“We arrive at her apartment; the floor littered with food wrappers, piles of dirty laundry and empty potion bottles.

“Why do you keep those bottles, anyway?” I push aside a few with my foot. “You don’t specialize in liquid-based magic.”

“Yeah, but the bottles are pretty.” She laughs, moving things aside to give me space to sit. “And I always want to support my friends. I mean, the ice cream you had just now? Lisa made it.”

“Lisa? Wasn’t she a baker last you mentioned her?”

“Yep. And now she makes ice cream. I don’t question her, so neither will you.”

“... So be it.”

There’s another laptop on the floor, next to a stack of books I don’t remember being there the day before. And next to that is a bowl, filled with cream crackers and unsliced cheese. I cringe.

“How do you get anything done in this hellhole?”

She turns to me. “Really? Hellhole?”

“Demonrealm is not Hell.” I scoff. “We have better WiFi.”

She rolls her eyes. “Common mistake.” Finally, she plops down in front of me, relaxed. “But really, I like it like this. It’s cosy.”

“Is ‘cosy’ human slang for ‘messy,’ or…?”

“‘Cosy’ is human slang for ‘keep asking questions and I take all the blankets tonight.’”

“Right.”

There is a silence, and it is deafening.

“So,” she clicks her tongue. “What did Shopkeep have you do earlier? I’m sorry you keep having to go there in the mornings. It’s… y’know, work.”

I sigh. “It is no problem. I understand. Witchcraft…” She clears her throat and eyes me. “Sorry, technomancy, is a delicate art.”

“Right now, anyway.” She puffs out her chest. “I’m meeting with an investor at the end of the week who might fund my research; hopefully it’ll help me find more technomancers - or at least, potential ones, in the near future.”

“But why technomancy?” I raise an eyebrow. “Why not something more readily available like… plant magic?”

She points to the bougainvilleas next to the window. Or at least, the remains of what once was bougainvilleas.

“...Right.”

There is silence again.

“I wish I could treat you better.” Her voice is small. “I’m sorry you have to live like… this… with, well… me.” She chews on her lower lip, refusing to meet my eyes. “I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

I force out a laugh. “It was either this, or be publicly executed for treason.”

“I still can’t believe Demonrealm operates on such barbaric methods.”

“And I still can’t believe you humans rely on such meagre WiFi signals.”

“... So what, we’re both barbarians in our own right?”

“I guess so.”

And we share a genuine laugh.