Sworded Affair

I\'m not hallucinating, am I?

Emma felt that was a reasonable ask, given the giant parrot she was staring down.

[A degree of anonymity is a necessity for dealings in good faith, at least where paranoid Magi are concerned. A man can appear as a parrot, though the parrot isn\'t necessarily a man. Dreams are funny like that.]

"What do you have to offer?" Emma asked, even as she wondered what she looked like on the other end of what she suspected was an incredibly realistic virtual reality.

"Only the very best of artificial bodies, one hundred percent lab grown!" The Macaw proclaimed, puffing his feathery chest proudly. "No grave robbing, demonic essence or secondhand goods here."

[Appearances change based on wording and intent, without conscious control. Lying is difficult here.]

"Then I\'m in the right place," Emma decided, replying both to the salesman and her System together. "There should be an order for a homunculus for me; a standard human model for a fifteen year old girl?"

"No enhancements whatsoever?" The Macaw hummed. "Unusual. Yes, I believe I have one such model in storage; paid for in advance six hundred years ago by Elizabeth Faust. Who might you be?"

"I have a number of names, depending on who you ask," Emma replied, her eyes set on one specific line of her status page. "But given current circumstances, you can call me Anathema."

[Divine Conduit (Anathema): ?]

Technically the truth, given the link between Emma and her ancestor; The Macaw certainly bought it, given how he flinched; wings flapping rapidly for a second as he struggled to right himself, ultimately succeeding just moments before taking a tumble off the table.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, my apologies," The Macaw replied, his voice a lot softer and more deferential now. "Everything appears to be in order, thank you again for your patronage!"

The Macaw popped like a balloon, before Emma had a chance to ask about delivery; in his place, a remarkably lifelike doll wearing Emma\'s former appearance could be seen, lying sprawled across the table. Tall and lanky, blonde haired with green eyes and a total lack of feminine definition, in many ways the ideal runner\'s build.

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[Homunculus {Emma Knight} - Level 0]

"Pretty good attention to detail," Emma praised, running a hand through the replica\'s hair.

Granted, she\'d never worn a pink leotard before, gymnastics not being her thing, but everything else was spot on.

[Quest - All Mart updated.

Objective: Acquire a homunculus (Emma Knight) done.]

Emma almost said something along the lines of \'that was easy\', before deciding not to tempt fate.

"Oversoul."

The transition into the Homunculus was instantaneous; not even a barest hint of a conflicting will slowed Emma down as she took over the empty shell. All told, she had maybe five seconds to appreciate a return to flesh and blood, before the overwhelming smell of damp, rotted wood and mould hit her full force; her senses no longer dampened for the first time in months. Emma ended up stumbling out of the ruined shed, retching and very thankful that the homunculus was delivered with an empty stomach.

---

"Slow down!" Noah complained as he ran after Saint, the cat demonstrating the benefits of a physically oriented build to leave him in the dust.

They\'d run five circles around the entire encampment at full sprint by now, and despite the incidental gains from his own levels, Noah\'s lungs were beginning to burn.

"I thought I\'d left basic training behind," He gasped, as the chase continued.

Saint was holding back, even he could tell; staying ahead just far enough to avoid being caught, but close enough that Noah wouldn\'t lose her trail. Another lap completed, and a seventh for good measure, until his patience began to fray. Only when Noah began to seriously consider casting did the chase come to a halt, with Saint darting into a tent seemingly at random. Noah took a few seconds to catch his breath, before following the wayward cat into the unknown.

"Hello, dearie!"

[Magus Magestic - Level 45 Warden]

A massive clown head greeted him; just a head, set in a floating display case with a conspicuous lack of a body in a scene straight out of a haunted house. Nerves already frayed from the long chase, Noah\'s reflexive Balefire was utterly unsurprising for him, and very surprising for his host. Saint was sat on the floor directly beneath the now screaming head, wearing a profoundly smug expression for a cat. Roots flickered in and out of existence around her, etched with runes that made Noah\'s eyes bleed as they battled with formless shapes at the edge of sight. Whatever the Magus was trying to do, it didn\'t work; at least not quickly enough to stave off Noah\'s balefire. Ten seconds later, the clown head screamed no more.

"...Oops?" Noah muttered, staring at the pile of ash that represented his first visit to a magical shop. "Am I going to be in trouble for that?"

[On the contrary, you just killed a very foolish man. One I employed, a long time ago; one who thought my death gave him leave to plunder the very storage I entrusted him to guard. You\'re welcome.

1000 EXP gained (50% split allocation).

Level up!]

Heaving a loud sigh, Noah put the surprise encounter out of mind as best he could, in favour of looking at the rewards.

---

"There you go, five hundred thrones for a standard Homunculus, measurements as follows," Elizabeth quoted, feeding a slip of paper and a jingling bag of coins to the oversized Macaw, who swallowed them both in a single gulp.

"Pleasure doing business with you," The Macaw nodded. "Stay safe out there, the Spanish Inquisition are relentless these days."

"Wassail," Elizabeth replied, in lieu of offering any information about her own time period.

Crossing off the first item on her shopping list, Elizabeth made her way out of the cabin, her sinuses tingling at the overabundance of plant life within.

"Next stop, the bank."