The Tower of Tattle

My... mother?

I freeze. So much for fight or flight. I don't know what to do, what to say. I don't even know what to think. All I can do is dumbly walk out and stare, while Shiori leads me worriedly through the brush.

"Now we know this place has NPCs," Shiori whispers.

She doesn't look like an NPC. And if she was one, then why would we whisper? She's there, flesh and blood, and even picking a burr off her skirt.

And she's staring back at us. With the slightest look of surprise, fingers to parted lips, and a sudden stiffness in her posture and widening eyes. Almost like she's...

"I can't believe you! Look at you two!"

Furious at how dirty we are?

She comes over and starts picking at us. As if that's gonna do any good. We're more brush and thicket than we are kids right now. Was she ever a worrywart like this? I find myself unconsciously straightening out my dress, and brushing away her fussing hand.

She scowls at me. But it feels kind of nice. And that scares me a bit.

"We were just outside playing," I say, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Outside playing my foot!" she snaps. "You didn't come home last night! You ran away from home again and you even made Shiori come with you! Look at her!"

Shiori just awkwardly smiles and raises her hand hello.

"Go back home and wash up! Now!"

Yeah, right. Something about the way she yells like she knows what's going on really pisses me off. And I feel blood rushing to my face. It's maddening. What can even say to her? "You're lecturing and yelling at us and you're not even real! You're basically a robot!" It's like, am I mad at her because she's an NPC who thinks she's people?

"We were going there, anyway!" I snap back.

"Then go."

"What about you? Where are you going? Why... why aren't you coming with us?" The angrier I act, the more it'll hide my trembling voice.

She just stares for a second. Unsure what to say. I feel like I've seen this a million times. Because that moment of consideration she gives turns into "her usual" stoic face that now I know I've seen a million times. And it comes right back to me. She's gonna say...

"I'm busy... You know that, ˍ̸̩͖͉̟̳͎̯̥͆͐̏͌ͅ. " She says it as gently as possible.

It doesn't really matter how gently she says it, because Shiori was right. It really is like getting sucker punched, and for a second I black out. It's that strange experience of feeling no time has passed at all, but that you just woke up. And for a second, looking at her, the way she's staring and wrinkling her brow, I'm dumb enough to think she's worried about me.

"Now get going before I get angry. I have something to care care of."

"Fine!"

There's the pulsing headache I've got from hearing my name. There's all these petulant emotions at the surface. Even amidst the throbbing pain, and the hot flash of anger running through me, I can tell there's a darker emotion hiding underneath. That my angry face is the fake one, the only thing covering me right now. And I break eye contact. I feel stupid for getting my hopes up.

Because she's always like this. But then... it's not even her. And in a weird way, feeling angry and let down feels happier than the alternative of thinking the truth out loud. The truth that this is all fake. Anything between me and her, me and this fake person. Any interaction at all means nothing at all.

"Umm..." Shiori tugs at my sleeve softly. "She's not real, Me-... It's okay."

Of course, my mom just raises her eyebrow at the two of us.

"They can have complicated behaviors, of course," Shiori continues, "but look! Woman. Go about your business! BLEH!"

And of course she goes right up to my mom and makes a stupid face with her tongue sticking out at her. I mean... it's true she wouldn't have done that back in the day. But it's also true that that right now my NPC of a mother is scowling and pulling apart Shiori's cheeks.

"What are you doing?" my mom asks.

"Whaah ihh sehh dooin-?!" Shiori asks, deep in regret, question marks popping around her head.

"She just learned a dumb joke," I say, slapping my mom's hands away -- and she raises her eyebrow at me again. Shiori scurries behind me while rubbing her cheeks. "I guess that counts as a complicated behavior. Let's go," I say.

"Defiant this morning, huh? Well, you're at that age. It's normal when you're almost a teenager. Er," she glances at Shiori who just shuts her eyes and lets out and 'eep!' like a terrified animal. I guess she can't see Yorick? "Puberty's different for everyone, though."

"Really? Are you serious right now?" I ask. "Puberty? I'm like... ten right now!"

"You know that's exactly what an annoying tween would say, right?" Her voice lowers. "I'm not going to ask you again. Go. Wash. Up."

She doesn't need to tell me again. I don't even look back as I lead Shiori up the sloping path, to the house I suddenly remember.

"Me... Are you okay?" Shiori asks.

"I'm fine."

I don't care. I don't care one bit. All in all, this was a good encounter, because clearly encountering her activated something in my memory. Just like a jigsaw. You get the corners, then the outsides, and it starts the process of collating it all together. For me? That last corner piece must have been my mother's face. Because the second I saw it, every emotion that had been lurking just unexplained and aching finally started forming a picture I could recognize.

That's what this Tower's all about, I guess. It just picks at the rotting corpse of your memories like a mnemonic vulture. Things that were precious to you, all those things you hated, they're all fair game. They're just food for the Tower to corrode and digest for whatever insane and worthless magical purpose it was made for.

A light rain starts falling, leaving something familiar in the air. It should be unmistakeable. This misting fog, this sticky dew. This scent of salt and pine, floating in on the breeze from the sea. It should tell me I'm home and nowhere else in the world.

But I'm not home.

And so the air keeps drizzling, never quite turning to a real rain, never committing to anything more than a fine mist. With only a few errant raindrops running into us, as if they lost their way.

---

I'm a little mad that she'd take credit for it, but yes, we did clean up. We didn't take a nap because somehow that feels like it would be giving in and admitting our childishness. And like maybe she'd come back while we were sleeping, and I don't even know how I'd deal with that. I don't know what she can and can't do. What's preprogrammed into her behaviors?

"I can't believe how realistic they are!" Shiori gushes, recently the victim of that realism. "It's just like the real thing! With how ore--orenar--oreonerous...

"Onerous and ornery?" I spit out, though not at Shiori of course. "Yeah. That Waechner guy sure does a great job of capturing all of someone's annoying traits."

"Yeah..." Shiori says thoughtfully. "Is this really his work...? He's not that perceptive."

"I'm sure he just outsourced it to some robot-making magus. I bet there's a ton of those."

"Hmm... I mean, there definitely are those guys." Shiori keeps mulling it over.

It's amazing how much better your thinking gets when you're clean. When you're dirty you lose the clarity to even notice you're losing clarity. Same goes with sleep though, and I really do feel tired...

If there's anything keeping me awake, it's the smell of coffee and pinesol through the air. Is it because I'm smaller now? It feels like the smell of coffee is enough to get me caffeinated.

It's the familiar scent of a workaholic. This place always smelled like this. I hate to say it, but it's a little comforting.

Muted greys, muted browns, and muted greens. If ever a color palette said classy, cold, and better than you, it's the wonderfully, inviting colors of my house. Everything's oak, sturdy, and understated: the house lets its size speak. Maybe the only noticeable decorative flourish is the trim.

The baseboard which meets the floor has a spiral going along is length, which almost looks like rope going all the way around the house. And if you can squint, you can see the crown molding has intricate lion motifs carved in, all roaring at the ceiling to make sure it doesn't dare fall down.

It's home, alright. It's just that now I'm remember home was always a touch too regal, to the point of being alienating.

But it's fine. We said we were gonna look for my diary, so let's do that.

Where do we even start?

Here's my room. It's less exciting for me than I would have hoped, though if anything stands out it's that my room is an exciting muted mauve. I get the feeling I didn't spend much time in here. I feel a little distant from it, but a familiar distant, that tells me I felt this way my whole life. So, let's see. No book shelf. A few wooden dolls -- what are we, Victorian? A bed with a really fancy duvet that feels like it'd be too hot, and with tiny pillows that feel like they'd be too starchy.

Wow. I had a walk-in closet.

"Check underneath your mattress!" Shiori suggests.

"No," I mull, "I wouldn't be that obvious."

"Just check it!

"We're trying to retrace my steps, and I'm telling you I wouldn't put it there. Maybe there's a loose floorboard somewhere? At least a box in the closet... Look, I'm just gonna ask again. Are you sure I kept a diary?" I ask.

"Of course you kept one. I know you kept one.

"Did you ever see it?"

"No... but you definitely would've kept one. You were that kind of moody girl."

Ugh. I really hate hearing that, and learning that about myself makes me feel all kinds of unpleasant. Which... tracks.

"You always had an angsty relationship with your mom," Shiori continues. "'Cause she was so busy as the vicereine."

"The what now?"

"She was the town vicereine. It's like the female version of viceroy. Erm. But she was basically just a mayor. It's just one of this town's historical things.

Not Victorian, apparently, but colonial. Alright. That's a bit of a curveball.

"Well, I could've put together that my mom and I don't get along," I say. "But I guess I'm surprised to hear she was that important."

"Oh yeah! The MOST important," Shiori says.

For a second, I feel guilt about our fight about how busy she was. But I don't have time for that right now. But that doesn't stop it from messing my thinking up just enough to make this diary-finding problem harder. I've turned into a real do'er since coming back to town, and I really want to keep that streak going.

Shiori, for her part, has become a lot more passive. Something visually reinforced by the way she always carries Yorick around like a teddy bear. Maybe this was our dynamic as kids. Before whatever happened.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the Codex rustling. The telltail snitch inside can't exactly coo, so all it can do is rub paper together, and crumple as loudly as possible, and flap against air, which, actually, is way louder than you'd think.

So, I whip the thing open, and it flies out straight to my mattress. Seriously? No. Come on.

"I told you!"

"M-maybe it just noticed some loose quarters," I say, lifting up the mattress because the thing was incessantly pecking around my headboard.

And sure enough, there's a diary, which we frankly don't even know yet if it was me who put it there. After all, when I open it up, there's a new telltail snitch. If that wasn't there when I was a kid, who's to say that this diary is even mine? The origami faux-bird pulls itself out from the seam and starts flapping its wings excitedly, ready to hop out and do its little nesting ritual with the Codex.

"I think it's got your name!" Shiori says excitedly, as the snitch folds itself into the Codex.

A little dazed by how fast we found it, I feel some butterflies in my stomach. But, when I look at it I realize...

"Mˍˍˍˍˍˍˍ 's Diary."

"It only gave you the first letter of your name..." Shiori says quietly.

She lets out a sound that's a little more mournful than your typical sigh, and I feel my heart clench up a bit. Less because of the diary and more because of Shiori's reaction. I won't lie about it: I'm disappointed too. But Shiori looks absolutely crushed. So, I try to be quick on my feet and cheer her up.

"Well, that... means the rest of them must be somewhere around this town, right? It's just like a scavenger hunt, alright? Just another little adventure for us." I say.

"That's..." Shiori eyes look more than just dejected. For just a second, they take on this trace of hopelessness that I'd never seen in them before.

"Look! Look, there's a journal entry! Come on, let's check out whatever nutty thing I wrote as a kid.

So, I open up the page...

And I slam the Codex shut immediately.

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