With the fear of a monster hunting him down gone, James finally felt free to roam the island again. And by gods, did he need it; to get out of the cabin, to be in the fresh air. To feel less cooped up and insane. All it took was a day of it to make him feel like he was trapped again. House arrest was kinder than a prison, but he hated feeling like he couldn't leave somewhere of his own will, even if it was safety related.
James decided to do something on his own for once that didn't involve running. He went to the plaza. He got some tea at the coffee shop. He propped up and started reading a book, even if it was one he'd read before. And it was nice, too, until Ingrid had to show up out of nowhere, ruining his afternoon by virtue of existing in his presence.
And it got worse when she approached his table, took a seat across from him, and ignored the fact that he was ignoring her.
Did this all feel a bit petty, perhaps? Immature, maybe? Would it be better to tell her to go away nicely? Or was it too much to expect her to get the hint?
There was a tense silence where he could feel Ingrid staring through his skull, just waiting for him to look up from his book.
"Come on," she said with a sigh. "Are you really going to be childish with me?"
James only glanced up at her.
"Last I recall," he said. "I told you not to seek me out, and I explicitly told you what I'd do if you did. I don't think I need to remind you."
"That was also before I knew you were apparently on some crazy old man's hit list," Ingrid said.
"No need to disrespect the dead," James said, turning a page.
"Are you serious?" Ingrid asked. "James, people are saying that the guy tried to kill you. Or worse. And no one's giving a straight answer for what happened when he tried. Just 'the danger is eliminated.' But hell if I know what that means."
James slowly looked up at her from his book, unimpressed at her fishing.
She knew full well what it implied. She didn't have to do that much guess-work. For all he knew, she'd already gotten the answers she needed to piece together what happened, and she was just playing dumb to force him to say it aloud. To force vulnerability that she hadn't earned.
And yet, it'd be easier to just say it than to keep playing cat and mouse like this. He didn't have to play her game.
"I killed him," James said cooly, looking back to his book - which he was in fact not reading, but was still pretending to. "That's what that means."
Ingrid stared at him, and from the corner of his eyes, he could feel her pent up frustration increasing. Even without touch, her anxiety was palpable. And exhausting. So much tension wound up in one woman. How could Ingrid stand to exist?
A long silence passed, as if she expected him to say more. He didn't.
"That's it?" she asked.
"I am not obliged to indulge your curiosity," James said flatly.
"It's not goddamn curiosity," Ingrid said more curtly.
Ah yes. Here we go. Yes, Ingrid. Take the mask off. He'd been waiting for this.
"You literally killed a man and you're out here wearing a tshirt that says 'For-shore' and reading a book about--" she paused, squinting at the title and tilting her head to see it. "Alpaca farming? Is that book even legible? It looks water-damaged."
"It's not much different than reading without glasses," James joked in monotone.
But ah. She hated when he did that.
Ingrid reached over and slapped the book out of James's hands. James narrowly dodged her touch as he ripped his hands away and pushed his chair back with his legs. The chair legs squealed across the pavement and the chair toppled back under his weight from the sudden movement.
Far more dramatically than he'd intended, he fell back onto the concrete, legs flying up over his head as he rolled back out of the way.
Well. Way out of the way.
James grunted as he rolled onto his side, trying to pick himself up to his feet as normally as possible. But at this rate, he'd already made a scene of all of this without really meaning to. And Ingrid, of course, was livid about it. She was on her feet, holding the crinkled book in her hands as she pointed it down at him accusingly.
"Why won't you just talk to me?" she asked, waving the book around. "Can we really not have a normal conversation like grown adults?"
"Sorry if I don't feel like talking with you about how I had to kill a man," James said dryly, with no real intents to be sorry. He got to his feet, noting that the chair was now very dented. The legs were bent and deformed, making it so it really couldn't be sat back up again.
"So you're just going to ignore that it happened at all?" Ingrid asked. "Like, what the hell is going on? What happened to the James that makes a fuss about injustice? You don't just take it like this."
James honestly didn't even feel like arguing with her. Three years ago, she'd been telling him to stop making a fuss. Now she was demanding he did. She was going to argue whatever served her best, and in this moment, she apparently thought appealing to his moral compass was going to get him to open up more or something. But he wasn't going to.
"Can I have the book back, now?" he asked. "It's not even mine."
And he regretted saying that, because Ingrid's expression turned almost crazed.
"That's right," she said venemously. "It belongs to Hild. I'm sure your crazy shippers online are having a field day with this little easter egg. Those people are insane. You two have known each other for what - not even four weeks?"
Okay. Maybe now would be a good time to just walk away. The book wasn't that important. James started to turn to leave.
"You're just going to walk away from me now, is that it?" Ingrid spat. "Is it because you know I'm right? You really think that emotionally walled up robot is going to do anything for you?"
James started walking. This was not going well.
"You've always needed help with your emotions. Even now you're just stuffing them down. I don't know why you keep regressing like this, but you have to listen to me," she went on. He could hear her starting to follow.
"You need to let yourself feel it. Let me help you," she said.
But James knew what that meant.
Her hand went to reach for his arm. He pulled away. She reached further, and he dodged her swipe, bending backwards. He expected her to try again, but she suddenly froze up, standing rigid and pulling her hand away as her eyes fixed on someone else.
James slowly stood up, not sure if this was some kind of trick. He didn't look to see who it was on the off-chance that it was.
"Hi," Eve's voice came from behind. "Is everything okay?"
Oh thank goodness. Someone was here. That meant Ingrid would hopefully be less insane.
"Yes, everything's fine," Ingrid answered before James could. "We were just having a--"
"One-sided argument," James butted in, taking a long step back from Ingrid.
Ingrid shot him a subtle glare. James, now at least out of immediate arm's length of Ingrid, looked over to Eve, who looked as she usually did: drowning in a loose dress with her tote of art supplies over her shoulder. That, plus a frown. Directed at Ingrid.
James wondered how much she saw.
"Well, the argument's over, now," Ingrid said more firmly. "That said, I don't think you and I have met. You must be Eve."
"Are you a visitor?" Eve asked evenly instead.
"Yes," Ingrid answered. "My name is Ingrid."
"If there's a problem," Eve continued, "you can take it up with Dante. He oversees visitor disputes."
Ingrid bristled, letting out a small sigh. She seemed to relax after a moment, but James was pretty sure it was just for show. He eyed the book still in her hand.
"No dispute here," she said.
Eve turned away, now locking eyes with James. "Do you want to take our language practice inside or outside?"
James briefly side-eyed Ingrid, who was clearly hiding her annoyance at Eve having turned attention away from her.
"Outside," James said. Even though they hadn't scheduled anything for today - well, they did now. If only as an excuse for him to get away from Ingrid.
Eve nodded, stepping away towards the main path to lead the way. "Alright. Let's go."
Relieved that it was that simple, James was happy to abandon the book for some peace. He followed after Eve, glancing at Ingrid over his shoulder. She didn't follow, but she did watch them with her arms folded, putting on a hurt expression, even though he knew she was really just angry.
Not wanting to rub it in or be unkind, James just gave her a small nod farewell, and then looked away, falling into step beside Eve.
"Was she giving you trouble?" Eve asked in Vietance, gaze strictly fixed ahead.
"A little," James admitted. "I was about to leave, but I'm grateful for your interference. I have a feeling she wasn't going to drop it."
Eve knitted her brows together, glancing at him. "Why was she bothering you?"
James let out a long sigh, and he looked up at the sky, letting a small pause pass as he wished for just like. One thing to go his way. Couldn't he have one day where something incredibly stressful or awkward didn't happen? It was always something.
Now he had to explain that his abusive ex-girlfriend was trying to hound him about his "feelings." Particularly about his most recent wendigo-related trauma. Woo-hoo.
And then there was the whole I-think-she's-trying-to-win-me-back thing. But that didn't need to be said.
"We were in a relationship three years ago," he said. "It ended poorly. Now she thinks she's here to fix me like she's my big intervention."
Eve paused, staring at him neutrally for a longer moment. "Oh," she said softly. Then added in Common, "If that's the case, her methods seem... unconventional."
James shrugged.
"It downspiralled pretty quickly," he said. "I wasn't exactly helping, either."
"Do you..." she began, trailing off, but then starting again. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's not much to talk about, really," James. "I'm not interested in reconnecting, and I've made that clear to her. She just doesn't like it."
"Oh, I know, I figured," Eve cut in quickly. "That's-- that's not what I meant. I just asked in case you..." She sighed, pressing her lips together again as she stared intensely on the cobblestone ground, following the path towards the gardens. "I'd like to know if you want to talk about anything, in general. In case you're interested. About anything."
James slow-blinked, turning to look at her for a moment.
Ah. She wasn't referring to what happened with Ingrid. She was talking about the last few days. The morning after the initial confrontation, Eve had come over and joined him and Shane at the cabin, keeping him company. Not much was said between the three of them, at least, on his part. But he'd taken comfort in their presence, even as he was admittedly very distant that day. He felt a little more grounded at present, but... still.
"You just have a lot going on," Eve continued on, filling the silence even though only a few seconds had passed at most. "I don't think it's fair that you do. Of course the DMV would bring in someone like Ingrid to cause you discomfort." She sighed, tilting her head down just enough so that thick strands of hair fell over her shoulder. "I just wish there was more I could do," she finished softly.
James turned to her, offering a small smile.
"Giving me an easy out back there helped more than you think," he said. "Things like that might seem little to you, but it was pretty big for me."
Eve exchanged a few timid glances his way, tucking her hair behind her ear. "...I'm glad it helped," she said quietly after a brief hesitation.
James smiled a little brighter, noticing that Eve seemed a little uncomfortably shy. He shrugged again, hoping to ease some of the awkwardness.
"Hey, any excuse to get away from an angry ex," James said. "It works."
"Has she been bothering you a lot?" Eve asked. "So far this week, I mean."
"Well, lockdown day aside, she has been going out of her way to find me," he said, thinking back to like, the few times he'd been out and about and somehow she always showed up. And then she came to his door, too.
It was all too convenient.
Squinting off ahead of them, he hummed.
"Now that I think about it," he said a little more confidently. "I think she might be stalking me. To some degree."
Eve's expression washed with grave seriousness as she stared at him, frowning with concern. "That's..."
"Not normal?" James offered. "Indiciative of, perhaps, a slightly unhealthy obsession?"
"Concerning," Eve finished instead. "Has this been happening nearly every day?"
"Well, it's only been three days," James said. "...Four. Four days. But yes."
"Four days of ruthless stalking and harassment," Eve said flatly with a disbelieving look.
"Calling it ruthless makes it sound like she's stalking with intent to kill," James said. "That person's not around anymore."
Hm.
Too soon? Too soon.
James grimaced at himself.
"Sorry. That was in poor taste," he said quickly.
"...That's okay," Eve said with a deep breath. She shook her head, brows creased together with even more worry. "This week has been so bizarre, but I've been saying this every week. And to think we're only one month into the summer."
James let out a long sigh, looking up to the sky.
Gods, it really had only been one month. Two more to go felt like two more years ahead of them at this rate.
"At the rate things are currently going," James said. "I'll have developed five new talents with all the stress I'm under."
A beat.
"Or I'll just die," he joked darkly, realizing that probably wasn't the most helpful thing to say when he saw Eve's genuine concern.
"I -- not actually," he said with a weak, forced smile. He patted his chest. "Can't actually die and all."
He wanted to add: "As far as I know," but figured adding doubts right after an attempted reassurance would give him a net zero effect.
Eve gave him a lingering side glance, sighing. "I hope not. Though with everything going on, it almost appears as if the DMV is testing this."
It took a significant amount of self-control not to go: "Nooooooooo, really?" in the most sarcastic was possible. Instead he said: "Yeah. I'm pretty positive it was."
Eve was quiet for a moment before softly asking, "Do you think it's all a part of their magic testing efforts?"
James pursed his lips in thought, then cast a look over his shoulder, noting a small drone that had been following behind them.
"Putting people with powers like mine under extreme stress and convincing them it's entirely real is not one of the most ethical methods of discovering the limits of one's magical capabilites, but it is arguably one of the oldest and most reliable," James said. "So. Yeah. I do."
And at that, it seemed he'd sufficiently killed the conversation. Because if it'd been going anywhere, Eve did not try to take it further, and they proceeded to walk on in silence.
For a moment, James wasn't sure how serious Eve was about actually doing a language lesson, or even hanging out in general. It'd looked like she'd had other plans until she ran into him and Ingrid based on her bag full of art supplies, but she also didn't mention meaning to go elsewhere either. Normally, James knew Eve to be a creature of habit. Even though he'd only known her for a month, she'd already become very predictable, save that one time she ran out of his house and disappeared that one time.
Hm. Maybe he should finally ask her about that...? Was now the time?
Speaking of, there were quite a few things he meant to ask her about. Like why Cyrin's (borrowed) dream magic hadn't worked on her in the maze. Why she'd suddenly stopped freaking out about the monster issue, when she'd been so visibly livid about lesser things prior. Why did she take control when he and Cyrin were coming back with Aaron? What was going through her head?
She was such a private person, James didn't really know. It was fine, considering how little they'd actually known each other, but there was something about it that felt more like secrecy than privacy.
It was... just an inkling, really.
Finally, they made it to the garden. For a moment, he'd forgotten they were going there in the first place, but when Eve found the nearest bench to sit down and rest, he had a bit of a moment. A "what am I doing with my life" moment. What a time to have one, if any.
"We don't have to practice language if you don't want to," Eve said, staring up at him. "But I'm open to doing so if you want."
James sighed. He'd spaced out for a moment, hadn't he?
"I don't know if I'm in the right headspace for it, honestly," he admitted. "I think translating will require more brainpower than I currently possess."
"Oh." She paused, straightening up. "That's okay. We don't have to do that." Another pause. "I can, erm... leave you to it, then. I just said that as an excuse."
"I know," he said. "But now that we're here, we can also just. You know. Talk. Like normal, instead of in vietance."
"...Right. Yes," Eve said slowly. "Normal."
"Unless you had other plans," James said with a shrug.
Eve shook her head and quickly added, "No. No plans."
"Yeah. Me neither," he said. "I haven't been up to much since the whole wendigo crisis. Besides my usual morning runs, eating everything in our cabin within reason, and uh..."
He paused, lifting up his hand and turning his palm upward.
"Practicing a new ability that developed after that whole confrontation," he said.
Eve stared at him with a slight inward draw of her brows. "A new ability," she echoed. "Related to magic?"
"Yeah," he said. "I was able to temporarily form a metal skin. Or shell. I'm still not quite sure how to describe it. Scales, maybe, though they don't look it when fully formed."
Eve furrowed her brows more, her stare increasing in intensity.
"I've been... practicing," James added. "Since it happened."
"Practicing forming metal skin?" Eve pressed.
James nodded.
She hesitated. "Can you do it at will?"
"Partially," James answered. "Right now I can only sustain it short-term on small portions of my body."
"Can you show me?" Eve asked.
James nodded again and lifted his hand up, taking in a deep breath as he set his focus on drawing from the metal beneath his skin. It took a moment, but he could feel the metal multiplying, stretching out of his bones, piercing through the skin to the surface. He was growing more familiar now with the sensation as it surfaced like scales at first, then it coalesced into a semi-rigid, metallic shimmer like a glove. He only formed it over his hand, making it look something like a gauntlet.
"I can keep this up for five minutes at most, right now," he said. "Less, if I were to do it over a larger surface area."
Eve kept her stare on his hand, her face stony and unreadable. "How did you discover you had this ability?" she asked evenly.
Too casually, James said: "When Constantine tried to bite me, my body said no."
"Your body acted in defense," she deduced softly.
"Yes," James agreed.
"And-- you said you've been practicing?" She lifted her gaze back up to meet his eyes. "Why?"
James could've given a completely transparent answer, but there were plenty of others that were truth-adjacent enough without being completely vulnerable, so he decided to filter a bit.
Especially with them being on camera.
"Better to understand an ability so I can control it," James said. "It's the responsible thing to do."
He curled his fingers into a fist, then straightened them again, showing the flexibility of the metal skin. Eve seemed fascinated by it, as she was staring at his hand very intently. A bit amused, he formed an "okay" sign with his fingers to see if she'd react at all. That only seemed to get her to bashfully look away instead.
"I hope it doesn't hurt," she said quietly, now too-focused on how the tulip bed in front of them swayed in the breeze.
James looked down at his hand, pursing his lips as he sighed through his nose.
"Not really," he lied.
That was one thing about this new power that was different, but bearable. Because the metal had to pass through his skin to form around it, his skin was always being pierced, to some degree. It was also constantly healing, so it was like a fight between his ever-reproducing skin and his immovable, metallic bone-matter.
It was a bit grotesque, it he thought about it, actually. The fact that his real skin was like a constantly moving fleshy mass underneath.
"At least, it doesn't--"
Suddenly, Ingrid sprang up out of nowhere like some phantom out of the bushes behind them and slapped her hand on Eve's shoulder. James felt his skin harden even more, as if Ingrid's sudden presence tapped into the same trigger Constantine had - to shield himself. The metal skin sprung up over his arms and shoulders, melding together up to his neck.
At the same time, James felt a spring of panic as Ingrid made contact with Eve's shoulder, knowing that it was only with the intent to alter something within Eve's emotional psyche.
But...
Eve stared at her hand for a solid second before quickly brushing it off, frowning with obvious distaste and annoyance. "Have you been following us?" she asked evenly, standing up and glaring at her.
"Something's wrong with you," Ingrid said instead, her gaze narrowing accusingly as she too, got to her feet, towering over Eve with intent.
Eve narrowed her eyes at her, and with a sigh, shook her head and turned away. "You are not worth our time. Let's go, James."
James sat stiffly, awkwardly stuck frozen for a moment as his brain processed the utter nonsense of what was occuring compiled with the mounting worry and confusion.
"I knew something was off about you," Ingrid went on. "My magic didn't work on you. Why?"
Eve only managed to take two steps away before she froze in place, whirling around with sheer confusion and indignance as her glare intensified towards Ingrid. "You used magic?" she hissed.
"Don't look so upset about it," Ingrid snapped back. "It didn't work anyway. I had a feeling it wouldn't."
Eve glared at her some more, and a stiff silence passed. She shook her head again, motioning a hand in front of James to grab his attention. "Let's leave," she said to him again, more urgently this time.
James finally got to his feet, shaking his head quickly as he came to her side.
"Of course," Ingrid said. "It's in character for you to keep making friends who keep secrets from you. Like that worked out before."
James cringed slightly, following behind Eve, who had started walking away at an ever-increasing pace.
It was a low blow, even for Ingrid, to insinuate Eve would end up being like Carter. And it was unfair to bring it up like that regardless. Still, though. It... stung. More than it should've, hearing it from her.
At the very least, Ingrid didn't follow this time. Not visibly, at least. He couldn't speak to how much sneaking she'd be doing after she was out of eyesight, but it felt like he and Eve had finally gotten some distance again when Eve came to a stop once more. Their hasty escape had since been spent in silence.
It was a long walk, though. Eve took James all the way back down to the beach, past the cabins, behind her own. That was where the stable was for the alpacas Clandestine, Hild, and Alan had been caring for, but James had never ventured there out of his own volition. At least, not until Eve led him there now. For some reason.
Perhaps she'd merely chosen it at random. Any place was better at the moment, it seemed.
Stopping outside of the outer fence, glancing at the lazing alpacas sleeping atop each other in the open stable, James wondered if he should just call it quits now and go home. Hide in his room again. It wasn't like he had places to be, anymore. After the hellish first month he'd had maybe it was better he just...
Well, isolation wasn't the goal, but it certainly seemed like a more foolproof method to avoid Ingrid again. She was becoming more and more of a nuisance with each passing day. And the fact that visitor's time was extended after the whole wendigo debacle...
Maybe it was a blessing for those who'd had loved ones come visit. But for him, it was at the least, incredibly inconveniencing.
But theeeeen Eve led them into the stable.
She closed the stable doors behind her, and it shut with a heavy thud. With the windows shut, it was quite dim in the shed outside of sunlight pouring out of the crack of the windows, but this was quickly remedied when Eve pulled on the string of a singular lightbulb in the center of the stable, flooding the room with light again. She stared at James, frowning with deep concern.
Why did this feel like a recurring interaction? Fleeing somewhere. Slamming a door, or a stone, or something behind them. Why did this keep happening?
"What magic does Ingrid have?" she asked, diving right into conversation.
James stared at her, frankly not quite on the same page.
He was tired. But he supposed she deserved to know this, at least. Considering Ingrid had harassed her.
"She can alter people's emotions through touch," James said.
Eve released an impatient sigh. "And from what I can see, she often does this without consent. Correct?"
"...Yes," he said. "Well."
He hesitated, not really sure how to speak about it now, since he didn't know how often Ingrid did it these days. There were instances he suspected she was trying to, but it was so hard to prove anything.
"Yes," he decided to say again for the sake of simplicity. "Sorry that she. Uh."
Well, he wanted to say he was sorry she'd done it to Eve. But from what he saw, it seemed like Ingrid tried, but failed. Which would've been a first.
"It didn't... affect you," he said slowly. "Right? You're okay?"
"...I think so. Yes," Eve answered, straightening up and forcefully relaxing her posture. "I'm okay. Are you?"
Not so easy of a question to answer these days, but he'd keep it simple, again.
"Yeah," he said. "Just sorry you got pulled into that whole mess."
"It's fine. Really. It's fine. It's not your fault," she said quickly, then sighed and crossed her arms. "I can't imagine what she tries to pull on you when you're alone. I hope she doesn't bother you too much while she's here."
James nodded, glancing over at the alpacas in the corner. Upon their entry, the alpacas had stopped napping and begun observing. Well. Staring, really.
Was it better than having a TV audience? With the alpaca's empty eyes locked on them, he wasn't so sure. But maybe his head wasn't in the right space.
"Yeah," he said a little slower. "That's why I've been trying to avoid her, best I can. It's easier to just... do that."
Though it was proving more difficult than he thought it'd be.
"That's why I took you here," Eve went on. "Though... your cabin is probably safer."
"If you think farm animals will be an effective Ingrid deterrent," James said. "You're quite sadly mistaken."
She had dated James for some time. And, well. James loved animals.
"It was more that there's some semblance of privacy here, while also staying enclosed. But... you're right, this isn't an Ingrid repellent." Eve rested her gaze at the closed doors, furrowing her brows. "We don't need to stay here. I just wanted to have a brief conversation with you. That's all."
James nodded.
"It's appreciated nonetheless," he said, then cast another glance at the alpacas, Lilly and Lolly. They were still staring curiously.
Eve nodded, moving towards the doors again to open wide. James hesitated again.
"Eve," he said quietly. "Why didn't Ingrid's magic work?"
She only managed to open the door an inch before she froze in place, stepping away to just barely let the doors fall into its closed position again. "She was quick to place accusations. Perhaps she used her magic incorrectly," she said steadily, slowly turning back around.
Well, that James knew wasn't true. Ingrid was incredibly skilled with her magic. That's why it happened so often undetected.
But it felt like Eve was deflecting. There was something else going on, and it felt oddly similar to a few of their prior conversations around magic. In particular, the instance in the maze, where she wasn't affected the same way.
James pressed his lips into a small frown, letting out a sigh.
The only things he knew of that interfered with regular magical occurences were anti-magic abilities or technology. If there was a third option, he'd never heard of it, but he had a feeling it wasn't that obscure. It was just... shameful, maybe.
James reached over and closed the stable door fully. Both Lilly and Lolly let out a bleat.
"What, is it something you carry on you?" he asked. "For protection purposes?"
"No. No, it's nothing like that. I don't carry anything like that," Eve answered apprehensively.
"It's fine if you do," James said. "I'd understand. A lot of people who run in circles with powerful magic-users do."
"What would that even look like?" Eve asked with a slight tilt of her head.
James blinked. "It's... okay, that's not what I'm trying to get at," he said. "What I'm asking is; do you have anti-magic belongings or powers?"
Eve stared at him. A second passed, then two, then three. And yet, she still didn't answer. But the silence was telling.
So. That was a yes, then.
James lifted his hands. "Okay," he said. "Clearly this is a sensitive subject, so, if it's--"
"I can't just tell people this!" she blurted out with a hushed voice, hands out in front of her with exasperated movements. "Not on a magic island full of magic users. Don't you know the stigma against anti-magic powers? This is the worst place to reveal or say anything!"
James kept his hands up, placatingly. "I'm not arguing with your reasoning," he said gently. "Nor am I accusing you. I understand why you wouldn't."
Eve took a steady deep breath, dropping her hands. "Please don't tell anyone," she finished evenly.
"Don't need to," James said. "It's not my business to tell."
"Then why-- who--" Eve began, then glanced at the closed door, starting again. "What are you going to do with this information?"
"Nothing?" James said. "If you must know, I only asked because I couldn't make sense of what was going on otherwise, but I'm sorry if it felt forced out of you. It honestly puts me at peace knowing that Ingrid won't be able to mess with you. And that anyone else won't be able to either, so far as magic goes. So. Hopefully you can believe me when I say I don't intend to do anything with this information."
Although this information should have relaxed Eve, she visibly deflated, weakly crossing her arms and staring intensely at the floor. "Do you really not care?" she asked.
"I might if you'd proven your character to be malicious and conniving," James said. "But I'd be wary of you regardless of your abilities were that so. As it stands, you've only shown yourself to be deeply caring and quite considerate. So I don't see any reason to worry."
Finally, her face softened, and her posture relaxed. Still staring at the floor, she dropped one hand to her side, contemplating his words. "Thank you," she said softly. "I trust you with this knowledge."
James let out a sigh, offering her a small smile.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "I know a lot of people in the world are afraid of anti-magic when they see it as a threat, but the same goes for magic-users in spaces where we're outnumbered by those without it. I don't think it makes sense to define someone by a trait they have no say in. I'd rather base my interactions off of gettin to know them as a person. At least, that's what I'm aiming for, to the best of my ability."
"...You don't let magic influence your connection to others?" Eve asked, stealing a glance towards him.
"People are more than the magic they carry," he said. "I'd like to think everyone can agree on that, but I know not everyone sees it the same way."
Eve slowly nodded. "I like that," she said sofly. "That's a good philosophy to live by."
James grinned. "It's not original," he said with a shrug. "But I like it too."
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