abzu has all this magical stuff they made, not even stuff they rightfully bough or stole, and they'd just... give it away? It's madness, worthy of deep suspicion, were the weird little wizard not so much of an oddity anyway.

"That... would be nice," you say haltingly.

[Great! Don't worry about transport, with a teleport location I can just bring it over myself.] [Oh but speaking of teleport!] Abzu twiddles their fingers around the handle of the sign as they pause to think about the next one. [It's pretty late out. If you flew back you definitely wouldn't make it before dark.] [D'you want me to teleport you back now, or stay the night here and fly back by yourself?] [It's no trouble either way, got heaps of space here and plenty of magic to spare.]

You're still acutely aware of Makram's presence beside and slightly behind you, but at this point it's a matter of pride that you not turn to look at him again. You force yourself to consider nothing but Abzu's words, magically scrawled on wooden signs they may be. You certainly have no desire to fly back in the dead of night so that's no third option. Teleporting sounds wonderfully quick and simple, but it means bringing Abzu right into your lair and showing them off to the other freeloaders or otherwise having to scramble to get out in front of explaining before Makram can be Makram. Staying the night also sounds nicely lazy, and possibly involve magicking up sufficiently dragony sleeping arrangements, but it might give Abzu and Makram even more wrong ideas than they already have.

[ ] Have Abzu teleport you home tonight.
[ ] Stay the night in Abzu's tower.