Cylus 10th Arc 720
Continues from here
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know you could scry on people,” Oberan’s voice came from my left. I hadn’t heard him enter. Surprisingly, he wasn’t naked. He wore the bathrobe I’d laid out for him. It was one of mine, so it was a soft pink hue. For some reason I’d expected the demigod to take offense to being asked to wear something that didn’t match his usual color palette. Weren’t those semi-divine creatures often described as immensely prideful in myths and legends?
Yet there he was, clad in a fuzzy bathrobe that didn’t really fit his body type, the hood with triangular ears up. While he and I were about the same height, my body was far more slight. Mostly. Some parts of me could lose some volume. Oberan wasn’t broad and muscular like a bodybuilder, but neither was he rail-thin. Slender and athletic, all tendons and wiry muscle. It was more than enough to make the bathrobe not fit him. He’d managed to tie it close at the waist, keeping his privates hidden, fortunately, but the robe refused to wrap decently around his shoulders. The result was a very deep v-neck that showed off his chest, a similar mark to mine near his heart. Ill-fitting and mismatched as the bathrobe looked on him, it was oddly cute and adorable –especially so coupled with the fox tail peeking out from underneath the hem. I had to suppress a giggle.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening,” I said, gaze returning to the television screen. He pointed at it, then sat down on the other half of the couch. All his attention was fixed on the images flashing by. The lead actress made doe-eyes at a too-pale sparkly prettyboy. A story about a dangerous, but exciting and forbidden love between girl and monster. Not my words, that’s how the channel phrased the synopsis.
“You’re scrying on those two with that device?” he repeated, “Or are you capable of that yourself, using the window-box-thing as a conduit?” Leaning in towards the TV, he squinted hard. “Who are they? Enemies? People you need dirt on?” One hand came up to stroke his beard. “You’re more devious than I’d given you credit for. Also, he’s pretty tiny for an Ellune. Or are they simply not as tall in this world?”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “What? Do you mean the TV? I don’t think I follow. It’s just a movie. Ellune?”
“Tee-vee,” he echoed with a frown. “That’s a dumb name for such an impressive device.”
“It’s short for television,” I said, somehow taking offense on behalf of whoever invented one of the greatest pieces of technology in modern history. Dumb name? Someone calling himself Oberan had no right to say such things. “It comes from Latin and means ‘far sight’.” I topped it off by rambling something about airwaves and signals. Whatever vague knowledge was left from high school physics classes where the principles behind old televisions had been discussed. I knew that was I said was either outdated, wrong, or both, but he didn’t.
The demigod was staring at me as if I spoke gospel. That’s right, a wide-eyed fascination was an appropriate reaction from a denizen of a renfair world.
“Amazing,” he said, as if he had understood even one word of my technobabble. “So it’s a powerful artefact made by arteficers and gadgeteers. Without magic. Doubly impressive!” A sagely nodding underscored his statement. “So how did you get hold of one? Surely they must be terribly expensive. Not to mention all the other artefacts you possess. The bread toasting device, the rain-maker, the ice-cold cupboard... And the scented oils and fine clothes too.” He stroked the fuzzy bathrobe appreciatively. “It’s a bit garish, but that softness is to die for.”
Of course a demigod from a medieval fantasy-like world would be baffled by the amount of devices and gadgets and luxury garments present in our houses. To him it must be unimaginable that even not-so-wealthy people could afford such things. That we considered these normal and basic might surprise him even more. He looked so amazed and content, though, tail wagging happily. I decided not to tell him the robe was old and worn out.
“This one was actually pretty cheap,” I said, nodding to the TV, “I bought it second hand, so I think I paid about one third, maybe half of the retail price. Like two hundred, I think?”
“Gold pieces?” He whistled. “So you are a wealthy noble!”
“Actually I paid with a credit card,” I said, deciding to slap him around the ears some more with modern-world terms. Marvel and be amazed, medieval demigod man! Behold the progress we’ve built up over the course of centuries!
His eyes sparkled at the sound of the unfamiliar word. “You paid two hundred credit cards for the Tee-vee-vision?” From the looks of it, he was doing calculations in his head. The expression on his face spoke of intense concentration. Eventually, he shrugged. Apparently he’d given up. “How much credit is a card, and how much is that in gold?”
I grinned. “A credit card is a card you put money on—do I have to explain how banks work? Do you know what a bank is?”
Oberan shot me a look of indignation. “Of course I know what a bank is!” he snorted. “We had banks in Idalos. It’s not like we’re primitives, you know.”
To be honest, compared to the people here, I was fairly certain they might as well be.
“Sure. So you open an account at the bank, right, and you put money in it. In exchange for a fee.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what banks are for. So?”
“So we get a card that’s kind of like a key to your own account. I mean, the money doesn’t get stored as physical money, but digitally. Basically, they keep a record of how much money is on your account, without the money actually sitting in a personal vault within the bank. With the card, you can withdraw money from ATMs –that’s ehm, a machine where you can convert some of your digital money in physical money—or you can transfer the digital money from your account directly to someone else’s account.”
“I see. I think I get the gist of it. So basically what you’re saying is there’s no actual money at the banks anymore, only the accounts of their clients?”
“Oh, no there is. The banks have ATMs so people can withdraw some of their money from their accounts, remember? They still have to restock them so people can access their cash if they need it. Pretty sure the banks has some cash in the vault for other things as well,” I answered to the best of my ability. To me that explanation made sense. I’d never really thought about those things much. I lived in this world, but didn’t really concern myself with the how and why of things. They just were the way they were. Maybe I more ignorant than I thought.
Oberan nodded slowly. Behind those dark eyes of his, something shimmered.
“How well protected are the banks in this world? In mine, one the most secure banks was actually located on the bottom of a lake. It was run by Mer, you see, and since normal people can’t breathe underwater, not many would-be-robbers even considered trying to break in. Another was allegedly guarded by magic. Statues that came to life to arrest any that didn’t belong, trapped vaults that paralyzed those that tried opening it without the right key… That kind of thing.”
“What, you think yours are better than ours?” I asked, attention mostly on the screen. The pretty sparkle-boy and the heroine were about to make out, but her childhood friend interrupted them. He could transform into a giant beast, and though in the books he had learned to meld his clothes into his beast form, in the movies they’d opted to make him shirtless whenever he shifted from beast to man. The actor had rigorously sculpted his body in the gym for that role, so I’d read.
“We have cameras that surveil the place twenty-four seven.” How’d he called it? “So there’s someone constantly scrying on the inside and outside of the building. Then there’s also loads of alarms. Not to mention a thick ass vault door. And security guards.” Banks had those, right? That wasn’t just a movie thing? “Why?”
It dawned on me almost immediately after I forced out that word. I quickly turned towards him, catching a glimpse of the schemes unfolding, budding inside his mind. They played in the glint of his eyes and the upturned corners of his mouth. Mischief was brewing. What kind of demigod had he said he was? Thieves and criminals and some such?
Oh.
No. Surely he wouldn’t.
I asked just in case. Gingerly.
“You’re not… by any chance… thinking of robbing a bank… are you?”
A sharkish grin split his face in two while he glanced at me from the corners of his eyes.
“Who? Me? Of course not. At least, not today. I need to learn way more about this world before I attempt such a thing. Besides my clothes are still in the laundry machine.”
We locked eyes, my stare boring into his. He was laughing, I wasn’t.
“Oh, please. I’m just joking! Let’s just continue spying on people, it’s getting good! The Ellune and the Becomer are going to fight, I think.”
I didn’t take my eyes of the demigod yet, despite him being absorbed by the building tension of the movie. Sure, he’d laughed it off and claimed to be joking around, but I could tell –either through my own intuition or through the telepathic link between us— he definitely hadn’t been.
