This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

Sol trailed Lucinda around town, though her hopes to learn more about the woman were quickly dashed: any conversations Lucinda held with various parties were masked by some magical device of hers. She might have discarded Sol as a threat—and even taken an interest—but that didn't mean she was going to let Sol eavesdrop. Or anyone, for that matter. The secretiveness only stoked Sol's burning curiosity.

As for what her mission was, Sol had a few clues. Lucinda had mentioned looking for 'that damn girl'. Based on where they stopped throughout the city—a variety of guilds and other common locations for wayfarers—Sol could make the informed guess that she was seeking out another wayfarer. That wasn't too surprising, and also didn't help much.

Maybe a friend of hers? A guildmate? Enemy? Some manner of artificer? Another professional connection? Sol hadn't the slightest idea, only that it was a young woman. Since Lucinda purposefully kept her conversations private, she couldn't narrow her ideas down. She did, however, note who Lucinda spoke to; she might come back and pester them later.

Though that was risky. Sol might already be lucky that Lucinda had deemed her a non-threat and wouldn't be killing her. Messing with powerful beings could easily be deadly, or even involving with them, Sol knew, and while she had made a guess based on what she'd seen of this world that simply snooping into Lucinda's life probably wouldn't have resulted in a quick execution, it had been just that: a guess. She was lucky that Lucinda seemed even-tempered, that Sol still got to walk around, and even with a promise of being let go after her interest was sated.

But if Sol came back to pester these men and women for what Lucinda had been asking them? And Lucinda found out? That might make her mercy evaporate—and Sol could be in serious trouble.

So she was torn. With luck, she could learn more about Lucinda from the woman herself, without need for external investigation.

Though why did Sol care? She should only be focused on Zoey. However intriguing this new wayfarer was, she showed no indicators of being blessed by a divine—and thus, while possibly important to this world, and therefore relevant to the Famished's invasion, not remotely on the scale of Zoey, who remained a baffling wildcard.

Sol could also slip past the sound-dampening device, probably, but that was even riskier than mundane snooping, since Lucinda might detect it.

And her original goal of pretending to be a civilian was probably forfeit. Her instinctive struggling when Lucinda had grabbed her and slammed her into that alley wall had likely given that away, since she had struggled with much greater strength than a regular human. It wasn't a guarantee that Lucinda had noticed, especially when the power difference was so significant, but it was a possibility.

Seeing how she didn't want to be caught lying, she should therefore pretend to be a weak or unimportant wayfarer, not a civilian. To Lucinda, there might not even be much of a difference.

Lucinda's search didn't seem to be fruitful. After several hours of poking around town—in which Sol noted Lucinda frequently consulting some strange tablet-like item that glowed with magic—Lucinda gave up her efforts for the day. Or maybe her tolerance ran out, and she wanted to get to that so-called 'stress relief' she'd mentioned earlier. She seemed to be telling the truth that the past two weeks had been irritating her; she didn't look happy about having to scour the city for whoever her enigmatic mark was.

"That's enough for today," Lucinda grunted. "I'll deal with it later. You said there was a potion store?"

Sol guided her there. She was concerned about bumping into Zoey, since it was her business, but thank Mother, that didn't happen. Lucinda perused the wares with entertainment mixed with bafflement, purchased some from Adrienne, then departed. Sol breathed a sigh of relief that no disastrous coincidence happened. She had nearly expected it to.

"I think I'll forgive you for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Lucinda mused as she ambled casually down the street, Sol at her side. "I'm not usually a merciful woman, but something fun came from it." Her eyes flicked down to Sol's crotch to emphasize the point. "And there's these potions, which I doubt I would've found otherwise. Seeing how I've always seen myself as a results-oriented woman, you've been forgiven."

"I'm … glad to hear that?" Sol said tentatively.

Lucinda turned the vials over one more time, her expression still confusedly amused, then pocketed it. "Anyway, I'm heading back to my room," she said. "You can leave, or join me."

Sol blinked. She had thought she hadn't had much of a choice in the matter—Lucinda had made her interest clear. That she was looking for 'stress relief' and a diversion from her mission. Sol rifled through her understanding of human society and realized that being forced into an encounter like that, though, was highly unsavory: Lucinda was making it clear she had a choice in the matter. Lucinda wasn't the kind of woman to just take what she wanted. Not in this way, at least. In others, Sol suspected she very much was.

But Sol was obviously interested. Even if a part of her—the non-suicidal, practical part—acknowledged she should run as fast as she could and not look back. Involvement with this woman was not just ignoring Mother's directive, but spurning it. Sol had been excusing her exploration of society by mostly keeping her distance. Entangling herself with a clearly high-ranked wayfarer was certainly not 'covert observation'.

But she hadn't learned anything. And her curiosity still burned.

And more shamefully, there were carnal pleasures to indulge in. Which was another thing Sol had been growing increasingly vulnerable to.

"I'll join you," Sol said.

Lucinda snorted. She didn't sound surprised by Sol's answer. "You really can leave, though. I should say that, considering—" she waved vaguely, and Sol was surprised that she understood humans well enough to interpret what she meant even before she clarified: how she had slammed her into a wall and interrogated her. "How we met," Lucinda finished.

"I shouldn't have followed you. That was rude. So it's my fault."

Lucinda hummed in agreement. "So. What advancement are you? Third? Fourth?"

Ah. So the woman had assumed that, like Sol had feared. She'd much rather be assumed a civilian, but it wasn't world-ending that Lucinda had figured out otherwise.

Not that Sol was a wayfarer. But it was a human equivalent she could hide her strength and abilities behind.

 "Third." Lower felt better. From her understanding, third was already somewhat notable, even for a city of this size. The amount of wayfarers at each advancement diminished just as rapidly as power increased.

"And why exactly did you follow?" Lucinda said. She cut Sol's response off before it came: "Yeah, yeah, you were curious. But I meant, what gave it away? I've never been good at pretending to be normal."

Sol noted the phrasing. She desperately wanted to know just how 'not-normal' this woman was.

"I don't know if it was anything specific," Sol half-lied. A big portion had definitely been her ability to read the woman's latent magic: the complex aura that surrounded her, muted, but still of a complexity that Sol hadn't seen on anyone else. "Just how you carried yourself." That was the truth—though Sol admitted she might not have been as interested without more concrete giveaways. She hesitated before her follow-up. "And what about you?" Sol asked carefully. "What advancement are you?" She winced at how direct the question was.

And seeing how Lucinda turned an amused look at her, she could tell she wouldn't be getting an answer. "Let's say fourth," the woman said dryly.

So, not that. At least fifth. But Sol had already expected that. Higher, then? Sixth? Seventh? Those were the ranks of people whose names were known across the Fractures. Especially seventh and above; there were only a few dozen in the world, from what Sol had learned. Though she had hardly done deep research into that topic. She'd been more interested in mundane aspects of society.

And if she was someone that important, then just who was Lucinda wasting her time looking for? Especially since it seemed like she didn't want to be—as if she'd been ordered to.

But who had the authority to order a woman like her around?

Or maybe Sol was making too many assumptions. She really might be fourth advancement, someone of not much importance, globally speaking.

Sol at least had further opportunity to study the woman. Even make conversation. Perhaps she could learn more. Get concrete answers. Humans were vulnerable during intimate encounters; maybe she could sneak questions in. Hide them behind an admiring or innocently curious nature?

Risky. But maybe worth it?

Though, with what Lucinda had planned for her when they got back to her room, there might not be much time for talking.

And if there wasn't, Sol didn't think she'd be too upset by that.