"Now for the voice," I said.
The fox’s ears perked up so fast I heard them swish through the air. "Oh! Oh! Let me do it!"
I blinked. "What?"
"The voice... You are making an alarm, right? Let me be the voice." She puffed out her chest, her silver fur bristling with importance. "I am a Moon Fox. I have dignity, I have presence. I have..."
"You have a tendency to chew on my belongings."
She ignored me. "I can say something grand that will strike fear into the hearts of demons and inspire courage in the hearts of allies. Something like..."
"Lazy cur?"
She deflated. "That was one time, and I was just born. Don’t forget it was your sister’s voice. I was just... sampling."
I sighed. "This alarm is not meant to wake me," I nudged the undead knight with my foot, "That’s what this one is for. It’s meant to remind me that there’s still a reason to keep going. I need it to sound like home."
The fox’s blue eyes softened. She padded closer and pressed her nose against my hand.
"I can sound like home," she said quietly. "I can be home... for you."
I looked at her, and I saw a small silver creature who had followed me through death and darkness, from the moment of her birth, and who had never once asked for anything in return.
"Alright," I said, and my voice was a little bit hoarse. "You can be the voice."
Her tails wagged so fast they blurred. "Really?!"
"Really. But it has to be something useful; you can be a bit too naughty sometimes. No random noise or weird jokes."
She sat back and tilted her head, thinking. Her ears twitched, and I could almost hear the gears spinning inside her head.
"I’ve got it," she said. "I’ll say: ’Elric. Wake up, the greatest Moon Fox in the world is hungry.’"
I stared at her. "That’s not useful, I mean, I am sure that is not even true. You don’t get hungry."
"Maybe I do get hungry. Maybe I’m just very good at hiding it."
"Your stomach doesn’t even exist. I’ve seen inside you."
"You have not... wait, have you seen inside me?!"
"I have the link. I see inside everything."
The fox’s fur bristled. "That is deeply violating."
"Welcome to the bond. You look into my mind, and I will look into your body."
She huffed, then went back to thinking, her eyes brightened when she must have figured out I lied about looking into her body. Then she remembered the task at hand, and her tail drooped dramatically, the picture of wounded dignity.
"Fine," she said. "How about: ’Elric. Wake up. The most Beautiful Moon Fox is bored."
"I did not know it was possible, but that’s somehow worse."
The fox bristled, "Elric. Wake up. The most Stunning Moon Fox is thinking about biting you."
"That’s not a wake-up call; anyone would agree with me that that’s a threat."
"Elric. Wake up, the Great and Terrible Moon Fox, Eater of Lightning, Killer of the..." and she got that far before she remembered she had not, in fact, killed anything the title would be named for, and went quiet, and then said, "We can work on the title."
I was getting a bit fed up with her narcissistic trait, and I cut her off, "Just say ’wake up. It’s simple and direct. There should be no threats or any other shenanigans; wake up is enough.’"
The fox looked deeply disappointed. "That’s so boring."
"It’s functional."
"Functionally boring."
I sighed again. "If you want, you can add something at the end. Let it be for yourself, so you are part of my home."
Her ears perked up. "Something like: ’Wake up, lazy cur’?"
"Don’t you dare."
"Too late. I’m already thinking about it. It’s living in my mind. It’s..."
"You... you..." I sputtered in anger, and the damned fox grinned, and I realized she had me.
"Fine," she said. "I’ll take out all the self-adulations; it’s your fault for not giving me a name earlier, Elric, if it is not clear enough. Oh, well, I will say... wake up, the fox is here.’"
I paused; this was not what I necessarily wanted, but it would have to do. Besides, if I die, I would redo this all over again, and there is always the chance to create something new.
"The fox is here," I repeated.
"It’s nice," she said. "It’s true. And it makes me feel important."
I reached out and touched her head, rubbing the soft fur between her ears. She leaned into it, her eyes half-closing in contentment.
"It’s perfect," I said.
I turned back to the orb. I carved the final script, the voice script, and held the orb near the fox, telling her to whisper into it, and she did. The orb pulsed once, twice, and then went still.
"Test it," the fox said, vibrating.
"Quietly."
" Test it. "
"Alright," I said. "Let’s test it."
I tapped the orb with my finger, triggering the script, expecting the soft voice of the fox that sounded like my sister’s, but what emerged was a thunderclap of sound that rattled the vats and sent the dead knight skittering across the floor.
"WAKE UP, ELRIC. THE FOX IS HERE. AND SHE IS VERY, VERY ANNOYED."
The fox’s voice amplified through a hundred link scripts until it hit the vaulted ceiling two hundred metres up and came back down as its own echo, and then that echo triggered the echo behind it, and the whole place rang like the inside of a struck bell.
The fox shrieked and vanished into my collar. I dropped the orb, and despite not carving any air-scripts on it, it was still floating, held by my Anima and the loud voice of the fox it was echoing.
I stared at the orb, its scripts glowing with an intensity I thought could power a small home.
"...Oops," I said.
The fox’s tails were so puffed that they looked like a silver cloud.
"Oops?!" she shrieked. "That was magnificent !"
"Magnificent? That was loud enough to wake the dead. Which, I should point out, is a problem, because the dead are already awake here."
As if on cue, I felt a cold wave wash over me, and I understood that the Sovereign’s attention had just fallen upon me.
"We need to go," I said.
The fox grabbed the orb in her mouth and hopped onto my shoulder. "I’m keeping this," she said, her voice muffled around the metal.