Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Berlintis burning, and all Twilight can do is watch.

WISE has failed in its mission.

The National Unity Party and their far-right allies have gotten exactly what they wanted: war with Westalia, where the goal was Westalia’s complete eradication or Ostania destroying itself trying.

And now, the latter had come to pass, with how badly Ostania’s leaders had underestimated—or perhaps, just ignored—the military might of Westalia and what its allies were willing to provide it.

There was no more Donovan Desmond. He had retreated into his undisclosed bunker when it seemed the tides were turning against him both domestically and abroad. His ultimate attempt to end the tension and his bouts of paranoia had only made him a pariah on all sides, made real enemies where he had only once imagined it.

There was no more National Unity Party or at least, politicians still willing to show their faces or speak to the public. The house of parliament was one of the first things to start burning, set alight by saboteurs or simply the citizens who needed to attack the fools responsible for destroying their lives as they knew it, futile as it was.

And there was not much more time left for Twilight, either.

In a way, he thought it was terribly appropriate he was dying from the shrapnel of an explosion, while he was his civilian get-up and trying to just get through the day while waiting on WISE’s next orders.

He was the legend of the intelligence community, the man who could take on any identity yet who was unknown to anyone outside of his allies, the spy who operated intending to come in unnoticed, do his job perfectly, and leave without a trace.

And now, he was about to die alone, unnoticed, and likely forgotten, as unlike the rest of the dead and dying around him, no one would come looking for his remains, there would be no funeral nor burial, there would only be a termination report before the administration destroyed what files they had for him to protect the rest of the agency.

Twilight was dying full of regrets. But, as his consciousness faded from the blood loss, the searing pain of the wounds in his gut began to fade, and the sounds of agony and misery around him began to blur into indistinct noise, there was one that got the lion’s share of attention:

“I failed to make a world where children would never need to cry.”

And then, he closed his eyes for the last time.

… But then, he found himself unconsciously opening them again.

(Am I dead?) Twilight thought to himself. (Is this the afterlife?)

If so, it was a lot more mundane and underwhelming than any of the educated guesses and scripture had said it would be. For one thing, it looked like the inside of an abandoned wooden shed, where Twilight had been laid down on an old rag on top of a bed of straw in a wooden box.

Almost immediately, instincts and training kicked in, Twilight checked himself and his surroundings.

In short order, he realized: he was probably no longer in Berlint, Ostania, his original three-piece suit had been replaced with something that fit a medieval gentleman more than a modern one, and that it was daytime wherever this place was, thanks to the light streaming in through the cracks in the roof (there weren’t any windows).

And when he got up and bumped his sock-clad toe on a loose board, Twilight figured he wasn’t dead or Hell had some very odd ways of inflicting pain and punishment indeed.

(I seem to be alive, beyond all logic and reason,) Twilight thought as he found some almost new leather boots and put them on. They were just his size and fit him perfectly like the cobbler had made them specifically for him. (That, or I’m having an incredibly lucid dying fantasy where for some reason, I’ve become a medieval European gentleman who found himself waking up in unusual circumstances.)

He thought of exploring the shed a bit more—until a desperate banging on the door stopped him.

“Help Anya…!” a young child’s voice cried. “Someone, please, help Anya…!”

Twilight scowled, irritated. Not even a few minutes into this strange new predicament and already there was trouble quite literally knocking on his door. He had half a mind to think that he had miraculously survived the bombing and been kidnapped by his enemies or that all of the war had been one long, lucid dream while he was in a stress-and-overwork induced coma.

“Please…!” the voice cried—it was a girl, no older than 4 or 5, Twilight guessed. “Anya's know someone’s in there! Please, help Anya, Anya promises she's not going to do anything bad…!”

Again, Twilight considered ignoring it. He had abused the kindness of strangers before and it was likely a truly terrible idea to be putting his safety on the line for a stranger when he didn't even know where he was or what was going on, to begin with.

But then, he remembered: his chief dying regret, the overwhelming emotions, pain, and helplessness that he’d felt in what was supposed to be his last moments, the memories of the first time he’d ever felt that nightmare and the years of hell that followed before it.

And so, with a determined grimace, Twilight rushed to the door, and undid the small latch that kept it closed from the inside.

The door swung open immediately and nearly hit him, a tiny little pink blur rushed in and hid behind Twilight’s legs.

“Thank you…!” she said, blubbering through tears.

He was just about to ask who she was and what manner of trouble she was in, until he realized yet more trouble was already coming out of the woods and the bushes surrounding this little shack.

Despite Twilight finding himself in what he assumed to be a completely different world from Earth, the looks and the auras of people clearly up to no good remained the same, it seemed. He scowled as he looked at the men and women in rough clothes and shoddy leather and cloth armor, all armed with crude, poorly-maintained weapons like clubs, swords, and knives.

“I don’t know who the hell you are,” said one of the thugs, “but give up the girl, all your money, and any other valuables you’ve got on you, and we’ll let you live. We don’t want to screw with no nobleman types.”

Twilight scowled. (Typical...) he thought.

He felt the little girl clutching tightly to one of his pants legs, Twilight looked down at her, put a hand on her head, and said, “Get inside, close the door, and make sure to get the latch back on. I’ll handle this.”

The pink-haired girl looked up at him with terrified, trembling green eyes before she quickly, nervously nodded, and let go.

Twilight stepped forward outside of the shack, the door was quickly pushed shut behind him. He heard the little girl struggling to reach up and get the latch but fortunately, it wasn’t that high up for her and he could hear it secure once more.

“Gentlemen, Ladies,” Twilight said coolly as he held up his hands. “I don’t know why exactly you’re after this young lady, but I can tell it’s going to be nothing good, and I just can’t abide by that.”

There were six of the thugs. All seemed poorly trained and used to fighting defenseless foes from their clumsy, open stances, made to look more intimidating than coordinated for effective fighting. And none of them were very amused by what Twilight just said.

One of the bandits spat. “Oh, real valiant hero type, are you? Typical for you rich bastards, talking out your asses about ‘morals’ while you’ve got those silver spoons in your mouths.”

"Why the hell do you care about this little brat? She something to you?” another one of them asked.

“In all honesty? No,” Twilight said, dropping into a low, wide combat stance. “She’s just a random little girl who just happened to run into the shack I found myself in. But regardless, you’re a clear and present danger to her and as she's come to me for help, it behooves me as an adult and a man to protect her from scum like you.”

All at once, the mood soured, and the tense air grew lethal as murderous auras radiated from all the bandits.

“You know what?” one of the larger bandits said. “We were planning to just knock you out and rob you blind, but I guess we’re going to have to kill you, too, for running your mouth.”

“Please,” Twilight said, gesturing them to come closer with one hand. “I welcome you to try.”

And with that, they roared and charged.

They were untrained but they were not completely without tactics. All of them were just as capable of injuring each other thanks to the reach and sharpness of their weapons and the wild abandon they’d likely swing them with, so only two rushed to flank Twilight while the others waited at the ready.

Twilight had already been creating a plan in his head, but as he focused his mind and blocked out all other unnecessary information, something strange happened:

Time seemed to slow down.

Not figuratively, as in he was moving faster than his conscious mind could process, but literally, as in the shouts and jeers of the thugs had slowed down, slurred, and become indistinct, as if he was watching all of this via a camera recording on half-speed or slower.

And as Twilight tried to move his arms to intercept the first of the two, he realized two more things:

One, he was still moving at normal speed, unimpeded, with full awareness and total control over his movements.

And two, he was starting to see glowing lines spreading out from his and the moving thugs’ bodies, like ripples on the surface of a disturbed pond.

(This is… interesting,) Twilight thought to himself.

Thug #1 swung, trying to smash Twilight in the side of the head with his club!

Twilight dropped low to dodge.

And as the club slowly arced towards his head, Twilight could see the same glowing ripples coming off of it.

Twilight’s training taught him now would be the perfect time to strike at his opponent’s unguarded stomach while he recovered. Now, the ripples seemed to be guiding him to do just that, he tried to move along them like a leaf caught floating on the surface of a pond until—

Punch.

His fist slammed into the thug's stomach, on his leather breastplate, and where his solar plexus would be underneath it.

And as the thug gasped and reeled in pain, his eyes went wide, and he lost his grip on his club, time seemed to rapidly be returning to normal.

Twilight grabbed the weapon as it fell and turned his attention to Thug #2, a woman with a knife clearly aiming to stab him in the stomach with it.

She realized Twilight had taken out #1, she hesitated but was moving too fast to stop.

Twilight began to dodge around her, time seemed to slow down again.

Thug #2’s movements were erratic, as were the ripples coming off her body.

Still, Twilight found the right current to move along, he slipped around her and she missed him completely. Then—

Crack.

Twilight smashed the club on Thug #2’s wrist.

From her ugly scream and the way she immediately dropped her knife and began to stumble, Twilight figured he’d broken it.

Time began to speed up again, the ripples were fading away to nothing, Twilight snatched the knife as it fell through the air. He caught it, expertly twisted it with his fingers, and was soon back in a combat stance, knife forward, club behind it to defend.

He looked up, the remaining 4 thugs were horrified, angry, or stunned, all quickly realizing that Twilight was not the helpless, unarmed nobleman they thought he was.

He glanced back, Thug #1 was in the fetal position on the ground clutching his stomach, Thug #2 was trying to crawl away, crying as she nursed her shattered wrist.

He looked at the shed, its door was, it had no windows and no other obvious entrances to sneak into unless the little girl was foolish enough to open the door prematurely.

Twilight found himself smiling despite the dire situation. Perhaps it wasn’t ideal, but at least he only needed to worry about 4 thugs, 2 crippled opponents, and 0 defenseless innocents.

“Fuck!” yelled another female thug, #3 by Twilight’s count. “Everyone, overrun him!”

Immediately they rushed in, uncoordinated and without a strategy.

If they hadn’t been scum who were clearly trying to hurt a defenseless child who was all alone, Twilight may have felt sorry about what he was going to do.

Having done it happened now, Twilight focused again, and just as he’d thought, he slowed time for himself again, the ripples were visible once more.

Thug #4 tried to come at him with a sword for an overhead slash, roaring to try and intimidate Twilight.

His voice seemed to cause its own set of ripples, angry and red, but they simply bounced off Twilight when they hit him. Undaunted, Twilight studied Thug #4’s movements and prepared his club hand.

With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the weapon, and a moment later (or perhaps, from their perception), it struck Thug #4 right in the head and temporarily blinded him.

Thug #4 stumbled and staggered, Twilight watched as he tripped right in the path of Thug #3, and they both tripped and tangled up with each other. Their both having bladed weapons meant they’d injure themselves in the struggle or have to be very careful while trying to get up.

Four threats taken out of the picture, for now, Twilight focused his attention on the last two:

Two men with clubs, #5 had nails and shrapnel hammered into it, and #6 had a nasty-looking hook crudely strapped with a metal band.

They seemed not to have noticed the others tripping over themselves or were already planning on flanking him, too.

Thug #6 swung his hook swung and tried to catch Twilight’s arm or his clothes.

Twilight saw the ripples coming from it, then swung his knife so it would catch in the hook.

Clang…!

The sound was quiet, muted, and drawn-out, to Twilight’s ears. He watched the two -sets of ripples exploding from the impact, he put more power into his knife, and watched as his knife's ripples canceled out #6's hook.

Surprised and caught-off guard, Twilight Thug #6's arm, spun the two of them around, then let go of him.

The thug went flying off and away from Twilight, flailing his arms to try and keep his balance.

Meanwhile, Twilight nearly finished his spin. He finally saw Thug #5 swinging his spiked club, sideways from the opposite direction.

It was almost guaranteed to hit Twilight if he were still a normal man with normal reflexes and reaction time.

But now, Twilight dropped his head and body low, the tip of the spikes and the edges of the sharp metal shards didn’t even graze or cut the strands of his blonde hair.

Once more, he saw the ripples coming from both their bodies. Twilight calmly studied their flow, the angles of their bodies, and when everything aligned—

Another punch.

“Oh…!” Thug #5 gasped, eyes growing wide before they started shaking and tearing up from agony.

Twilight pulled his fist back from the man’s crotch and tried not to think too hard about the series of visceral sensations he’d felt on his knuckles just now.

Thug #5 dropped his club, threw his hands over his crotch, and fell backward where he stood.

Twilight smoothly got back up, prepared to assess the battlefield once more—and got shot in the shoulder.

It was not from a gun with bullets, he realized, but from a crossbow with bolts.

And as Twilight felt the rapid onset of a painful tingling, burning sensation before total numbness rapidly spread from the wound, he realized the bolt was poisoned, too.

Twilight wavered. Even with the intense conditioning of his body, all his training and prior experience, and this mysterious new power could not save him from a weapon that was attacking him from the inside out.

He clutched the bolt to stabilize it as the numbness spread down his chest, his legs bent and his feet felt heavy, and finally, he lost balance.

Thud.

Twilight fell on his back, his free arm able to push him off his side before it lost strength completely. The iron grip his other had on the bolt’s shaft rapidly weakened as his whole body started losing sensation and strength.

“Fucking hell! Who even was this guy?!” yelled Thug #2.

“Who cares?!” Thug #6 snapped. “Just get the girl and let’s get out of here before he pulls up any more tricks from up his sleeves!”

“Relax, that bolt was loaded with Numbing Death,” said Thug #3. “I’d love to see him try and survive that.”

Once more, the sharp pain began to fade, the heat from the wound and Twilight’s blood rapidly cooled, and his vision and consciousness began to blur as the poison continued to spread into his lungs and heart.

“Open up the goddamn door, you little brat!” one of the thugs yelled—he could no longer tell who.

“Don’t bother—just bust it down, like this!”

Bang! Bang! Crack. Crash.

Again, the little girl screamed and cried.

“Nowhere to run, you little brat! We’ve got you now and no one’s left to help you anymore!”

“No! Go away! Help! Someone, save us…!” the girl cried.

Was this how it was going to end the second time around? Barely even into this new world, this new chance at life, and Twilight was going to die helpless, alone, and forgotten once more?

“Stop squirming or I’ll break your limbs, you fucking brat!”

“Don’t damage the goddamn merchandise before we get paid! She’s still a magia and the slavers want them undamaged physically, dumbass!”

As a strange power and renewed strength began to course through Twilight’s body, as he seemed to recover from the Numbing Death by sheer force of will, as he ripped out the poisoned bolt and the torn wound and damaged bone rapidly began to knit on its own…

… Twilight got back up on his feet and decided the answer was, “No.”

Chapter Text

Power surged through Twilight’s body—no, it overflowed from him. Several of his veins began to glow blue like his eyes, visible underneath his skin and partially through the fabric of his clothes. And his mind was more focused and faster than it had ever been before or after he’d arrived here, honed to one singular goal he needed to accomplish at all costs:

“I need to save her.”

Damn reason.

Damn practicality.

He was brought him here from Berlint, at the right moment, at the right time to save this little girl from these vicious human traffickers.

And if it was the first and last thing he’d ever do in this world, it would all have been worth it.

The thugs were too preoccupied with nursing their wounds with medicine from glass vials or getting the struggling Anya tied and secured to notice Twilight. Or at least, notice him before it was too late.

“Huh?” one of the men went. “Didn’t we just kill that guy?”

The next moment, he was shot dead between the eyes.

Twilight didn’t even think about the hand gesture he’d just done, how he’d somehow formed bullets of water out of thin air, and fired them with the force of a high-powered revolver.

One of the threats was completely neutralized and that’s all that mattered.

“Holy shit!” another of them screamed. “He’s a magia, t--!”

Twilight killed him before he could finish his sentence, in the same manner as the first.

“Fuck!” a female thug screamed, trying to reload the crossbow she had in her hand.

Twilight shot and destroyed it with two bullets before two more got her in the chest and through her armor.

“No, no, NO!” yelled one of them with a sword. “I’m not going to die to some fucking magia…!”

He roared and charged again, holding his sword in front of him this time.

Twilight sliced his hand through the air.

A wave of water flew out, sliced straight through the sword, through the man’s leather breastplate, and into his chest.

The thug staggered back from the impact before blood started gushing out of the wound and he collapsed.

Another thug gasped and tried to mimic Twilight’s club throw earlier.

Twilight caught it and with smooth, graceful motions, sent it flying back at an even greater force.

Crack.

It smashed the thug’s skull this time, he looked dumbly ahead before he dropped, too.

5 threats were neutralized.

1 threat was left.

Twilight turned to look and then stopped.

“Stay back...” the last remaining thug said, gripping the little girl tightly in one arm while the other held a knife to her head. “Stay back! Hands in the air! Don’t try anything funny, you hear me?!”

Twilight shot her in the head, too.

She seemed to still have more to say, her lips opened before she realized what had happened, her mouth fell open and stayed agape as she dropped.

The little girl squealed as they hit the dirt, she pulled herself out of the dead thug’s grip and then rushed over to Twilight, tears pouring from her eyes.

Twilight instinctively lowered his legs and grabbed her, scooping her up off the ground and pulling her to his chest, shielding her with his body in case there were more than 6 thugs in the area, he might risk getting shot and poisoned again.

And when there were no threats that he could sense, Twilight felt the mysterious power rapidly beginning to leave him.

“Anya and Mister are safe!” the little girl cried, pulling her face out of Twilight’s shirt. “Mister saved Anya from the Bad People! Thank you…!”

Twilight looked down, the little girl was smiling despite the tears staining her cheeks, the redness in those bright, innocent green eyes of hers.

He found himself smiling back… and then began to waver once more.

“Huh?” the little girl said.

Twilight had just enough strength to hold her up, keep from crushing her underneath his weight as he collapsed on his back, then put her down safely.

“NO!” the little girl screamed. “Is Mister dying again?! Please, don’t die! Don’t leave Anya alone…!”

Twilight felt his vision rapidly fading once more. “Run...” he whispered. “Get help...”

Then, once more, he closed his eyes, and did not know if he would open them again.

For the second time in what Twilight hoped was still just a day, he found himself waking up in an unknown location.

Now, he was on a proper bed, softer and better quality than the hay and the old rag for a sheet, but still far from the lap of luxury.

His original coat and shirt were gone, he was wearing a much simpler, cheaper shirt that didn’t fit him properly, likely because it was the only thing available. The rest of him was largely untouched except for his boots, which he hoped were waiting nearby on the floor.

And then, as if it was politely waiting for Twilight to get his bearings first, a wave of unpleasant sensations crashed into him.

Everything ached, he felt horribly thirsty, and incredibly weak, as if he had been beaten to an inch of his life, dehydrated, and starved till just a bit before he was going to die from any of the three.

Twilight groaned, and someone gasped.

“Mister's awake!”

“Where…?” he whispered before his throat hurt too much to speak anymore.

“Wait right there!" the little girl said, her feet quietly thumping on a wooden floor. "Anya's going to get help again!"

Twilight wanted an answer first but with how helpless he was, he grimly realized that he was probably going to be at the mercy of whoever this “Anya” was calling.

The little girl opened and closed a door behind her, it took a few more minutes before Twilight heard two sets of adult-sized footsteps coming up a set of wooden stairs. And when they entered the room, Twilight saw he saw a young man clutching a wooden tray and an older woman coming in.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re finally awake!” the older woman said. “We were worried you might have accidentally killed yourself trying to save your daughter from those criminals. Little Anya here was so worried, weren’t you, Anya?”

“So worried, Papa!” Anya cried as she rushed back to Twilight’s side and clutched one of his arms tightly.

“Papa…?” Twilight asked, blinking.

“Oh, dear,” the older woman said, putting a hand to her cheek. “I was worried about this! Just relax, sweetie, my son and I will take care of you, get some of your energy back, and hopefully the brain fog will clear itself right quick. I have a daughter who’s a magia just like you two, we know how you get when you push yourself too far, and how to get you back to normal, too.

“Jack, you got the milk and honey ready?”

“Yes, Mother!” said the young man, “Jack,” as he held up a teapot with a long spout. “Uh, open up your mouth, Mister, and don’t forget to swallow—I’d hate for you to choke.”

Without any other choice, Twilight did as he was asked.

Jack started slowly pouring the contents of the teapot—warm milk mixed with more than a generous amount of honey. It was insanely sweet, and any other time Twilight would have coughed it back up because it was borderline inedible. But, as naturally and instinctively as he’d used those mysterious powers earlier, Twilight started desperately drinking it up.

Despite how his mind and tongue balked at the taste, the rest of his body seemingly could not get enough of it.

Jack kept pouring until the teapot was nearly empty.

Twilight tried to push himself up from bed to suck on the leftover drops on the spout, before he caught himself, stopped, and began to sit up in bed instead.

As Jack put the pot on an end table nearby, the older woman laughed. “Ah, seems you like got a gut like a black hole, just like my Diana. I’ll make sure to cook up something that’ll fill you up like I filled up little Anya earlier, Mister. Jack, you go stay here and answer the man’s questions, I’m sure he’s got plenty.”

“Before you go, may I know your name at least, Miss?” Twilight said, now that his throat was better.

“Mrs. Pollina Paladia!” the older woman said, smiling. “You can just call me Mrs. Polly like everyone else or Mrs. Paladia, if you must insist on being formal. And you would be, Mister?”

“Loid, Loid Forger,” Twilight said, using his last fake identity for convenience. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and your son, Jack, Mrs. Paladia. I and my daughter are both grateful you’ve let us stay in your home and helped us despite being strangers to you.”

“Oh, please!” Mrs. Polly said, waving him off and blushing, “it’s all we could do to help a father just trying to protect his child! Anyway, I really should get cooking, all that is not going to stop the hunger pangs for very long.”

“Don’t let us stop you, Mrs. Paladia,” Twilight—or rather, Loid said.

As Mrs. Polly left the room and closed the door behind her, Jack sat down on a nearby chair, looked at Loid, and said, “So, uh, you want to ask me anything, Mr. Forger?”

"I'd appreciate you starting by telling me what happened after I passed out, Mr. Paladia,” Loid replied.

“Got it,” Jack said, nodding. “After you killed all those kidnappers and conked out, Anya here found the nearest road and started shouting for help. Luckily, one of our local rangers, Gazyl, heard her, followed her back, and then we found you.

“He signaled for help, then he carried you back to the road before monsters caught the scent of all the blood and put you two in danger all over again."

Loid quietly took note to investigate what he meant by “monsters” later. “And then what happened next?” he asked.

“Then, we got you on a cart and hauled you back here to town—welcome to Reinesburg, by the way. Though, we had some trouble getting you in past the gates.”

“There was a big meanie who didn’t want to let Papa in,” Anya said, puffing up her cheeks.

“Oh?” Loid asked, curious.

“That would be Al, the Captain of the Town Guard,” Jack said. “Please don’t hold it against her later, Mr. Forger, she’s just a little paranoid and thought you might have been a kidnapper, too. We couldn’t find any ID on you, you don’t look much like Anya (no offense), and that she was in rags while you were in such nice clothes raised a whole bunch of other questions, so she wanted to keep you in a gatehouse cell.”

“They let Papa in after Anya said Papa is Anya’s Papa, though!” Anya said proudly. “Anya wasn’t going to go into town or do whatever Adults said if Adults wouldn’t let Anya’s Papa in, too,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Thank you, Anya, that was a very good thing you did,” Loid said, reaching out and patting her on the head.

Anya giggled.

Jack smiled, too, then his expression turned serious as he said, “Al still wasn’t totally convinced, though, and she’s probably coming over later to ask you about who you are and what you’re doing here.”

“I’ll speak with her when she gets here, then,” Loid said. “So, you were talking about how I was let about to be let in through the gate?”

“Yeah, we let you in, and after Sister Tali, one of our local healers, said you were fine from the poison but completely exhausted your energy, we decided to bring you here instead of the temple."

“Because your sister’s a magia and you know how to deal with them?” Loid asked.

“Yep, and because we run a restaurant downstairs,” Jack replied. “If we knew you were going to be starving when you woke up, no better place, right?”

“I see. Thank you, again, for taking us in,” Loid said.

“You’re welcome,” Jack said. “Now, if you don’t mind, Mr. Forger, may I ask you some questions? Your brain fogs seem to pass a lot faster than my sister’s.”

“You may,” Loid said, nodding. “Now, Mr. Paladia, where would you like to begin?”

“If you’ll pardon my language: how in the hell did two magia like you end up here?” Jack said. “I promised Al Mother and I would have answers, too, and I’d be lying if I said we weren’t dying to know.”

“Well, Mr. Paladia, I’m afraid I have to warn you that it’s quite the dark and heavy story,” Loid said, reaching out to touch Anya’s back. “Anya might not want to say much or even hear about it, especially with how recently we just escaped another threat to our lives.”

He subtly gave Anya a meaningful look, one he hoped a girl as young as she would understand.

Anya looked back at him, wide-eyed and curious, before she gave Loid a look back, as if -she’d understand completely.

“Yeah...” Anya said, lowering her head and pretending to sniffle. “Anya… Anya doesn’t want to remember...”

“Ah, well, in that case, I won’t pry for now,” Jack said, holding up his hands. “You’re right, it would be unfair to you two.”

“Thank you, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said quietly as he stroked Anya’s back.

Jack nodded. “So… since that’s out of the question for now: what are your plans from here? Going to try and catch the ferry upstream to Port Illyria then try to start anew there in the big city? I mean, I’m assuming that’s where you were trying to get to before you ran into those bandits and lost your things.”

“I was thinking we might just try settling down here in Reinesburg instead, honestly,” Loid said, shrugging. “We have no money anymore, we’re foreigners from a distant land, and this place seems like a town full of good people.

“I also still need to pay you back for your kindness. You said you ran a restaurant downstairs? I’d be happy to cook, clean, and serve, especially while we’re looking for a permanent place to live.”

“Anya will help, too!” Anya said, cheerfully.

“Hah,” Jack said, smiling, “you don’t know just how happy I am to hear that, Mr. Forger!”

“Have you been lacking in helping hands, Mr. Paladia?” Loid asked.

“Constantly for the past year or so,” Jack said grimly. “I won’t go too long on it, but we used to have way more helping hands in the kitchen. It’s gotten so bad, that we--”

Crash!

Mrs. Polly screamed!

In an instant, Loid and Jack were bolting out of the bed or their seat, rushing out the door and down the nearby flight of stairs.

Anya blinked before she cried, “Papa!”, and chased after them.

“Mother!” Jack yelled, panicked, their footsteps thumping noisily on the wooden floors. “Mother, what—“ he stopped and whispered, horrified, “oh, no, not now…!”

Loid silently stopped behind him and examined the situation from the top of the stairs and over the railing.

Mrs. Paladia looked terrified, trembling as she held up her hands. On the floor were a broken wooden tray, a shattered bowl that was full of stew, and pieces of bread that had tumbled on the floor and quietly soaked in them.

Two muscular brutes in dress shirts and armed with clubs stood in front of her, one of them having clearly just swung his weapon at Mrs. Polly. Between them was a sleazy-looking man in a vest and a bowler hat.

The four of them noticed Loid and the others. Mrs. Polly looked both mortified and relieved, the brutes were ambivalent, while the sleazy man gave Loid the most horrendously unfriendly and suspect smile he’d ever seen in his life.

“Well now, is this our town’s new unexpected guest and his daughter?” he said, his eyes glimmering.

Jack sighed, Loid looked at him. “Get back upstairs and take Anya with you, Mr. Forger. I’ll handle Mr. Fitzroy.”

"Now, now, Jack, my boy!" Mr. Fitzroy said, scowling as he walked to the stairs. "Is that any way to speak to me? I am a representative of the good Lord Colwyn, I should at least be shown similar respect to him. And how rude is it, not to even introduce the man who's been the talk of the town all morning, now that we happen to meet face-to-face?"

“Mr. Fitzroy,” Jack said, frowning, “the man almost died trying to save his daughter from kidnappers just a few hours ago!”

“His ‘daughter’ or is that simply what he wants her to call him?” Mr. Fitzroy interrupted, looking at Loid directly now. “I’ve spoken with Captain Aleina earlier. She didn’t seem too convinced that this was a cut-and-dry case of a father prevailing over human traffickers. Rather, it’s a very well-dressed, very convincing, very dangerous fellow protecting his ill-gotten prize from other ne’er-do-wells.

“How are you so sure they’re even related by blood? They don’t look remotely the same to me, and you can only be so believable saying she takes strongly after her mother.”

Loid said nothing, let his face reveal nothing. He felt Anya clinging to his leg again, Loid looked at her and put a hand on her head. “I’ll take care of this, too,” he whispered.

“Well, Mister?” Mr. Fitzroy said, now standing at the base of the stairs with his bodyguards behind him. “Will you be launching into your passionate speech about how offended you are, that I don’t believe she’s your flesh-and-blood? Or shall I call Captain Aleina and have you detained like she wanted, while we summon the city guard from Port Illyria?

“They don’t take too kindly to human traffickers, you know? There’s such a constant problem that they’ve got plenty of experience sussing them out. And you should know they aren’t very kind to people that end up sheltering them, either,” Fitzroy said, looking at Mrs. Polly.

Mrs. Polly gasped, at a loss for words.

Fitzroy turned back to Loid and said, “But, they will show some mercy if you decide to make it easy for everyone and surrender yourself.

“I’ll even guarantee that the Paladias here are left unscathed—technically, they've only sheltered and not fed you just yet," Fitzroy said, glancing at the seeping mess on the floor.

Jack and Mrs. Polly both sweated and cowered, trapped.

Anya whimpered, clutching even tighter to Loid’s pant leg.

Fitzroy grinned like he was on the cusp of a well-deserved victory.

And Loid was silent, trying to figure out just how he was going to get out of this mess.

“DON’T DO IT!”

Everyone’s attention turned to Anya.

“Mr. Fitzroy's not going to do what Mr. Fitzroy says!” Anya said, panicked and wide-eyed. “Mr. Fitroy's not going to call Captain Al and put Papa in jail here in town, Mr. Fitzyroy is just going to take Papa straight to the city, tell the guard people Papa's a criminal and lie about having proof, and then Mr. Fitzroys going to say Mrs. Polly and Mr. Jack were hiding Papa and get them in trouble, too!

“Mr. Fitzroy's’s EVIL, don’t trust Mr. Fitzroy!

Fitzroy spluttered, confused, shocked, and angry. “What the--?! What a ridiculous accusation, you need to tame that imagination of yours, young lady!”

“Wild her imagination may be, but she has a point in that you’re not making yourself very trustworthy or pleasant, Mr. Fitzroy, threatening old ladies and strangers with punishment for crimes you can’t prove they’ve done,” a female voice said.

Again, heads turned to the double-swinging doors of the restaurant’s entrance, where a tall, lithe woman with tanned skin and pointy, knife-like ears had just walked in, a shiny, well-polished badge displayed prominently on her shirt.

With mixed emotions and enthusiasm, everyone but Loid and Anya cried:

“Captain Aleina!”

Chapter Text

The woman called “Captain Aleina” strode into the restaurant with the confidence, air, and calm of a high-ranking law enforcer who was ready to bring the full weight of her might. Twilight usually liked to avoid entanglements with police like her, but right now, he couldn’t have been happier to see her.

“Causing trouble for our residents again, Mr. Fitzroy?” Aleina said as she calmly, coolly strode up to Fitzroy and his goons.

Her steps were measured and controlled, her eyes were sharp, and she maintained just enough distance that none of them could have struck out at her without telegraphing a lunge or stretching their arms out to reach.

Loid made a special note to be even more careful about this woman: she must have been a soldier before this and clearly no stranger to violence, at that.

“Captain Aleina,” Fitzroy said, his voice calm but his face hiding none of his disdain, “if anyone here was ‘causing trouble,’ it would be the Paladias. As you're well aware, I and Lord Colwyn have been trying to get our dues as specified by our contract. And yet, they still continue the trend of being unable to make any payments, despite the many generous considerations we’ve given them for almost a year now.

“Not to mention, there’s their sheltering and trying to give aid to a kidnapper,” Fitzroy said, looking up at Loid.

“Suspected kidnapper, Mr. Fitzroy, suspected,” Aleina said, scowling and narrowing her eyes. “A very important legal difference, as I’m sure you’re well aware of also.”

“That matters even less than you’re making it out to be, Captain,” Fitzroy spat back venomously.

Aleina ignored him. “On a related note about criminals”--she pointed her hand at one of Fitzroy’s goons--”you, Sir, are guilty of causing property damage to the Paladias’ business. Unless you wish to force me to arrest you, then I suggest you or your employer make recompense to them before leaving the premises immediately.”

Mr. Fitzroy gasped, offended. “You want us to pay money to the tenants that have been refusing to pay their dues?!”

“Yes, Mr. Fitzroy, because I heard you ordering your bodyguard to smash this tray and the food that was on it,” Aleina said. “I’m certain Mrs. Paladia will be happy to give testimony, as will her son and her neighbors about how good and righteous she is to a judge.”

Mr. Fitzroy scowled. “You really want to go this far, Captain?”

“Yes,” Aleina replied. “If you continue to refuse to cooperate and compensate, I’ll be happy to arrest your bodyguard for his crime, then you’ll be legally liable as his immediate employer, and I’m certain that Lord Coswyn will be happy to hear that he’ll have to be paying your legal fees for however long this is going to drag on through the system.

“I am Fae, Mr. Fitzroy,” Aleina said quietly and ominously. “Lumen years are nothing to me. I will happily wait for generations of lawyers and judges to decide if that's what it takes.

“But, you don’t have the luxury of time and neither does your lord, so how about you just fork up the money, and let's call this case settled outside of court?" Aleina said, holding out her hand.

Mr. Fitzroy sighed before he reached into a pouch on his belt, produced a handful of metal coins of silver and bronze color, then put them in Aleina’s hands.

Aleina glanced at them then said, "Do you think I'm unaware of how much a wooden tray and ceramic bowls cost on the market, Mr. Fitzroy?"

Fitzroy scowled and handed over some more coins.

“Come now, Mr. Fitzroy, this isn’t even going to cover the cost of the ingredients you’ve wasted,” Aleina said. “They’re most certainly valuable assets to this business, you know. Or are you and Lord Coswyn hurting for money as well…?”

“I will have you prosecuted for extortion and slander, Captain!” Fitzroy shouted, turning red.

“Very well then, I'll be certain to counter that I was trying to get proper compensation for intentional and malicious damage done to the assets of a private business," Aleina said. "All the precedent I can think up off the top of my head says it will look very good, once we establish the facts that Lord Coswyn is the Paladias' landlord and you were acting as his official representative."

Fitzroy grabbed a handful of coins with a shaking hand, veins popping on the back. He looked like he was about to throw it at Aleina’s face before he caught himself, seethed quietly, and dropped them into the small pile in Aleina’s hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Fitzroy,” Aleina said, smiling as she pocketed the coins in her purse. It flipped into a scowl as she narrowed her eyes and said, “Now: leave.”

Mr. Fitzroy seethed quietly as he gestured for his bodyguards to come with him. "This incident will not be forgotten, Captain Aleina," he hissed as he walked past her.

"I would hope so because it seems like you keep forgetting how these things keep going for you,” Aleina replied coolly.

Mr. Fitzroy steamed as he left as he threw the swinging double doors open, his bodyguards followed him out one at a time, turning sideways so their incredibly broad shoulders wouldn’t bang up against the walls or the hinges.

And when it seemed like the three of them were out of sight and earshot, Aleina turned to Mrs. Paladia and asked, “Are you alright, Mrs. Polly?”

“Oh, shaken bad, but happy you came in just the nick of time, Captain,” Mrs. Paladia said, sighing.

“Good, I’ll help clean this up,” Aleina said, crouching to pick up the broken pieces of wood and ceramic.

“Let me do that for you, Captain!” Jack said, hurriedly coming down.

“Would you like to stay for an early supper, Aleina?” Mrs. Polly asked. “I have to get started on another batch of stew for Mr. Forger over there and a little more won’t hurt,” she said, looking at Loid still on the stairs.

“I would, thank you, Mrs. Polly,” Aleina said, smiling before she turned her eyes to Loid, too.

Loid subtly braced himself as he got the familiar feeling of being examined head-to-toe by an enemy, someone who was keen on finding even the slightest flaw, weakness, or slip-up to exploit to the fullest.

“It’ll give me an excellent opportunity to talk to him at length about who he is and what he’s doing here in Reinesburg with his daughter, Anya. You won’t mind, do you, Mr. Forger?”

Loid smiled pleasantly. “Of course not, Captain Aleina. Just let me get my shoes, I’d hate to dine with an officer of the law in my socks.”

“Very well, then,” Aleina said, nodded. “I’ll be at my usual seat, Mrs. Polly.”

“Anya,” Loid said quietly as he put his hand on her shoulder. “Come back to the room with me.”

“Mm-mhm!” Anya mumbled nervously before she followed after Loid, still clinging onto his pant leg.

It made Loid’s gait awkward but he bore with it. The events had clearly rattled Anya and she desperately needed the comfort.

They got back to their room, Loid finally saw that his boots were at the foot of the bed, forgotten in the rush earlier. He tried to sit down on the side of it, coaxing Anya to let go, but she simply refused to.

“Anya?” Loid asked. “Can you let go, please?”

“Captain Al’s planning to take Papa away from Anya,” Anya whimpered.

“You could tell from the look in her eyes too, huh?” Loid said, frowning.

“She doesn’t believe Papa is Anya’s Papa,” Anya continued. “She wants to arrest Papa and take Anya back to an orphanage. Anya doesn’t want to go back to an orphanage!” she shouted, tearing up now. “Then the Bad People will find Anya again…!”

“The Bad People…?” Loid asked. “You mean the people that were chasing you?!”

“No…!” Anya said, clinging even tighter to Loid’s leg now, her little nails digging desperately into the fabric and Loid’s ankle underneath. “Other Bad People! The Really Bad People…!”

She was on the verge of breaking down into tears now. Shocked and concerned, Loid quickly reached down and patted Anya on the back. When her sniffling and trembling had subsided somewhat, he gently asked:

“Anya: I know this is very scary and very awful for you, but I need at least an idea of what the Really Bad People did to you.”

“Huh…?!” Anya asked as she looked up at Loid, shocked, scared, betrayed.

“We’re going to need to lie to Captain Aleina, and to make sure that she believes us, it needs to be based on a little bit of the truth,” Loid said, looking her in those sad, fearful eyes. “Papa will try—no, Papa is going to protect you, but Papa needs you, Anya, to help Papa protect Anya, okay?”

Anya looked horribly conflicted and stressed out.

It was an expression Loid knew all-too-well: a person trapped between two different horrible options, with no other recourse.

Then, Anya slowly looked down, hiding her face from Loid. “The Really Bad People… did things to Anya… magical things… Anya doesn’t know what… Anya doesn’t want to remember…!” she finished, trembling again.

Unlike earlier, Loid had no doubt Anya meant it honestly this time.

“Alright, Anya, that’s enough,” Loid said quickly. “I can work with that.”

“Papa can protect Anya now…?” Anya asked, sniffling.

“Papa will protect Anya,” Loid said. “Now, Anya, let go of my leg, please, I need to get my shoes on. We can’t leave Captain Al waiting or else she might get even more suspicious of us.”

“Okay, Papa...” Anya muttered, reluctantly letting go.

Loid had rarely ever put on and laced up his boots so fast, the only other times he could remember having moved with such speed and efficiency was back when he was a soldier and the base was under or on fire, possibly both. And when he finished, he scooped Anya up and held her in the crook of his arm, she clung to it and rested her head on his shoulder.

Loid made a point to go head down the stairs silently, but still, Aleina was looking right at them as soon as they were visible, as if she had been waiting.

“Captain heard Papa and Anya talking upstairs,” Anya said quietly.

“Do you think she understood?” Loid replied just as quietly.

After a brief moment Anya said, “No, Captain was already talking to Mr. Jack and Mrs. Polly.”

(Well, that makes things easier for now,) Loid thought. (Though, it’ll certainly be something to think about the next time I’m going to be dealing with Captain Aleina. Just how sharp is her hearing…?)

“Mr. Forger,” Aleina called out. “You’re back. You certainly took a while to get your shoes on. Accidentally put them on the wrong feet, I presume?”

“I haven't yet had time to mark them 'Left' and 'Right' but no, Captain, I did not mistake them," Loid replied as he stepped off the stairs. "I was trying to comfort Anya here. As you might expect, all this ruckus and recent events have rather frightened her."

“Mm,” Anya whimpered quietly.

“No child should have to go through any of all that happened to you two, magia or not,” Aleina said, frowning and shaking her head. Then, she returned to her professional mode and gestured to the seat across hers: “Please, Mr. Forger, take a seat and let’s talk. Jack has already filled me in on most of what you’ve told him and I’d like you to expound upon them.”

“At once, Captain,” Loid said as he walked over to Aleina’s table and sat down. “Anya, would you like a seat?”

“No,” Anya said. “Anya doesn’t want to let go of Papa. Bad Lady may take Papa away from Anya.”

“Bad Lady…?!” Aleina gasped, offended and horrified both.

“Anya is scared of anyone she thinks might try to separate us again, Captain Aleina,” Loid said. “Please, forgive her, she’s just a child and she’s been through too much already,” he added, stroking her back.

“I see,” Aleina said, nodding slowly before she turned to Anya. “Please, believe me, Anya, I’m not trying to take your Papa away from you! I just want to know if there’s not going to be any trouble following you two here to Reinesburg and getting the rest of the townspeople caught up in it.”

“Papa doesn’t cause trouble!” Anya said, pulling away from Loid’s chest and looking angry despite the redness and puffiness around her eyes. “Papa solves trouble! Before and now, too!”

“I know,” Aleina said, holding out her hands. “Your Papa’s strong. Very, very strong. I would love to have both of you around here in Reinesburg. But it can’t be with such serious, important questions hanging over you two.

“We may not be as infamous for it as Port Illyria, but we’re just downstream from it and we take in all kinds of people from questionable backgrounds and dark pasts, too. All we ask is that you trust us enough to tell us about them, so we’ll at least know what you and we might have to deal with eventually.”

Anya grumbled, looking at Aleina with an unamused expression before she turned back to Loid and resumed clinging to him.

Though Aleina’s professional, sympathetic expression mostly held up, Loid caught the brief flash of frustration and disappointment before Aleina could fill in the cracks.

"So, Captain, what did you want to know, exactly?" Loid cut in as he adjusted his grip on Anya.

“Confirmatory questions first, few as they are,” Aleina said, pulling out a small, leather-bound journal from one of her pockets and a pencil, too. “So, according to Jack, you two are from a ‘distant foreign country,’ attempted to immigrate to Port Illyria, but ended up getting attacked by bandits and were robbed in transit, but you managed to foil them, Mr. Forger?”

“Yes, Captain Aleina,” Loid said, nodding, “that is what happened.”

Aleina scanned through her notes before she nodded. “Alright. That coincides with what Jack told me. Now, forgive me for prying, but I’m afraid I can’t be nearly as considerate as Jack was:

“Where are you two from and just who are you, Mr. Forger?” she said, looking up from her notebook and narrowing her eyes at Loid.

“A distant country which I would like to not name as we have been actively trying to cut and obfuscate our old ties with it, and aside from being Anya’s father, I was a butler for a noble house, who I left in unpleasant and hurried circumstances," Loid said.

“Running from the law, then, or looking for sanctuary in a foreign country?” Aleina asked.

“The latter,” Loid said, looking straight into Aleina’s eyes, his expression betraying nothing.

“And what or who were you fleeing from?” Aleina continued.

“People who had or want to steal my daughter away from me again,” Loid said, grim determination in his eyes as he hugged Anya with his other arm.

“So there were other human traffickers who targeted you?” Aleina said.

“Yes but only one group was successful," Loid said. "They were the first and hopefully the last if I have anything to say about it."

“So is that why Anya is in rags while you’re dressed so richly?” Aleina asked.

Loid nodded. “There wasn’t time to shop for new clothes, nor could I have afforded it while I was busy stretching what money I could take with me as we fled for Port Illyria.”

“And yet you can’t tell me what country you fled from?” Aleina asked.

“I’m afraid that they might have eyes and ears even here, I don’t know their reach or their methods exactly,” Loid said. “It’s highly unlikely but it’s not impossible.”

“You make it sound more like you were a former spy than a former butler, Mr. Forger,” Aleina said suspiciously.

“When you’re constantly privy to the conversations of nobles behind closed doors and treated as invisible until summoned or needed, the lines between spy and servant blur, Captain Aleina,” Loid said.

“Yet still, you’re incredibly skilled with combat magic,” Aleina said. “Unarmed, 1 against 6, with your only injury being a surprise attack that ultimately failed to kill you, by Anya’s recounting.”

“I was a soldier for my country before I became a noble’s servant, Captain,” Loid said. “Skills and power I assure you I will not hesitate to use should the worst come to worst and the trouble hounding us comes knocking on Reinesburg’s gates.”

“In all honestly, Mr. Forger, I’m concerned about you being the trouble we already have let into our gates,” Aleina said. “But, I digress.”

“What else do you wish to ask me about, then, Captain?” Loid said.

“I was thinking I would like to question Anya next, actually,” Aleina said, turning her attention to her.

“Anya’s not going to lie, even if Anya wasn't a little kid,” Anya said, scowling.

Aleina looked surprised. “I wasn’t—never mind,” she said, shaking her head before the serious face was quickly plastered back on. “Anya, is this your Papa?”

(Say “Yes,”) Loid thought.

“Yes,” Anya said, nodding.

“Was your Papa telling the truth?”

(Say “Yes.”)

“Yes,” Anya repeated.

“Did he tell you to answer my questions like this?” Aleina asked.

“Yes, but that’s because Bad Lady doesn’t believe Anya or Papa!” Anya screamed.

Loid thought he saw sparks shooting out of Anya’s eyes—then, he realized, the sparks were real , surges of electrical current crackled from Anya’s hair and the mysterious cones on her head.

Aleina held up her hands. “Anya, please calm down--”

“Anya's not going to calm down!" Anya screamed, scowling and tearing up again, and the electricity started to violently spark and flash. "Bad Lady trying to take Anya’s Papa away from Anya! And Anya’s not going to let you…!”

“Anya—“ Loid reached out to her back, a current jumped and shocked his hand, he pulled away crying, “Agh!”

“Papa will protect Anya from the Bad People…!” Anya screeched, floating up out of Loid’s grip now as electrified gusts of air appeared on her feet. “And Anya will protect Papa from the Bad Lady, too!”

Aleina stared, stunned, scared, and at a loss of what to do.

“She’s going into overload…!” Jack yelled from the side. “Mr. Forger: do something!”

Without any knowledge about magia, what “overload” was exactly, or how a parent was supposed to treat their child’s super-powered temper tantrum, Loid did the only thing that came naturally to him:

He lunged for Anya with both arms, hugged her, and turned her away from Aleina.

And for better or worse, the gigantic electrical Anya was building discharged into Loid, shocking him stupid but leaving everything and everyone else unscathed.

Loid had been electrocuted before. But he’d never felt a current running through the entire length of his body with such malice , as if it were alive, sentient, and intending to inflict as much damage and suffering as it could until it ran out of power and destroyed itself or its target.

“MR. FORGER!”

“PAPA!”

Loid fell out of his chair and fell on his back, sparking and jerking violently. Despite his white-spotted vision, he saw that Anya was still floating after he let go of her, Mrs. Polly grabbed her soon after that with no ill effects. And horrifically painful and distressing as all this was, Loid was glad for one thing:

He didn’t black out this time.

Chapter Text

“Spirits of Earth, I call for your aid,” Aleina recited as she knelt over Loid with her hands hovering over his chest. “I beseech thee: mend what is broken, replace what is lost, grant this one your strength and stability, so this one may stand proud once more. This I humbly ask in the name of the Earth Mother, Granhelia.”

Loid’s consciousness was fading in and out.

He hadn’t felt this awful since his training days in the Westalian army or later, WISE, when his superiors were keen on working him to the bone, exhausting him till he was barely able to move, yet still have him push on even further than give up.

Loid found this time, he could not push on, probably because he had never been hurt this badly before.

He was starting to see stars—no, wait, that was just motes of yellow-brown light rising from the stone floor of the ground level. Were these the Spirits of Earth that Aleina was praying to? They were floating up towards her hands then gently floating down into Loid’s body, glowing brightly once before they disappeared completely.

Slowly but surely, Loid felt his body regaining strength, the intense, throbbing pain gradually disappearing, and sensation and control returning to his limbs, starting from his shoulders and near his waist going down to his toes and his fingers.

It went on for several minutes, Aleina repeating the original prayer or similar variations. Was this some sort of healing ability, like the one he’d unconsciously used on himself when he saved Anya? Was Aleina not that good at healing or was this simply the speed and efficacy of normal healing, one that wouldn’t leave the healer so exhausted and starved they would be unconscious for hours after?

He’d need to ask about that soon, these healing magics and other means of recovery.

With the existence of Numbing Death and a probably uncommon-but-not-rare amount of people capable of harnessing the elements with just their bare hands, Loid would probably need all the means of supernatural or normal medical treatment he could get his hands on. He had a sinking feeling that the list of dangers that could down even a legendary former spy like him was only going to get much, much longer in time.

Eventually, Loid’s vision stabilized, he groaned and began to push himself off the floor.

Aleina pulled her hands off him and kept them close to her body as if she didn't even want to be seen touching him directly.

Jack came over and offered his hand, Loid grabbed it, and the two of them grunted as Loid got back up on his feet. Loid stumbled slightly, Jack held him tightly, but Loid got his footing back immediately.

“Papa!” Anya cried as Mrs. Polly held her. “Are you alright?!”

“Papa’s alright, Anya,” Loid said slowly as he looked at her.

“Goodness me, Mr. Forger," Mrs. Polly said as she approached. "You wouldn't have to have Yamakara blood in you, do you? I've never seen someone take so much punishment in a single day yet still be able to get back up like this.”

“As I said to Captain Aleina earlier, I used to be a soldier," Loid said. "Anyway, Anya: are you alright?" he said as he reached out to her.

Anya looked at his hand then flinched. It seemed she’d exhausted most of her energy earlier but he could still see little sparks from the cones on her head.

Loid slowly reached out, wary of another shock, and when he found none, he gently patted Anya on the head.

Anya gasped, surprised before she looked at Loid with puffy, red, tear-stained eyes.

“I don’t hate you, Anya,” Loid said as he slowly moved his hand back and forth. “It was an accident.”

“M-mm...” Anya said, looking down before she closed her eyes.

Loid smiled until a violent, painful sharp sensation in his stomach had him nearly bent over from agony.

“Papa…?” Anya asked before her stomach groaned, too, as if responding to Loid’s.

“Don’t worry,” Mrs. Polly said, “they’ll be more than enough food for all of you in a minute. Jack?”

“On it, Mother!” Jack said, heading into the kitchen.

“And Captain Aleina?” Mrs. Polly said as she turned to Aleina, her eyes narrowing and her tone sharpening.

“Y-Yes, Mrs. Polly?” Aleina said.

“You’ll be joining the Forgers for their meal, won’t you?” Mrs. Polly asked. “Nothing helps soothe ruffled feathers like an apology before sitting down at the same table, after all!”

Pleasant as the words were, all of it was spoken like a threat.

“Of course, Mrs. Polly!” Aleina said, clutching her hands together and nodding before turning to Loid. "Mr. Forger, I'm truly sorry for what happened, and thank you for saving me, and Anya, I'm so sorry for doubting you. I now believe wholeheartedly that you're father and daughter and nothing is going to convince me otherwise."

Loid was too hungry to think of anything to reply with.

Despite looking miserable, Anya said, “Bad Lady is telling the truth.”

Aleina winced at the name but offered no protest.

In short order, Loid, Aleina, and Anya were all seated at a four-person table. (Anya had a booster made of wood like the rest of the furniture.) Jack served up a giant pot full of hearty stew that was mostly full of what looked like chopped root crops, some kind of poultry, with herbs and cheese sprinkled on it.

Jack ladled up Loid a bowl that looked like it was for serving a table or for several diners to share, but Loid picked up his spoon and started to devour it by himself.

Loid was used to eating like an athlete. Being a spy was demanding work that needed him at his best at all times, both physically and mentally. It was part of why he had learned to and then perfected his cooking skills: so he could always feed himself if only raw ingredients were available and never have to settle for sub-par sustenance, no matter where he found himself and what limited tools and ingredients were available.

He was used to being hungry, too, and also of being starved, intentionally or unintentionally.

But now, he was ravenous, as if his stomach had transformed into a vicious monster that demanded it be fed or it would not hesitate to start devouring Loid himself were it not satisfied.

His stomach demanded a second bowl, Loid gnawed on an entire half-loaf of bread while Jack hurriedly ladled it in. Even then, by the time Loid soon regained his control, he was certain he could have eaten a third serving with no ill effects and fit in a fourth if he really wanted to.

Was this, quite literally, the price of a magia’s power?

He hoped this world was even more bountiful than earth ever could be because he would never forgive himself for literally eating the Paladias out of house and home. And what of Anya? How much more voracious would she become, once she inevitably started growing?

This was going to be a problem and finding a new source of income was more dire and important than ever.

He was so lost in his thoughts he hadn't realized that Jack and Aleina were both looking at him with concern and a bit of unease.

“… Sorry,” Loid said as he picked up his handkerchief and wiped his mouth. “I haven’t eaten all day, what with all that’s happened.”

“Uh… huh...” Jack said, nodding slowly. “Umm, so you know, we don’t mind you snacking from the bread box and the nuts jars come late night, but just don’t raid the pantry...”

“This was just for today, I swear,” Loid said.

He hoped that he wouldn’t be lying, if unintentionally. In the meanwhile, Loid decided to focus on mopping up the leftover stew with bits of bread. He was going to skip the third serving and just make the most of this one.

And as he did, he noticed Anya eating rather messily and happily, using her spoon and her hands as was convenient to her.

He made a note to teach her proper table manners soon, once he was earning enough to at least feed themselves reliably.

The afternoon grew late, and the Paladia's usual customers started coming in for supper. There was some small conversation with Loid introducing himself and Anya, filling them in on what happened, but otherwise nothing much of note was said nor was there anything to worry about.

They were simply small-town residents eager to get the latest gossip, was all.

Meanwhile, Aleina thought this was a good time to leave, especially since Fitzroy and his goons didn’t seem to be coming back any time soon.

Mrs. Polly was back to cooking, Jack was clearing plates and taking orders, so Loid volunteered to see Aleina out. He carried Anya with him in one arm, as she insisted on coming with him.

They stepped out of the double doors, Loid finally saw his first glance of Reinesburg and the Paladia House from the outside, all bathed in a yellow-orange glow.

Loid had figured Reinseburg was a town built on a river, but seeing it now, it reminded him of Venice, Italy. It had at least two large natural streams and an extensive series of man-made canals with bridges to cross over them, stairs to go down into the water, and rails so people wouldn’t accidentally fall in.

The buildings were all on solid, rocky ground or artificial foundations built of stone and concrete. They were all tall, 2-3 stories high, their exteriors painted various shades of bright colors (likely for resisting moisture), their windows large with wooden shutters, and their roofs slanted and made of tile with gutters, pipes, and tanks for collecting rainwater or directing it down to the nearest canal or the river before it flooded the walkways.

There didn't seem to be much native plant life growing on the ground or fertile soil for them to take root in, it all seemed to be near the water and the docks like moss, aquatic plants, and fungi. Everything else seemed to have been brought in elsewhere, with rooftop or patio gardens full of vegetables, hanging boxes of herbs outside of windows, or trees in raised planters along the walkways.

It was quiet outside of this stretch of the neighborhood, where the Paladias and several other food shops and restaurants were built clustered close together. The rest of Reinesburg’s businesses were closing up, products and tools were being secured for the night, and he could see a large ferry carrying weary commuters home, probably from their jobs in Port Illyria.

“Welcome to Reinesburg, Mr. Forger, Anya," Aleina said as quietly. "Personally, I prefer the sight of it first thing in the morning but the early evening is beautiful as well."

“It is,” Loid said, nodding. “I think I’d like to take a stroll through here just to see the sights then.”

“Careful you don’t fall into the Reines River when you do,” Aleina said. “Just because the town guard is very good at fishing people out before they drown or get swept too far off, doesn’t mean we enjoy it.”

“Perhaps you should consider turning it into a sport? The Reinesburg River Rescue Relay?” Loid joked.

Aleina laughed. "The name rolls off the tongue, the idea not so much." Her smile faded and her expression turned serious as she said, "I'm very, truly sorry again for my behavior earlier, Mr. Forger, Anya. I let my emotions cloud my judgment, I acted horribly unprofessionally, and hurt both of you, it was so far and against how a captain should act.”

“I should have never doubted that you were family with how clearly you would both go through storm and flame for each other, and I'm ashamed that it got to that point of serious injury for me to realize the error of my ways. I hope you two can forgive me,” Aleina finished, bowing her head.

“Promise me that you won’t pry into our pasts unless it becomes immediately relevant for the safety of Reinesburg and its people, and I will, Captain,” Loid said.

“You have my word,” Aleina said looking up and putting a hand on her chest. “I swear on the name of the Earth Mother, Granhelia.”

“Thank you,” Loid said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think Anya and I both need to rest up.”

“Before you go, though, Mr. Forger: I must tell you that I’m coming back to see you tomorrow morning,” Aleina asked.

“For yet more questions?” Loid asked testily.

“No,” Aleina said, shaking her head, “to process your citizenship applications, so we’ll be prepared if Mr. Fitzroy decides to come back here and start accusing you of being fugitives again, and so you two can start formally living here as Reinesburg’s newest residents.”

“Ah,” Loid said. “Thank you, I would appreciate that.”

“I presume you can read and write, Mr. Forger?” Aleina said.

“Yes, but I would like a representative, just in case, to help explain it to Anya and if my writing hand fails me tomorrow morning,” Loid said, looking at his free hand.

Aleina had fixed most of the serious damage, he was certain, but it seems she couldn’t fix all of it, as evidenced by the pale Lichtenberg scar there.

“I'll make sure to come with someone from the town hall, then," Aleina said. "I'll leave you two be now. Good night."

“Bye, Bad Lady,” Anya said, waving.

Aleina winced.

“Anya,” Loid said, “I can understand you’re upset with her, but at least call her Captain.”

“Bye, Bad Captain?” Anya asked, confused.

Loid frowned. “Not quite right...”

“… I’ll try to prove I deserve a better moniker...” Aleina said, heading for a nearby set of stairs leading down into a canal.

Loid watched as Aleina got into a small boat and then put her hand on what looked like an engine. Aleina's hand glowed the same shade of yellow like her eyes, the lines carved on the engine and the crystal in its center lit up in the same color, and then she was puttering off along the water.

(Interesting,) Loid thought. (They seem to have motors, engines, and industrial-level technology but they're seemingly limited to magia and other beings capable of using this "magic." I'll need to see if they have any books about or other sources of information.)

Then, he remembered: could he read and write this world’s language?

He turned around and looked at the sign on the Paladia House.

“Paladia Family Restaurant”

Though the script was unlike anything he'd ever read or seen in his life despite having flown to and operated at almost all corners of Earth, he could read it perfectly and separate the characters and sounds in his head, he was confident he could write it and anything else he needed to.

(At least I won’t have to explain why a former nobleman’s butler suddenly lost his ability to read and write…) Loid thought to himself.

“Anya knows how to read and write!” Anya said proudly. “Kind of.”

“That’s very helpful to know, Anya,” Loid said, patting her on the head before he went back into the restaurant.

It was rapidly getting busy, the dining area filled up with customers, several of them waiting for their orders or drinking from tall mugs of what looked like beer and other forms of alcohol. Jack was in and out of the kitchen and around the tables, stopping only to take orders or when someone called him for help, while Mrs. Polly was constantly moving around in the kitchen, never in one place for long.

Loid thought of helping them out but Anya was already looking incredibly sleepy, and he was getting exhausted again too, he realized.

And so, with a quiet apology, he headed back up to the room they were using. The sunlight was fading, and artificial lights downstairs were turned on but they would only reach so far up to the second floor. Loid started looking around for a portable light source or a switch—he wasn't sure what the technology of this world was like, especially when it came to whatever replaced electricity.

Then, Anya held out her hand, some of her veins there started glowing green before an ethereal circle formed on the back of her palm and started emitting a bit of light.

“Better, Papa?” she asked, looking up at him expectantly.

“Yes, Anya,” Loid said, smiling at her. “Let’s try it together,” he said as he held up his hand.

It didn’t come as naturally and instinctively to him as combat, but it was easy enough to figure out how to channel magic into his hand without summoning any water bullets or destructive waves. Once more, his veins glowed bright blue like his eyes but pulsed much less dramatically and violently. A circle formed on the back of his hand, too, providing much more light than Anya’s.

“Oooh...” Anya went, trying to hold her hand up to Loid’s.

Loid met her halfway.

Anya’s light was quickly drowned out, the green glow turning into a small patch of blue-green. Clearly, that upset her, and with a huff, she pressed her palm to the back of Loid's hand.

Loid felt the warmth from Anya’s skin, the smallness of her hand, a small thrum like electricity was coursing just underneath. Shortly after, the bright blue of Loid’s magic turned completely blue-green.

Loid stopped for a moment to admire the ethereal glow it cast on everything at the second floor, before he looked down at Anya, smiling up at him and with her eyes shining brighter than their shared magic ever could.

Loid was overwhelmed with a feeling of warmth flooding his chest, something he hadn't felt in years, he thought he never could feel again or would let himself feel.

“… Papa?” Anya asked.

“Yes?" Loid asked.

“Papa’s crying,” Anya said. “Why?”

“I’m just so happy Papa can’t hold it in anymore, Anya. I’m fine,” Loid said. He tried to wipe his tears but found both of his arms occupied, unable to let go of Anya and unwilling to pull his hand from hers.

Anya noticed. She reached up with her other hand and after she started making it crackle with electricity once more, Loid felt the tears from his eyes flying off and into Anya’s hand, sizzling quietly before evaporating.

“Thank you, Anya,” Loid said.

“Mm,” Anya hummed before she yawned.

Loid found himself doing the same. It really was far past time for them to end this long, strange, exhausting day.

Anya still only had her rags, Loid had no idea where his original suit and shirt went, and the Paladias seemed to have no sleepwear to spare. Loid’s preparation for bed would only be removing his boots again and leaving them at the foot of the bed.

Loid made a note to buy them both a larger wardrobe as soon as possible, Anya being the priority as he couldn’t stand to watch her run around exposed and undignified like that, and with how nice were the clothes Loid found himself in and could borrow from Jack.

It was what a good father would do.

(Father…?) Loid thought to himself as laid down on his side, Anya stretched out on the bed but continued to snuggle up to him.

Right. He was Anya’s father now. Maybe this was a convenient lie for the both of them to escape suspicion and possible prosecution, should Aleina have not believed them or Mr. Fitzroy made good on his threat.

But though Loid didn’t believe in fate or higher powers, he had no other explanation as to why he was brought here, why he was in the perfect place and time for Anya to beg for help, and why he was blessed with these mysterious powers to save her and have an easier time protecting and building a better life for the both of them.

Agent Twilight had no plans of ever being a father. He could not spare the free time nor the thought of having some innocents that would be easy, no-brainer targets for the people who were constantly targeting him.

But Agent Twilight died in Berlint.

And now, he was Loid Forger, a former butler with a daughter, Anya, both refugees from a distant land who fled for Port Illyria but found themselves just short here in Reinseburg, where they would start their new life instead.

Chapter Text

Morning came with no incidents, which Loid was grateful for. He hadn’t had the time or the opportunity to examine the Paladia House for every possible entry point, the nooks and crannies a threat could sneak in through or hide in, or just generally explored the house to get an idea of where everything was. He hadn’t even been in the kitchen despite his offer to help there, which just would not stand.

Loid decided to rectify that as soon as possible—and stopped as he realized that Anya was still in bed with him and asleep, clinging to one of his arms.

There, Loid found conflict: his desire to be a good, productive, proactive employee and guarantee a decent living and livelihood for now and the future, against his desire not to wake Anya up.

She looked so incredibly young, just past being a toddler who needed to be watched and escorted everywhere. Loid thought she was 4, it would be at least a year or two before she was even old enough for elementary school (assuming it also existed in this world and had similar age requirements).

So, Anya would need sleep, and lots of it.

Especially since she must have had a serious deficit. Whatever “magic things” the “Really Bad People” had done, Loid doubted it had much consideration for the needs of a young girl, her future, and her comfort, if they had even considered her worth the time and effort at all.

His blood started to boil before Anya stirred.

Loid cursed mentally. Perhaps the Paladias would understand his letting his child sleep in but he was an adult and he had seen a glimpse of how badly they were understaffed and overworked, with the threat of Lord Colwyn and his crony Mr. Fitzroy looming over them, too.

How deeply were they in debt and how impossible was it for them to dig themselves out of it, short of a miracle?

Loid decided that neither being late to start work nor waking up Anya was acceptable. Hence, he had to think of a third solution, one that would be worthy of his old title as Twilight, the legendary spy with a near-perfect track record, the one who could always think himself out of any bad situation.

And so, several minutes later, Loid was coming down the stairs with a still-sleeping Anya nestled in the crook of his arm, his bootlaces tied with one hand, and he was still in the clothes he'd slept in. (He didn't know if he had a replacement set without asking either Paladia.)

He was thinking about taking stock of what needed to be done until he saw a truly saddening sight: Jack sleeping on one of the tables while sitting in a chair, still dressed in his apron and his clothes from last night, with a handful of tables yet to be cleared and cleaned yet, not to mention the floor.

(This is unsustainable and unacceptable,) Loid thought.

He decided to let Jack continue sleeping a bit longer; Loid didn't know how Jack would react to being woken up and if that might put them all at some risk of injury. So, Loid slipped past the tables silently, carefully stepping around a puddle that had been left uncleaned from last night, and peered in through the window to the kitchen.

(It’s even worse than I thought.)

There was a giant pile of used dishes, pots, and pans all piled up in the sink, in that precarious balance that could only be achieved by people desperate to at least put them in one spot than leaving them lying around elsewhere. At least the faucet hadn’t been left open to drip or that would have been a waste of precious water and a possible flooding risk.

On that note, Loid noticed the exposed metal pipe running from the faucet, followed it, found a T-junction pipe and the bathroom (which was a small closet with a flush toilet in it and a faucet with a bucket), then looked out a window to see that the house’s water was from a wooden storage tank on the roof.

(I’ll have to figure out how much getting a potable water supply is costing them, if anything,) Loid thought to himself as he headed back inside. (This place can’t afford any leaking, literal or financial.)

Perhaps Anya wasn’t the only person that Loid may have been brought here to save, he realized.

He gently put Anya down on a rocking chair nearby before he grabbed one of the clean aprons hanging on a set of hooks on the wall. Then, as seriously as he would put on a tactical suit and protective gear, Loid tied it behind his back so it wouldn’t slip, come undone, or fail to provide him with the necessary protection from splashes and stains.

(Time to get to work,) Loid thought with a serious grimace as he pulled up his sleeves.

The clatter and rattle of pots, pans, and plates being moved around and knocking against each other filled the kitchen. Loid tried to be as quiet as possible but getting these done and put away properly ASAP was the higher priority as the longer they sat, the more bacteria would thrive and spread throughout the kitchen. When they were semi-neatly stacked up for maximum efficiency going in the sink and then out to dry on the other end, Loid tried to take stock of how he was going to clean them, exactly.

This world did not lack kitchen sponges (natural ones, from the sea) or dish soap and water softener, as Loid found two ceramic bottles of them clearly labeled and sitting in a basket on the wall.

Still, was scrubbing by hand the most efficient way to go about this?

He had summoned water out of thin air, what’s to say he couldn’t manipulate it if it already existed in the world? Loid decided to plug up the sink and start running the faucet to experiment.

Out came a steady, single stream of water, Loid put his hand to it, and started trying to will the mysterious power inside him to come forth.

Soon, the back of his hand and some of the veins there were glowing, and the water stopped pouring off his fingers and started flowing into his palm. There was a faint glow on the sink now, Loid noticed the back of his hand was glowing and a mysterious circle had appeared there, too. Loid started redirecting the flow sideways and up against gravity, gathering up the water into a sphere, watching the flow of water spiraling into the center as the sphere grew larger and larger…

Then, he unfurled a finger and pointed at the sink.

Pssshtt…!

Out came a blast of water, like a water gun or a very thin nozzle for a sprayer. Loid shut off the faucet and then resumed firing, watching as a line of water went from the sphere on his palm and along the line drawn by his finger until it completely ran out and ended as a dribble.

“Perfect,” he said to himself, smiling.

“Mmmn… Papa?”

Loid looked over his shoulder and saw Anya rubbing her eyes and yawning. “Good morning, Anya,” Loid said. “Sorry if I woke you up, Papa needed to start helping Mr. Jack and Mrs. Polly.”

Anya nodded sleepily. “Gotta work… don’t eat, if you don’t...”

“Precisely,” Loid said. "Let Papa handle this, for now, try and go back to sleep," he said, turning back to the sink.

“Mm-mn!" Anya grunted as she quickly woke up. "Anya's going to help!" she said as she started to clamber up to her feet and then climb off the rocking chair.

“I don't think you can--" Loid started before he remembered last night, and Anya's using her power to clean up his tears. "Actually, Anya, I think you can. Let me find you a chair and an apron, too."

The Paladias had no child-sized aprons, but they did have clean cloth that Loid could easily tie up Anya's hair with and wrap around her waist over the rags she wore. He reminded himself of his plan to get her new clothes, especially if the Paladias didn’t have any hand-me-downs available nor could borrow from their neighbors on such short notice.

Soon, Anya was also properly dressed for housework and standing on a tall stool that had her just able to reach up to the edge of the sink. Thankfully, Loid didn’t need her reaching into it.

“Are you ready, Anya?” Loid said as he squirted a bit of dish soap and water softener into the water ball in his palm, agitated it till they were mixed thoroughly.

“Ready, Papa!” Anya said, raising up her hands and making them spark and whirl with air.

“Then let’s go,” Loid said before he grabbed a used wooden mug with bits of dried beer foam stuck to it.

In and out of the sink went glasses, mugs, utensils, plates, pots, and pans. Loid fired jets of water from his fingertips like a sprayer to get rid of most of it before scrubbing the rest with a sponge and then holding it out to Anya. Anya put her hands near it, the electricity from her fingers made most of the water drops fly off before she summoned gusts of air to blow dry the rest.

Maybe it wasn’t as efficient and fast if Loid had decided to stack everything and try to siphon off the excess water himself, but Loid knew this place needed new, properly trained staff and fast.

Plus, Anya seemed really proud to see each finished item join the stack and Loid didn’t want to take that from her.

Though they rapidly settled into an efficient rhythm and workflow, that didn’t stop Loid from noticing the footsteps from behind him.

“Good morning, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said without turning around or interrupting his work.

“Ah, good morning, Mr. Forger, Anya,” Jack said before he yawned. “Wow, you guys are really going at it first thing, huh?”

“I promised I’d help out and repay your kindness, didn’t I?” Loid said. “Leave it to us, Mr. Paladia. We’ll come back for the rest of the tables once we’re done here, you should try and get some sleep in a proper bed soon.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Forger?” Jack said. “I feel kinda ashamed you’re taking on all this by yourselves...”

“Go, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said. “We’ll all be worse off if you end up falling sick from overwork and we’ll be down two sets of hands.”

“Ah—I—yeah, you’re right...” Jack muttered. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom and head on up.”

“See you later, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said.

By the time Jack headed back up the stairs, the giant stacks of dirty dishes and pots had transformed into neat stacks of clean, dry ones, ready to be stowed away in the cabinets.

Loid shut off the faucet and gave himself a moment to breathe. "We're done, Anya. You can stop now."

“Mm,” Anya went, panting and sweating. The crackle of electricity and woosh of wind from her hands stopped, she looked up at Loid and asked, “Did Anya do good?”

“Very good, Anya,” Loid said, smiling as he patted her on the head.

Anya giggled before her stomach rumbled. “Papa… Anya can eat now…?”

“Yes, Anya,” Loid said as he picked her up off the stool.

“Can Anya have more peanuts?!” Anya asked. “Anya remembers where Mrs. Polly kept them,” she said, eagerly pointing at a cabinet.

“Sure, sure,” Loid said, opening it with his free hand and finding several other shelled or unshelled nuts, herbs, and spices made for sprinkling or garnish. “But you’re going to need to eat a lot more than just peanuts, Papa wants you to grow up properly.”

“Anya will! After peanuts,” Anya said.

Loid got Anya a bowl of them (he wasn’t irresponsible enough to leave her with the entire, sizable jar), and he started exploring the kitchen to see where everything was and what he had to work with.

He quickly made a useful discovery: this world had consumer-level refrigeration, albeit it was currently a wooden icebox relying on some kind of magical stone in one cabinet. It looked like ice but was not normal ice by any stretch, it had runic carvings on its surface and a bright blue glow from its center underneath several inches worth of solid frost. Loid was going to have to study and ask about this later—maybe this power of his wasn't strictly limited to liquid water, producing this mysterious cooling stone could be part of his skill set to save the Paladias some money.

Loid checked the icebox’s other cabinets and drawers. At the bottom was meat—chicken, pork, beef, and wild meats like waterfowl and what seemed to be venison—and then above that, pots full of stocks, each clearly labeled so he knew if it was vegetable, fish plus shellfish, or which kind of land-bound meat. On another shelf next to the "ice crystal" (as he was calling it for now) were dairy products, cow's and goat's milk, cream, and cheese, safe from being dripped on by raw meats.

Loid shut the doors of the icebox with a satisfied nod. Organized, clean, and clearly, this world had some semblance of modern food safety and storage. The last thing he needed was to try and argue with Mrs. Polly about drastically changing her organization method for safety concerns he couldn’t explain to her without sounding completely insane, talking about tiny living organisms that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye.

“Anya thinks Mrs. Polly would trust Papa,” Anya said. “Mrs. Polly believes Papa when Papa said Papa was a butler.”

Loid paused. Was he really that obvious with his searching and examining the Paladia’s organization? Anya probably wasn’t “normal” by this world’s standards, based on all he had figured out about magia and could extrapolate from that, but she was strikingly good at reading people’s motivations and guessing their thoughts even at her young age.

Was this a result of those “magic things” the Really Bad People had done or did she happen to be born with it?

Anya whined unpleasantly.

Loid put a pause to that train of thought. “Is something wrong, Anya?” he asked.

“Nothing!” Anya said. “Anya just thinks she’s hungrier now.”

“Of course,” Loid said, smiling and nodding.

Maybe she was just very empathetic. He knew spies, executives, and interrogators from back in his old life who seemed to have an uncanny ability to read people, their emotional states, and what they were thinking. Some of them were his mentors, even.

“Papa’s going to try and cook us all something much tastier and filling than peanuts now,” Loid said as he found the oven and stove combination.

They both looked like what he was used to, with dials for timers and temperature. But, like everything else in this world, some differences made it clear the technology behind it was very different: instead of a gas line or an electric heating element, their power sources seemed to be more of those magical crystals, smaller and red-orange instead of blue, lined up in an array on the inside walls of the oven or within the rings of the burners.

Click. Whoom…

Loid opened the metal door to the oven, and found the stones inside lit up faintly, slowly but gradually getting brighter and a more intense shade of red. Loid put his hand near one row and could already feel the heat coming from it. Satisfied, he shut the door to let it warm up before he looked for the pantry and found it nearby.

Then, as he put his hand on the knob, he heard Mrs. Polly saying: “Mr. Forger? Trying to cook us breakfast?”

Loid stopped and looked back. There was Mrs. Polly, looking both impressed and surprised as she carried a tray stacked with the plates and glasses they’d left behind in the dining area.

“Good morning, Mrs. Paladia, and yes, please don’t trouble yourself with it,” Loid said.

“Oh, I appreciate the thought and kindness, but I insist!” Mrs. Polly said as she put away the still-dirty cups and tableware in the sink. “Cooking is my life and livelihood, if I’m not the one doing it, I’m either out sick or dead.”

“If you say so, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said, stepping away from the pantry. “I suppose I’ll just help clean up the floor and wipe the tables, then”

“I’d appreciate that,” Mrs. Polly said, smiling ruefully. “Honest to goodness, I’ve been real reluctant to get the mop and bucket out these days."

“Good thing I have water magic,” Loid said, glancing at his hand. “Where are the cleaning supplies?”

“Closet over there, next to the bathroom and under the stairs,” Mrs. Polly said, pointing. “Oh, and Mr. Forger? Jack told me you’d love to help out here, but are you sure this isn’t all, oh, I don’t know, beneath you as a magia?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said as he walked over to the supply closet. “I was a butler, as I mentioned.”

“Must have been some house you were working for if they got a magia servant doing regular old chores like this! Especially one so talented and hardworking like you," Mrs. Paladia said as she opened the pantry door. "When you said butler, I thought you meant you were the boss butler that ordered around all the other butlers and made sure they did their jobs right."

Loid chuckled as he found a bucket, a mop, and a ceramic bottle labeled “All-Purpose Cleaner.” “I guess my country just had different expectations for servants, magia or no.”

"You can say that again," Mrs. Polly called out, louder as she was inside the pantry now. "I got customers from all over the world thanks to Port Illyria, but I've never heard anything like that before! Though I suppose I don't get too many nobles and their servants in here, so I may not have just known that."

“Maybe so, maybe not,” Loid said, preparing to shut the closet door.

He stopped as he noticed that Anya had followed him out of the kitchen and looked ready to join him again.

“Anya?” Loid asked. “I thought you said you were hungry earlier, you can sit this one out. I don’t want you using too much energy and passing out like I did yesterday.”

“Anya still wants to help Papa!” Anya said. “And Anya doesn’t need to use Anya’s magic to help clean this time.”

Mrs. Polly laughed as she came out of the pantry with bowls and other containers full of ingredients. “Looks like she inherited your hardworking spirit, Mr. Forger!”

Loid chuckled and smiled. “So it seems,” he said as he grabbed a smaller rag from the closet and handed it to Anya.

Anya beamed before she put on her serious face, ready to help earn her keep yet again.

Loid filled up the bucket in the bathroom, and the two quickly began to mop up the spills and the worst of the messes in the dining area, before they got too dry or stuck on than they already were.

And after Anya tripped, crashed into the water bucket, and sent the contents spilling out, Loid and Mrs. Polly learned that Anya did not seem to have “inherited” Loid’s grace and skill.

Chapter Text

Breakfast was potatoes au gratin. It was mixed with a variety of leftovers from last night or prepped ingredients that didn’t end up being served to customers. Then, it was seasoned again with fresh herbs from the Paladia’s plants hanging outside the windows or from the kitchen ceiling. Finally, it was topped with a layer of melted, browned cheese.

“This looks and smells absolutely wonderful, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said as he inhaled the aromas wafting from it.

“Almost as good as peanuts!” Anya said as she sat in the seat next to Loid.

“Oh, thank you, you two,” Mrs. Paladia said, smiling and blushing as she stood nearby. “Don’t just stare at it, though, get to eating!” she said as she started scooping up and putting generous portions on both their plates.

Loid found himself eating with much more restraint than last night, but still, he was consuming far, far more than he ever had before he arrived here and could likely eat yet more still without getting sick. How did this world afford to feed magia? More importantly, how could Mrs. Paladia afford to feed the both of them when they were both clearly deep in serious debt they couldn’t afford to pay back?

“You got a troubled face there, Mr. Forger, and my mother’s intuition tells me it’s not because of my cooking,” Mrs. Paladia said as she sat down to join them. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just curious about how much it must be costing you to feed me and Anya,” Loid said, putting his fork down for a moment. “I don’t think we can pay you back if we keep eating more than our work is worth.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, not one bit! It’ll spoil your meal,” Mrs. Polly said, tut-tutting. “I may not live in Lulurun Valley anymore but I’ll always live by this tradition: not one person that sits at your table should ever go hungry. More so since most of my recipes and ingredients still come from there, it just feels disrespectful if I don’t.”

“So is that where the main food supply for Reinesburg comes from?” Loid asked, examining the ingredients on his plate.

“Mhmm, though I guess if you wanted to be specific, we buy them from my cousin who’s a wholesaler in Port Illyria, who buys them from the farmers in Lulurun Valley,” Mrs. Polly said as she served herself some food. “It’s hard to move anything through Port Illyria if it’s not in bulk and your paperwork’s not all completely in order.”

“Is there any reason you can’t get shipments directly from there?” Loid asked as he picked up his fork and resumed eating. “I’ve always found trying to cut out middlemen does wonders for finances.”

Mrs. Polly snorted and wagged her fork at Loid. “Gonna be hard not going through Port Illyria!

“You’ll have to sail down the Lulurun River, get off before the shipping checkpoints, trek on foot the several miles of wilderness around Port Illyria and can’t pass on their roads with your cargo, then have a different boat ready on the Reines River without counting on the docks Port Illyria owns or leases from the richer folks in town, like Lord Colwyn.

“You’ll probably get robbed by bandits or have monsters eating your cargo then you than getting to here intact, and even then, it’ll be days or weeks till you do. You'd run out of ice gems and regular ice in no time so everything would have spoiled if it wasn't salted, smoked, or drowned in a brine first. And I pride myself on trying to serve fresh ingredients every night, it's one of the reasons we still have customers, and the restaurant can still run and pay for itself despite how much more it costs to get and store ingredients.

"Well, we don't end up without much to spare after, but better than having to tighten the belt to your ribs, I say."

Loid nodded. “So Port Illyria has a monopoly on all transport and shipping in the region?”

“I mean, it is what it’s famous for, isn’t it?” Mrs. Polly said, surprised. “Everything and everyone has to go through Port Illyria, but Port Illyria makes sure everything and everyone gets going and gets to where they’re going."

“I see, I believe I missed that in our rush,” Loid said.

“You must have been in a real damn hurry for that to happen!” Mrs. Polly said, going “tsk-tsk.” “You poor things.”

“Anya’s just happy to be anywhere but where Anya was before,” Anya said, cutting in.

“You’re safe here now with your Papa, Little Anya,” Mrs. Polly said, reaching out and patting Anya on the head. “I may not know how to fight but now that you’re living with us, I won’t let anyone take you again if I can help it, too.”

Anya smiled. “Thanks, Mrs. Polly!”

“And as for you, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Polly said as she turned back to Loid, "anything else you'd like to know? I don't think I can answer it very well, because everything I know about how things move from A to B is from my daughter Diana. But it'll be a while before her office gives her time to come home over the weekend again, I think."

“Does she work in Shipping or Customs there?” Loid asked, interested.

“No, Civil Engineering, especially now that she’s graduated from the Academy and is working in public service to pay back her tuition,” Mrs. Polly replied. “I hear they’ve got her working on all the roads, rivers, and canals in and around Port Illyria, sometimes to the other big cities if they're short on magia.

“She may not be with the officials who have all the numbers and records about who and what moves where and how much they’re carrying, but she does travel up and down all those places to make sure everything’s working, new projects get built on time, and nothing falls to pieces earlier than expected. It’s hard not to pick up on how things work when you’ve been doing it for about 6 years by now, I reckon.”

“I see, that’s good to know,” Loid thought, nodding.

(If ever I need to sneak into the city or find a less obvious route to travel around, Diana should be the person to ask,) Loid thought. (That, or she might be a step to someone who can give me the information I need,) Loid said.

He was about to ask how to get in touch with Diana when there was a knocking on the front doors.

“Sorry to interrupt your breakfast!” Aleina called out. “I’ve brought the forms the Forgers need to file for citizenship and our town’s mayor, so they can get them approved right away.”

“Mayor Ibroix?” Mrs. Polly asked, standing up and looking curious.

“Yes, yes, it's me," said a bent-over old man as he stepped in through the doors. He had dark brown skin, a shiny bald head, and angular, squarish features, one of his gnarled and calloused hands held a wooden cane with mysterious patterns carved into it. "I heard about our newest residents last night, and thought that I needed to come to see them right away and welcome them to town!

“My apologies for taking half a day to get here,” he said, his weathered lips spreading into a large, gap-filled grin. “I insisted on walking.”

“And I insisted that he could have spared himself the trouble by summoning you to the town hall at your earliest convenience," Aleina grumbled as she followed after Ibroix.

“Now, now, Aleina,” Ibroix said, looking back at her. “Maybe your elders are perfectly fine sitting in one place for centuries at a time, but I’m afraid of growing moss in that chair of mine.”

“I could have powered it for you to get here and back, if only you’d let me,” Aleina snapped softly.

“Oh, let’s not argue, you two,” Mrs. Polly said as she came over and took one of Mayor Ibroix’s arms. “You’ll give the Forgers the wrong idea about how things are between you two.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems you two are old friends?” Loid said, smiling as he got up as well.

“We are,” Ibroix said, smiling again. “I knew Captain Aleina here long before they even started calling me ‘old.’ Though, it was a little too late for her then,” he said, chuckling.

Aleina sighed heavily, unamused.

Ibroix turned back to Loid, offered his free hand, and said, "You must be Mr. Loid Forger. I am Ibroix ibn Iduna Ilkasir Illayah. But, you should probably stop at just ‘Ibroix.’ I know I do!”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mayor Ibroix,” Loid said, shaking it. “I’m humbled that you’ve taken time out of your day to meet me and my daughter personally to welcome us to your town, precious as every second must be to you at your age.”

Ibroix laughed heartily, his whole body shaking alongside his cane. Aleina and Mrs. Polly both readied themselves to catch him but to Loid’s eyes, Ibroix remained perfectly stable with little risk of falling.

Loid couldn’t see the ripples right now, but would Ibroix’s movements have been as chaotic as the bandits who had lost their balance and struggled to get it back?

Ibroix wheezed then took a long, deep breath. He let it go slowly then said, "Please, Mr. Forger. Perhaps in terms of how long I have, until I turn to dust once more and the winds and the currents carry me back to Qiel'solai, my time is terribly short, but when it comes to how much free time I have day-to-day as Mayor, it is far, far too long. Most of the actual business of governing is all done by my apprentices and assistants, and the town’s public servants like Aleina.”

“So you’re basically just sitting at your desk all day until it’s time to clock out?” Loid joked.

“Exactly,” Ibroix said, smiling. “Well, at least until Coswyn, his cronies, or any other nobles and officials come calling my office and demanding to speak with me. Then, there will come the most horrible of horrors, the most nightmarish of nightmares, the one thing that will shake a turba majin like myself to his core:

“I’ll have to actually do work.”

Both Ibroix and Loid laughed.

“Truly, a position only fit to be held by the hardiest and strongest of leaders,” Loid said, shaking his head.

“Indeed,” Ibroix said, nodding.

“Anya doesn’t get it,” Anya said as she remained on the table.

“In time, child," Ibroix said. "Or perhaps, it's better if you never come to understand why it's so funny to us. Though, I suppose I didn't need to say it to you, do I?”

Anya continued to look confused before she blinked, her eyes widening.

Ibroix smiled and nodded at her.

Then, after a few moments of silence, Anya relaxed and smiled, too.

As the others were confused, Anya turned to Loid and said, “Anya likes Grandpa Ibroix. Grandpa Ibroix is nice.”

“Mr. Forger…?” Aleina said, turning to him.

Loid shrugged. “Perhaps we’ll never know and never need to know.”

“Precisely,” Ibroix said. “Now, do you mind if I sit down while you finish your meal? We can’t file your papers with bits of gratin stuck to it, delicious as Polly’s cooking always is and wonderful its smells are as well.”

“But of course, Mayor Ibroix,” Loid said. “Would you like some as well? You must be famished from having walked all night to get here.”

“Thank you, but I’d like to refuse,” Ibroix said as Aleina helped him settle into a chair on a separate table, his hand glowed and the carvings on his cane glowed before it started to levitate over the floor. “I’ll live. I don’t know for how much longer, but I will.”

Aleina groaned. “I’ll start filling in the details I already know, and you two can fill in the rest later after you’re done eating,” she said as she sat down with Ibroix, and took a wooden tube, a pen, and a container of ink from her bag.

The Forgers and Mrs. Polly finished breakfast, the latter cleared the table and started doing the dishes again. Aleina took over Mrs. Polly’s seat to help guide them in filling up the forms and other civic concerns and duties, like taxes and mandatory recruitment for public emergencies such as natural disasters or monster hordes threatening the town or Port Illyria.

They were filled in no time at all, with the only delay being Anya needing to rewrite hers on an entirely new sheet.

“Maybe your Papa or another adult can fill this in for you after all,” Aleina said as she looked at the many smudges and poorly drawn characters on Anya’s sheet.

“But Anya knows how to write and read already!” Anya protested.

“Perhaps not to the eyes of a lawyer from Port Illyria, child,” Ibroix said. “You don’t want your Papa to get in trouble because they think you were trying to hide something by purposefully making it unreadable, do you? It is, quite literally, a crime in Port Illyria to submit badly-written documents."

Anya grumbled. “Fine. Anya will let Papa do it.”

Loid redid it for her and after the ink dried, Aleina made two sets of copies, the original to be filed here in Reinesburg and the duplicates magically sealed and bound for Port Illyria.

“Pardon me,” Aleina said as she stood up, “I need to get this delivered as soon as possible. I’d hate for Mr. Fitzroy to return here and try to use the excuse that you’re still technically undocumented in Port Illyria’s eyes.”

“Winds carry you swiftly, Aleina, and may the earth before Fitzroy’s feet be rough,” Ibroix said. “I’ll stay here and tell our new residents about the unwritten rules of living in Reinesburg.”

“We’re prepared to listen, Mayor Ibroix,” Loid said, Anya nodding along with him.

“Now, as I'm sure you must know," Ibroix started, "we're downstream from Port Illyria, and thanks to that proximity, we're under the jurisdiction of the Illyria Accords and by extension, this country, Lumania. For all but the most local of matters, which is to be judged by my office and enforced by the town guard under Captain Aleina, we're supposed to call the Port Illyria City Guard and let them handle it.

“But, Port Illyria is less a city of Lumania, more a city that just happens to be within the borders of Lumania. You will find many peoples, nations, and organizations living, trading, and vying for power in the city and the regions surrounding it. They are of many different ideologies, beliefs, and motivations, but there is the rule of thumb all will always abide by:

“The most important thing is money, whether someone stands to gain a lot of it, stands to lose a lot of it, or worst of all, someone has stolen someone else’s.

“And, since Reinesburg is one of the least profitable and notable townships in the region, we rarely get the city guard showing up for anything, unless it is something truly serious indeed. So, for the most part, if there's a problem, we'll be relying on ourselves to solve them and then report it after the fact to Port Illyria, if only as a formality."

Ibroix looked directly at Loid and said, “I’ll be expecting much from you, as a former butler and soldier, Mr. Forger. You strike me as the kind of man who does not give anything less than his best, as he puts service first before himself.”

Ibroix smiled and continued, “Except, perhaps, when his beloved daughter is involved.”

Anya beamed.

Loid nodded and put a hand to his chest. “I am at your service, Mayor Ibroix.”

Ibroix hummed, pleased. “By the way, Mr. Forger, may I ask a personal question?”

“Go ahead, Mayor Ibroix,” Loid said.

“Do you intend to raise Anya by yourself?” Ibroix continued. “The village will be happy to help you, I assure you of that, and I will not doubt you if you are confident in your ability to shoulder the brunt of the responsibility. But, I find it always helps tremendously if there is at least one other the child knows they can always count on, come storm or flame.”

“Perhaps in a few years, perhaps never, Mayor Ibroix,” Loid said, smiling bitterly. “The loss of Anya’s mother was too recent and too traumatic,” he said, looking to the side with faraway eyes.

“May what has been broken, be mended, Mr. Forger,” Ibroix said, nodding with a sympathetic expression.

“Grandpa Ibroix?” Anya asked.

“Yes, child?” Ibroix asked as he turned to her.

“What about Grandpa Ibroix’s family?” Anya asked.

Ibroix sighed. “I’m afraid they’ve all returned to Qiel'solai ahead of me, child.”

“Huh?” Anya asked, blinking before she paused. “Oh. Anya’s sorry...” she said, looking down.

“My condolences as well, Mayor Ibroix,” Loid said.

“Cherish each other while you can," Ibroix said, picking up his cane and preparing to get up off his seat. "As suddenly as your paths may cross and join as one, you may find them splitting or ending just as abruptly."

Loid stood up to help Ibroix to the doors and Anya was following after them when they heard something: rapid but steady footsteps, not panicked but certainly in a hurry.

Soon, the double swinging doors flew open and stayed open as Aleina held them. “Is Mayor Ibroix—“ she saw him, hurried over, looked around, then discreetly said, “Sir, Gazyl has just come back from his search, he says he’s found another one!”

“What?” Ibroix gasped, his eyes widening and the easygoing air about him disappearing in an instant.

“Found what, exactly?” Loid said, his face turning serious as well.

“… More Numbing Death…?” Anya said, trembling now.

“Yes,” Aleina said, nodding grimly. “Thankfully, this time he found it still sealed inside its vial and not the residue left on a used bolt as he had with Forger yesterday. He can't be sure but he's got a strong suspicion this isn't the last vial, either."

“Has he left to search again?” Ibroix asked.

“He won’t leave town until we can promise him that he’ll be able to cure it himself or be cured if he gets hit with it," Aleina said, now standing before Ibroix. "Nihls say he can neither build an auto-administrator nor brew Super Cures on such short notice.”

"Well then," Ibroix said, turning to Loid, "it's a good thing we happen to have a new magia in town who happens to know the spell equivalent, don't we? Unless you happen to want to refuse Reinesburg’s call to action since it's come so soon? We will understand."

Loid sighed. "I will answer it, Mayor Ibroix. I don’t want anyone to suffer what I did or risk it happening twice.”

"Anya's coming with Papa!" Anya said, putting her hands up.

“Anya, no, this is going to be incredibly dangerous,” Loid said, frowning. “I barely survived getting hit with Numbing Death, if it hits you, I—I don’t think I’d have enough time to even try to save you.”

“Anya knows Papa won’t let Anya get hit,” Anya said confidently. “Anya will make sure Papa doesn’t get hit, either! Anya’s not hiding again like how Papa didn’t hide from the Bad People!”

Ibroix laughed. “It would appear that you’re going to have a young sidekick whether you like it or not, Mr. Forger.”

“Are you seriously saying I should put Anya in danger just because she wants to go?!” Loid spluttered.

“I had children myself, some of them were daughters, Mr. Forger," Ibroix said, reaching out to Loid and putting a hand on his arm. His eyes and voice suddenly grew serious as he said, "You're going to regret it once you've tested the limits of their obedience, and their faith in you is lost."

Then, the pleasantness was back as he continued, "Besides, this will be a great opportunity for the both of you to start exploring some of Reinesburg, inside and out! Aleina?”

“Take this with you, Mr. Forger,” Aleina said, holding out an emblem that had been infused with her magic and was now glowing faintly. "It means I've deputized you, and the town's tailor, the weapon store, and the alchemist are now all obliged to provide help. They'll know what to do once you give it to them.

“Try to keep this quiet, we don't want to cause a panic and our poison maker to be alerted and disappear in the chaos. And finally, don't activate the emblem yourself until you've handed it to all three of them first. If any one of them just happens to be out right now, which they probably won't be, come back to me at town hall instead."

“I will and I won't," Loid said, nodding, taking the emblem, and putting it in one of his pockets. (This is like spy work all over again,) he thought.

“Anya and Papa will be like spies…!” Anya whispered, her eyes shining. “This is so exciting!” she shouted.

“What is?” Mrs. Polly called out, peeking from the window into the kitchen.

“We’re going out to see Reinesburg now that it’s morning and we’re officially citizens!” Loid said, scooping up Anya and smiling innocently. “No better time since you don’t open till later in the afternoon, after all!”

“Well, have fun you two!” Mrs. Polly continued. “And try and stop by the tailor’s first, Anya really needs new clothes and I’m sure they’re done fixing your shirt and jacket by now! Did I mention I took them there? I think I forgot to yesterday!”

“I was already planning to, Mrs. Paladia, and thank you for doing so regardless!” Loid said before he looked at Aleina and Ibroix.

“To your left and across two bridges once you head outside," Ibroix said. "You'll be happy to know I've tried to cluster most of the stores and businesses together by their clientele, the ones serving hunters are almost right next to each other."

“Thank you,” Loid said as he headed out the doors. “We’re leaving now, Anya.”

“Papa and Anya are going on an adventure!” Anya cheered, throwing her arms up.

Loid and Anya left the restaurant hand-in-hand.

Ibroix and Aleina stayed inside and when she was certain Loid’s footsteps sounded far enough, she turned to Ibroix and whispered, “Are you really sure we should be leaving this to him? He’s new in town and there’s still so much we don’t know and can’t know about him.”

“The winds of good fortune seem to have brought this family to our town in its time of need, we would be remiss to resist it,” Ibroix said calmly. “We can, however, pray that neither of us will need to step in to solve this crisis for them because then the situation would have become very dire indeed.”

Aleina sighed and shook her head. "I beseech thee, Earth Mother, may the path before them, be kind."

Chapter Text

As Mrs. Polly suggested, the tailor was the Forgers’ first stop.

After crossing two bridges and passing by several other busy stores and people going about their mornings, Loid easily found it by the signboard hanging perpendicular to the door, and the twin window displays of normal dresses, pants, and shirts on the left, then leather and cloth armor plus mystical looking robes on the right.

Loid figured if he was going to head out and search for a highly lethal poison and also likely whoever had made them, he wanted to have a defensive advantage first and foremost. He would not count again that someone would be around to save him if he ever fell unconscious once more. It was even more prominent now since he was the only one capable of saving anyone from Numbing Death.

Also, since Anya was tagging along, she needed at least a comfortable, proper dress. Maybe a cloak with a hood once it rained, Reinesburg struck him as a town built on and along wetlands that would be lousy with mosquitoes once the river floods.

He would not stand for her to be scratching bug bites constantly or worse, coming down with a potentially lethal fever from measly insects.

Loid pushed open the door to the shop, it hit what sounded like a set of elaborate wooden wind chimes.

Inside, he was greeted with elaborate, colorful displays of finished clothes and armor sets on mannequins and individual pieces on hangers, accessories on shelves and boxes under small spotlights fitted with tiny magical gems, and a wall full of linens, cloth bags, and pillows with impeccable stitching and elaborate, natural-themed designs.

And behind the counter in the corner was a man in a similarly elaborate light gray dress.

The pattern on it was stitched with orange-gold metallic thread, looking like some sort of vine or plant that had leaves shaped like fires. After he noticed the chimes and strode over to Loid and Anya with a smile, the skirt of the dress fluttered gracefully around his ankles and feet, the pattern seemed to glow and move on its own, as if the flames were real and burning merrily.

“Ah, you must be Mr. Loid Forger, and his daughter, Anya,” the man said, clasping his hands in front of his chest. “I’ve been expecting you two.”

Now that Loid had gotten a closer look, the man had the same pointy ears as Aleina. Another Fae? If so, he must have been from another region of this world than where Aleina came from. His skin was a dark, rich brown compared to her tan, his hair fell in tight, black curls, and his nose and face were very angular and boxy like he was roughly chiseled out of a block of stone.

“My name is Vahlen,” he said, extending a hand with long, lithe fingers, impeccably manicured nails, and noticeable callouses. “I am the master tailor of Reinesburg and the owner of this establishment.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said, taking it.

Vahlen shook it, firm and brief, then looked down at Anya.

“Anya’s name is Anya, Mr. Vahlen!” Anya said, smiling.

"Well, aren't you just more adorable than the rumors said?" Vahlen said, smiling and bending his knees to be more level with Anya. “But, we really must get you out of those literal rags,” he said, frowning and shaking his head, “the young daughter of a butler, past or present, cannot be dressed so shabbily and pitifully.”

“I don’t disagree, Mr. Vahlen, but I believe Captain Aleina would like for me to show you this first,” Loid said as he pulled out the glowing emblem.

Vahlen stood back up, took it into his hand, and the emblem pulsed a few times. His face turned even more troubled before he handed it back. “I see now,” he said. “We have little time to waste. Come!”

Whoosh!

Vahlen whipped around gracefully on his heels, his robes fluttering elegantly in his wake. “To the studio upstairs, you two! Mr. Forger’s original jacket and shirt await, as will proper clothes for Young Miss Anya."

“Thank you, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said as he grabbed Anya’s hand and the two of them followed him to and up a wooden spiral staircase. “Would you happen to have any armor to recommend? I don’t particularly want to be shot and almost killed by surprise crossbow bolts again.”

“I was already ahead of you, Mr. Forger!” Vahlen said, chuckling to himself. “You struck me as a man who was no stranger to violence nor will continue to be a stranger, so I took it upon myself to upgrade the lining of your jacket. Steelsilk spider weave, to be precise.

“Unfortunately, I did not have high enough quality stock on-hand to make it completely penetration proof, but it will drastically reduce the effective range of almost any projectile. Unless you find yourself getting shot at by siege weapons or stationary defense turrets, of course.

“Then, the holes they’ll make will be far larger than ones I can fix in my capacity as either a tailor or a surgeon.”

“I’ll try not to raid any fortified emplacements any time soon,” Loid replied.

“A wise decision,” Vahlen said. “You’re also you’re on your own with curing poisons and other ailments. Enchantments of the caliber you require are also beyond my available materials and the time I can spare for pro bono work.”

“The new lining alone makes me feel much better, Mr. Vahlen, I’m grateful for your prudence,” Loid said as they neared the top of the stairs.

“Think nothing of it, Mr. Forger!” Vahlen said, slowing down to look back and smile. “But, do think of me when you need new clothes and armor, please.”

They reached the second floor and saw the studio: three workstations with pedal-or-gem-powered sewing machines, one for regular clothes with hangers and racks, another for leather armor and armor pieces on mannequins, and another for other fabric-based products like linens, cloth sacks, and canvas covers, from what Loid could see.

“Ms. Nam!” Vahlen called out as he looked around. “Where are you?”

“Coming, Master Vahlen!” a young, female voice said from the third floor, by a different set of spiral stairs.

Down came a young woman with light brown skin, black hair tied in a bun behind her head and secured with a silver pin. Her outfit was a simple East-Asian style dress with a multi-pocketed apron in front of it.

She was carrying a tray full of tea and biscuits, the big smile on her face and her soft, rounded features gave her a very youthful, friendly aura. “Sorry,” Ms. Nam said, “I saw you coming to the store from the window and decided to get some refreshments ready!

“Please, help yourselves!” she said, bowing and lowering it enough so even Anya could reach.

“Cookies!” Anya cried, rushing over, grabbing them with her hands, and stuffing them in her mouth. “Mmm, sho good!”

“You’ll have to thank Mr. Vahlen for them!” Ms. Nam said, beaming. “Mr. Forger?”

Loid thought of taking some just to be polite then realized, with combat likely in his future, he should probably pack on some extra calories. “Thank you, Ms. Nam,” he said as he grabbed a few.

She laughed sheepishly. “Please, just ‘Na-bi.’ It’s necessary with Master Vahlen, but I don’t think I’m old enough to be a ‘Miss’ to anyone else just yet.”

“If you insist, Na-bi,” Loid said before he ate one of the cookies and found his eyebrows rising. “Hmm. This is extremely good.”

“Right?!” Na-bi said, smiling and nodding. “Mr. Vahlen could have opened a bakery and made a killing but he didn’t want to compete with the Savanwoods.”

“Reinesburg needed a better tailor more than another baker, anyway,” Vahlen said. “And once you’re done enjoying the fruits of my culinary labor, please, do try on your jacket and shirt, Mr. Forger. I only had their measurements to extrapolate yours and I will not stand for it to fit any less than ‘perfect,’” he said as he walked over to the regular clothes workstation.

“Right away, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said. “Anya, stay with Na-bi for a while.”

“Mhm-hmm!” Anya said, busy drinking the tea that came with the cookies and enjoying herself.

“I'll handle getting and fitting her a dress, Mr. Forger!" Na-bi said. "Sorry for not getting her one sooner, we'd sent out the latest batch of donations to Port Illyria just before you arrived, so we had to start making a new child's dress from scratch."

“Donations?” Loid asked as he followed Vahlen.

“We're both believers of the Illumina Faith and often do work for its church in Port Illyria and related organizations, such as its orphanages," Vahlen said as he found and pulled Loid's jacket and shirt off a rack. "Repairing torn clothes and ripped up linens, producing them, to begin with, along with costumes, toys, and costumes for those toys, just to list those immediately relevant to our main profession."

“I see,” Loid said. “Is it a very large religion here?”

“Well, yes, I would say so, considering most of the citizens of Reinesburg are also members, Port Illyria was founded by and is largely still controlled by its namesake denomination, and this entire country of Lumania is based on it,” Vahlen said, completely deadpan as he hung both of Loid’s clothes on separate stands. “Does that not count as suitably ‘large’ for you, Mr. Forger?”

“No, it does, and I was just joking around, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid lied.

“So I realized," Vahlen replied. "Now, then, Mr. Forger, eager as you must be to get back into familiar clothes, I must ask you to humor me and cast Mist Wash on yourself. I made certain the texture of your fabrics would remain largely unchanged or feel better after the modifications. So, I'd hate for your perception to be marred by dried sweat from yesterday's unfortunate events and leftover cookie crumbs just now."

“Very well, Mr. Vahlen, give me a moment,” Loid said before he tried to figure out just what “Mist Wash” was and how he was supposed to do it on himself.

(It must be some sort of hygiene spell, different from curing toxins like Super Cure,) Loid thought. (Is it like a shower meant to clean you when normal means aren't available? I remember there were shower heads that made mist, so…)

He held a hand over his head, his hand glowed, and soon a light mist fell from his palm and surrounded Loid. He kept his eyes open, watched and felt all the grime, sweat, and oil accumulated in his hair, his skin, and even the clothes he wore all near instantaneously disappeared, the mist rose and thickened in places before they glowed once and disappeared as well

“Thank you for humoring me, Mr. Forger,” Vahlen said, smiling.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said before he turned to the other side of the room. “Anya? Would you like a quick cleaning as well?”

“Nuh-uh!” Anya called out. “Mrs. Polly gave Anya a bath yesterday, while Papa was asleep the first time! Anya is still good, right?”

“I suppose so,” Loid said. “Mr. Vahlen, a curtain if you’d please?”

“At once, Mr. Forger,” Vahlen said, pulling out a rolling, collapsing curtain and stretching it out.

Loid quickly stripped out of the shirt the Paladias had lent him and put his original shirt and jacket back on. He hadn’t had much time to get a feel for wearing them, but he did realize that it was significantly different than yesterday. It made him feel better protected, like the times he knew he was going in a firefight but had the luxury of a sturdy bulletproof vest.

“Well, Mr. Forger?” Vahlen asked.

Loid tried to move around in it, basic range of motion, fighting stances, and some staple maneuvers like he was shadow boxing before finally, he practiced raising and lowering his dominant hand as he would with a gun—only this time, it was pointing with two fingers at an empty section of wall.

It might have looked ridiculous in Loid’s past life but Vahlen only observed with keen eyes. “Acceptable fit, Mr. Forger?” Vahlen asked after Loid finished and lowered his hands.

“Perfect, actually,” Loid said, opening one half and running his hand along the new silver-gray lining inside. “This new lining feels fantastic to the touch and to wear.”

“Water-proof and insulating, as well, which makes it especially suited for the damp and watery conditions you’ll often find here in Reinesburg,” Vahlen added, smiling proudly. “Should you find the original outer fabric of your jacket is too absorbent, slow to dry, and/or uncomfortable, I highly suggest switching to aquatic monster hides, which should also have excellent synergy to your element. Port Illyria’s merchants do not lack for them, though if you choose to hunt one yourself, please do consider bringing it to me for skinning and tanning if you are able.”

“Oh, I’d love to see the carcass before processing, too!” Na-bi said. “I can help and I’m, ah, an amateur monster researcher, so I’d love to have some practice sketching and documenting them.”

“Noted,” Loid said, filing that away as especially important info. “Anything else to add, Mr. Vahlen?”

Vahlen reached into a drawer and pulled out a leather belt with several pockets, leather loops, and attachment points for hooks or modifications. “For carrying necessities and weapons conveniently. You travel light, yes?”

“I do,” Loid nodded as he put it on.

“Since Captain Aleina is already sending you to all three of us, I recommend you stop by our blacksmith and weapons dealer next door, and then our local alchemist after that for potions and other supplies,” Vahlen said.

“Try to always put things in then back in the same place, unless you don’t have a choice!” Na-bi called out. “The most well-stocked soldier is useless if they cannot pull out the right item as soon as it is needed!”

“I will,” Loid called back. “Are you a former soldier like myself, Na-bi?”

“Ah, yes, I served a year and a half touring my home country under a Monster Subjugation Brigade,” Na-bi replied sheepishly. “It’s nothing much to talk about, honestly. Anyway, I’ve finished fitting Anya’s new dress! Want to see?”

“Hurry, Papa, hurry!” Anya cried, excited.

“I will, I will,” Loid said pulling aside the curtain.

Anya was smiling and examining herself, stopped as she realized that Loid could see her now, and then, as if she had been right on time, she threw her arms out, posed, and cried, “Ta-dah!”

From the literal rags she wore, she was now in a simple long-sleeved dress, off-white at the top that turned into a dark blue for its skirt, with a silver-white bow on her collar. It was extremely simple and plain in design, presumably because these clothes were designed to be easily produced, adjusted, and repaired, for handing down to countless generations of other kids of all shapes and sizes.

“You look adorable, Anya,” Loid said, smiling.

“Not just that, Papa! Look!” Anya cried as she began to spin around. “Anya’s skirt goes whoosh-whoosh!”

Loid watched as Anyas’s skirt started fluttering around her, much like Vahlen’s dress did. Anya started laughing, Loid and the others started clapping and her on—until Anya got dizzy and stumbled.

“Oh--!” Na-bi gasped, reaching out to her.

Loid rushed from the other side of the room and caught Anya before she did.

Na-bi winced and closed her eyes at the sudden rush of air.

Vahlen stood unfazed, though his dress was billowing in Loid’s wake. “My, my, Mr. Forger, was I misinformed when I was told you were a water magia? You seemed to disappear into thin air just now,” he said as he walked over.

“You were not, I just happened to be trained to summon bursts of speed in times of need like this,” Loid said as he stabilized Anya. “Are you okay, Anya?”

“Anya’s okay,” Anya said, a bit dazed. “Papa’s super fast!”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Loid said. As Anya got back on her feet and Loid took her hand, he said, “I believe we should be going now, many more preparations to do before we can set out from Reinseburg.”

“Oh, you’re both going out?!” Na-bi said, surprised. “Wait right here!” she said, rushing over to a series of chests along the wall.

Loid watched as Na-bi worked on one with a complex series of mechanical locks, gears, levers, and other mechanisms quietly clicking, whirring, and turning before it finally unlocked, four shelves slid out in a column.

Na-bi scooped up the contents of one of them into her arms and hurried over, Anya gasped and her eyes lit up as she realized what they were.

“TOYS!” Anya cried.

“Not just any toys, guardian toys!” Na-bi said as she squatted so Anya could reach and see the colorful plushies herself. “Pick any one of them! Whoever calls out to you is going to be the best choice!”

Loid examined them. Far from being simple bears, bunnies, or dogs, all of the toys seemed to be based on monsters, with felt wings, bushy manes of thread, soft fabric claws, and faces with big eyes and lines for mouths.

“Anya picks… this one!” Anya cried, picking out a pink and teal one with yellow horns much like the cones on her head.

“The chimera!” Na-bi said, smiling. “Nice choice! They’ve always got a tool for every situation, so no matter what you find yourself facing, this one is always going be able to protect you!”

Anya giggled as she hugged it to her chest, the soft body squishing and yielding to her arms as designed.

"I take it from the security that this isn't just a toy?" Loid quietly asked Vahlen.

"It's a very low-level magical focus until she's old enough to start wielding proper wands and other mages’ tools,” Vahlen whispered back. “It won’t hold enough of a charge that it might explode and hurt her and others, but in times of crisis, it can amplify her power enough to fight back until help arrives or dissuade hostiles from further pursuit.

“No cost like everything else, Mr. Forger. Children’s lives and safety are priceless.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said.

“Papa!” Anya cried, proudly holding up her new toy. “Meet Mr. Chimera!”

Loid smiled as he bent down and reached out to take one of Chimera’s paws. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Chimera,” he said as they “shook.”

“Pleasure to meet Anya’s Papa, too!” Anya said, making a gruff, “monstrous” voice.

Loid resisted the urge to laugh but Na-bi and Vahlen weren’t as strong of will.

“What’s so funny?” Anya continued in the “Chimera” voice as she held him up to Na-bi then Vahlen. “Making fun of Anya?”

“No, not at all, Mr. Chimera!” Vahlen said, looking to the side.

“Same, we’re sorry,” Na-bi said, hands over her mouth.

“Chimera” harrumphed before Anya lowered him.

“Let’s go, Anya, Mr. Chimera,” Loid said, reaching out to her. “We still need to make two more stops.”

“Okay, Papa!” Anya cried, hugging Chimera with one arm while she took Loid’s hand with her other.

They said their farewells and headed off to their next stop: the blacksmith and weapons shop next door.

Chapter Text

Aside from being next door to Vahlen’s shop, the weapons store was also easy to find by its sign’s logo: swords, spears, bows, maces, and what looked to be magic wands all crossed together at their points or heads.

Those same items were on the one wide display window, visible between signs of the shop’s other services like sharpening, repairs, reforging or remaking, and “power gem” replacement and resetting for both weapons and non-combat tools alike.

Again, there was a chime when Loid opened the door, only this time, it was a metal bell that rang for some time.

Loid examined the wire attached to it and running along the wall, he realized it was connected to another bell deeper inside the store, behind the counter and a door to the backroom.

“A moment!” a woman’s calm, deep voice said through the wall. “I don’t often expect customers this early. I will be out, with haste.”

“I’ll just browse till then!” Loid replied as he began to look at the store’s wares.

“Ooh...” Anya said, in awe as she followed behind him and clutched Chimera. “So many shiny thingies...”

“Don’t touch anything, Anya,” Loid said, “you might hurt yourself.”

Whereas Loid was used to weapons displays being firearms mounted on walls or laid out on stands underneath glass cases, this weapons store had almost all of its selection hanging on or slotted into freestanding racks and sometimes “bargain” bins and barrels. The aisles were easy for two adults to walk-shoulder-to-shoulder and were quite long, so anyone that had decided to unsheathe a sword or pick a spear or staff off its rack could examine it at full length and test its weight without hitting something or someone.

Swinging it and testing its handling and effectiveness in combat was probably done in the testing ground Loid had seen a glimpse of while outside.

All the weapons looked to be from medieval to early modern warfare, by Earth’s standards. Aside from all the bladed, pointed, or blunt weapons he had already seen, there were bows, crossbows, and gunpowder (or rather, “blastpowder”) firearms. But, even those last ones were reminiscent of early firearms with breech-loading mechanisms, single-shot lever-action mechanisms, revolving mechanisms, and cardboard or paper bullet cartridges rather than the metal casings, spring-loaded magazines, and repeating or automatic actions Loid was used to.

The materials were also quite different from what he knew: bone, teeth, scale, leather, hides, feathers, horns, and antlers, alongside the usual metal and wood and oftentimes not just for decoration.

(If this world’s peoples are constantly besieged by monsters, then necessity demands they must become like monsters,) Loid thought.

He heard another, different bell ringing from behind the counter, turned to look, and found a tall, muscular woman with dark olive skin stepping out. Her mostly bare arms were full of old burns and cuts, she had a leather apron over her shirt, and her hair tied back with a bandana.

But, the most obvious and striking feature of her gave Loid pause for a moment.

“Papa,” Anya said, pointing, “that Big Lady has rocks for eyes.”

“Anya,” Loid hissed quietly.

The woman laughed. “Chastise not with such haste, Sir. What offense is there in saying what is true and unhidden?”

Loid nodded slowly. “My apologies then, Anya. I acted too quickly.”

“Mm,” Anya said, unbothered. “What are those rocks, Big Lady?”

“I ‘see’ the world with them,” the woman replied. “I lost the yes I was born with long ago. There are yet imperfect, however. In many ways, I am still blind.”

“I see. No pun intended,” Loid said, holding out his hand. “I’m Loid Forger, and this would be my daughter, Anya. You would be, Miss?”

“Kasagandra of Vulkanon,” she said as she held out hers. “’Kass,’ to most.”

Loid watched as Kass struggled for a few moments to find Loid's hand. And when she found it, she shook Loid's hand with a firm, powerful grip. It was, unsurprisingly, heavily calloused and the rest of her skin felt rough and hard like she was not made of flesh but living stone.

“Pardon me for asking, but how do I address you formally? Ms. Kasagandra or Ms. Vulkanon?” Loid asked.

“Ms. Kasagandra,” Kass replied before she smiled. “Of ‘Ms. Vulkanons,’ there are hundreds here in and around Port Illyria. You’ll sound silly if you say that, Mr. Forger.”

“Thank you for answering, I’ll keep it in mind, Ms. Kasagandra. Now, to business,” Loid said as he pulled out the emblem again. “Captain Aleina told me to give you this,” he said, pressing it into Kass’s hand.

Kass wrapped her fingers around it, again, the emblem glowed, and after about a minute she nodded calmly and handed it back. “With me, to the backroom,” she said as she undid a hidden mechanical lock, part of the seemingly solid counter swung inwards and open. “Your needs demand the best I have.”

Anya gasped. “Even shinier things?!”

“Even shinier things, little one,” Kass said as she gestured with an arm for them to go first.

The Forgers did, the counter swung shut behind them with a quiet “click.”

Into the backroom they went, where Loid saw rows upon rows of wood and metal boxes of varying shapes and sizes, all set around a set of three columns, so far as Loid could see. Kass put a foot on the metal plate before them, two different columns began to glow, and unseen gears and mechanisms whirred to life.

Anya gasped and squealed with delight as the boxes began to turn like spinning gears before stopping at different times.

Kass opened two boxes, not with a key, but with her hand and her magic, the locks seemingly reacting and verifying it was her before they opened. One of them contained a curved, single-edged sword, the other was a pistol. But, both had slots for what looked like a modern firearm's magazine except instead of being made of metal or plastic with spring-loaded bullets, there were solid crystals or series of crystals loaded into some mysterious carved stones or wood.

“Woah…!” Anya gasped, awestruck. “So cool, Ms. Kass, so cool!”

“Was all that really necessary for security and safe storage of these devices?” Loid asked.

“No, all for show,” Kass replied, shaking her head. “Rich, ignorant customers are willing to pay more this way.”

Loid blinked. Then, he laughed. “Very clever.”

Kass smiled. “Thank you.” Her expression turned serious as she said, “Take them now. How do they sing in your hands?”

Loid took them one at a time, loading the “magazines” into the hilt of the sword and into the grip of the pistol. He felt them automatically drawing power from his body, his magic flowed into the carved lines, and the original pale blue of the gems began to change color and then glow the same hue as Loid’s eyes.

“Even cooler...” Anya said, mesmerized.

“Are they not?” Kass said, smiling. “Mr. Forger?”

“They ‘sing’ and harmonize well with me, I believe,” Loid said, testing his hold on the sword, switching up his grip on its hilt and holding it like a large knife, before aiming the gun at an empty section of the wall, well away from both Kass and Anya.

They had stopped automatically drawing power now that they seemed live and loaded. But still, Loid could feel his power coursing through them and back into his body, they felt like literal extensions of himself more than any weapons had before.

“We must give them a stage to perform and make certain,” Kass said. “With me, to outside.”

They went back into the public section of the store, then Kass led them through a side door. It led out to an open-air shed with a fence, the ground was made of hard-packed dirt with distance markers in stone and painted lines. Far off on the other side, there stood dummies of straw and canvas.

“Stay here, little one,” Kass said, pointing to a small bench with a table in one corner.

“Do as she says, Anya,” Loid said. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“Okay, Papa!” Anya said, scurrying over to the bench. She climbed on it, sat Chimera on her lap, and watched with wide-eyed anticipation.

“Weapons free?” Loid asked Kass.

“Let them sing mightily, their stage is from here to there," Kass said, tapping her foot on the thickest and most obvious line on the floor and then pointing at the heavily scarred back wall.

“Understood,” Loid said, raising the pistol and bracing it against his sword arm.

He concentrated on the pistol and remembered his time at the Paladia's kitchen sink. His magic surged into it, he could feel it growing stronger as it entered the pistol, a steady thrum that grew louder and louder like slowly increasing water pressure in a pipe.

Was this what Kass meant by their “singing?”

When it seemed that the gun could take no more, Loid stopped charging, put his finger off the barrel and on the trigger, and started shooting at a dummy’s center of mass.

Semi-auto, one bullet of water at a time, coming as fast as he could pull the trigger. Double taps, twin bolts coming so close they were almost joined together as one. Loid paused and thought for a moment, experimented a little, and soon, three-shot bursts fired with each pull.

There was almost no recoil to speak of. This wasn’t powered by explosive propulsion that kicked back at Loid with each shot. There was only the small thrum and tremble of the power coursing through the pistol, massed around the relatively heavier grip and in its “magazine.”

Behind him, Anya gasped and squealed in excitement, eyes wide and sparkling as she watched.

(How about full-auto?) Loid thought, holding the trigger down.

Pssshhhtttt…!

A solid stream of water shot out, so heavily pressurized and straight it was like a laser beam. It didn’t just soak the canvas and blast the stuffing underneath, it started cutting into it and then piercing through it, he could see it starting to splash the back wall.

Loid was starting to feel his steady aim waver and quickly pulled his finger off the trigger. The flow stopped almost immediately, the last of the stream sputtering out like a fire hose that just had its water valve slammed shut.

“Impressive,” Kass said. “Where you aim, they always go.”

“You could ‘see’ my bullets?” Loid asked. “I guessed as much but I’d like to confirm it.”

Kass pointed to her eyes. “In that respect, these are perfect. I see now why Al insisted on only the best for you.”

“That was SO COOL, Papa!” Anya cried. “Anya wants a shooty thingy, too!”

“No, Anya, not until you have grown up plenty and we can get one for you at a discount," Loid said as he tried sucking the excess charge from the pistol’s magazine, with ease and success.

“Listen to your father, little one,” Kass said. “And what of your guardian? Do you wish to replace him so soon or make him fear it?” she asked as she pointed at Chimera.

“Mr. Chimera?” Anya asked, holding him up.

“Yes, him," Kass said. "Will he feel jealous? Will he feel forgotten? Will he no longer protect his master so soon after he took on his duty?"

“No!” Anya cried, hugging Chimera. “Anya’s sorry, Mr. Chimera, Anya didn’t mean it like that!”

“Good,” Kass said, nodding. “Give him your care, and he will care for you, little one.”

“Thank you for the assistance,” Loid whispered.

“Respect for tools must be taught and ingrained in the little ones,” Kass whispered back. “Their lives must both be as long or longer still. Now, Mr. Forger: at far, your aim is divine. How are you at face?”

“Much worse, relatively speaking,” Loid said, actively charging the sword now. “Usually, I don’t intend my enemies to ever get that close.”

(Or aware I was even there to begin with,) he added to himself.

“Let your blade sing at face, then,” Kass said, raising her hand.

There was the sound of something bursting out of the dirt, Loid looked and saw that the dummy was on a metal anchor shaped like a double-sided plow. Kass gestured her hand towards her, Loid watched as the dummy zoomed towards him until it stopped, just out of range unless he lunged or thrust.

Kass made a fist and closed her hand, the anchor sank back into the ground, seemingly filling and packing itself back into the ground, though the rest of the gash remained.

“Wow… that was cool, too...” Anya said.

Loid hid his surprise. There was no good out of looking impressed and fascinated by something that should have been completely normal for a magia like him.

Kass stepped back from Loid and then said, "Careful if you're fond of spinning."

“I’m not,” Loid said.

The sword was fully charged, he noticed both the sharp edge and the blunt, curved back were glowing along with their outlines, and when the morning sun hit it, it reflected light like currents in the sea. Loid held the sword up like he would a particularly large knife, hoping that type of training would translate well to this.

Loid took a deep breath, time slowed down for him. This time, there was a constant wave of currents pulsing from his sword, and as he moved to slice, he saw something new: a straight, glowing line, as if his power was calmly saying to him,

“Cut here.”

Loid slashed. Then, he slashed again, and again, and again, and again. Following the currents, the lines, he felt his arm moving with incredible grace and speed, assaulting the dummy with the force of a violent rainstorm. He could see the clean lines he was ripping into the fabric, he was severing the straw underneath, the chunks being taken out of the wooden post underneath.

Then, as he felt the power rapidly draining from the sword and it was almost empty, he saw it: a line from his waist, moving straight into the dummy’s center.

“HAH!”

Loid thrust!

There was the sound of cracking glass—no, ice. The area around the stabbed section turned to frost. Loid felt his power surging forward several inches further than the blade’s tip. Sunlight off a brand new icicle, spearing through the dummy’s wooden post.

Then, the moment Loid tried to yank his sword out, the ice exploded, turning into so many little shiny snowflakes.

He heard Anya cheering but Loid was more concerned with his sword. It looked frosted over, then wet as it rapidly melted, until suddenly, the blue-hued metal seemed to absorb the leftover droplets. He touched it and it felt room temperature and dry to his bare fingers.

“Never had the privilege of using Blackbell Arms before, have you?” Kass asked.

Loid looked up, Kasagranda was smiling. He shook his head and said, “No, I have not. I’m assuming this is the top-of-the-line brand among magical weapons here around Port Illyria?”

“Blastpowder arms and munitions, and military vehicles as well,” Kass replied. “’In battle, there is no better than Blackbell.’ Or so they would like their clientele to believe.”

“No offense intended, but how did you get these?” Loid said as he lowered the sword.

“There was once a daughter of a rich merchant,” Kass said. “She fancied herself a daring explorer and monster hunter. With little more than her wits, skills, and the best equipment and mercenaries that her family’s money could buy, she set out from Port Illyria for adventure.

“After a few weeks, she finally decided the life of danger and uncertainty was not for her, and she sold her weapons to me at a steep discount just to be rid of them and the memories they carried.”

Loid chuckled. “I see. Are you certain you don’t want to hold onto this to sell to someone else?”

“I couldn’t if I tried, Mr. Forger,” Kass said, smiling ruefully. “Anyone who is seriously looking for a Blackbell will have been able to afford one straight from their verified resellers, or are looking for a dealer more reputable than a mostly-blind blacksmith in a small town like this.

“And while on payment: consider them my gift to you, independent of Al’s order,” Kass said. “It seems like you have much to give Reinesburg but you will need the proper tools to do so.”

“Can Anya get a sharp thingy, too?” Anya said. “Mr. Chimera says Anya can have that.”

Loid sighed. “I’ll teach you how to use a knife in the kitchen first, Anya, then, we can talk about you carrying a knife for fighting.”

“Aww… okay...” Anya muttered.

Loid turned to Kass—and then his stomach rumbled quietly.

Kass chuckled. She reached into her apron and pulled out a glass bottle, full of some mysterious glowing blue liquid. “Here,” she said.

Loid took it. “Lesser Mana Potion,” the label said. “Thank you,” he said as he uncorked it and began to drink.

It was the strangest drink that Loid had ever had. It was as if someone had made a liquid that behaved much like water and looked like it, but did not particularly taste of anything at all, and could only be felt going down your throat and into your gut. Loid’s hunger disappeared in a hurry, power surged through his veins once more with renewed vigor, and the liquid seemingly disappeared from his stomach—or perhaps, was absorbed more perfectly than any other substance could.

(So this is probably how you sustain a magia in battle,) Loid said as he corked it again and put the empty bottle into one of the bags of his new belt.

“After we finalize this sale, you should return that empty bottle to Nihls, our town’s alchemist. He’s across the street from here,” Kass said.

“The building with the multiple chimney stacks and suspiciously-colored smoke coming out of them?” Loid asked.

“The odd smells are how you know he’s inside,” Kass said, smiling. More seriously, she continued, “You’ll also want to ask him about the object Al has tasked you with finding. He examined the one we found yesterday and may have discovered something new since then.”

“I will, thank you,” Loid said.

They headed back inside, Loid signed some paperwork certifying the Blackbell weapons he was buying were both legally acquired and resold, did not have illegal or aftermarket modifications, and did not have serial numbers tampered with to make them difficult or impossible to trace. Meanwhile, Kass borrowed his belt and sewed on a scabbard for the sword and a holster for his pistol—or rather, spellslinger.

He couldn’t recognize the foreign characters stitched inside as a signature and was told it was “Nam Na-bi,” in her native language.

(It seems whatever power brought me here thought it was only important to learn the common tongue, and not all of the world’s languages,) Loid thought. (Little mind, I’ve learned foreign languages before, I can do it again.)

“Almost time to head out to adventure, Papa?” Anya asked as they left Kass’s shop.

“Just one more stop, Anya,” Loid said, looking at the store across the street.

It was, compared to the rest of Reinesburg's buildings, suspiciously isolated without any next-door neighbors, it had small, empty plots of land surrounding it with no apparent purpose and seemingly no one willing to stay there or linger for very long.

A buffer zone, in case of a chemical explosion or some other disaster?

Loid was aware of how dangerous chemicals could be, with how often he had to foil or investigate weapons meant to cause horrific, permanent damage to vast swathes of the intended targets and countless innocent victims afterward. He was also no stranger to handling them himself, especially the ones designed to deny enemies information and protect WISE even at the cost of an agent’s life.

With how much more dangerous and powerful this word’s “magic” already seemed to be, how much more could they get when combined with something that might resemble science?

Chapter Text

“Papa, this place really does smell funny,” Anya said as they neared the door to “Nihl’s Atelier.” “Anya doesn’t like it...”

“Bear with it, Anya,” Loid said as he put his hand on the knob. “We need information and supplies, it’s best we get it from the source.”

“Mmm...” Anya replied, uneasy.

Loid opened the door, instead of a pleasant chime or a bell, there was a small, sharp buzz. The smell, thankfully, wasn't intensely stronger inside, but that was probably because there were at least three ventilation fans constantly going on the walls or the ceiling.

Far from the welcoming colors and neat displays of either Vahlen’s tailor shop or Kass’s weapon store, Nihl’s shop reminded Loid of an intentionally unmarked, unlabeled, nondescript warehouse outlet. There was nothing on the walls outside of information signs, the only furniture for customers was a bench by the door, and all the shelves were behind the counter, the products either packed inside shipping boxes or in trays to be moved in bulk.

The only person Loid could see did not look particularly “customer-friendly,” either.

Loid could only see him from the waist up, but when that view was composed of a full-face gas mask, a completely bald head with leather straps tight against it, and dark robes that reminded Loid of a plague doctor, it said more than enough.

Despite the opaque eye lenses and the bulky respirator over the nose and mouth, Loid thought that the man was smiling.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice muffled and distorted for the respirator. He paused to inhale then continued, “You must be Mr. Forger. And his daughter, Anya.”

“Mmmn…!” Anya whined, clinging to Loid’s pant leg once more.

Loid reached down and patted her on the head before he walked awkwardly to the counter. Yes, that would be us,” he said. “Would you happen to be Mr. Nihls, the town’s alchemist.”

“Yes. My name is Nihls,” he replied.

Loid waited.

And then, after an awkward silence, Loid asked, “… Was there anything else aside from ‘Nihls’…?”

“No,” Nihls said, shaking his head. “Sorry. For keeping you in suspense.”

Again, Loid could feel Nihls was smiling, despite being unable to see it.

“Papa, Anya doesn’t like Scary Mask Guy…!” Anya whined.

Loid sighed. “Bear with it, Anya,” he said as he pulled out the emblem and handed it over.

Nihls finally raised a hand above the counter, Loid could see it was covered in thick, clean black gloves that resembled leather more than rubber. Instead of wrapping his fingers around it like the other two shop owners had, however, Nihls lowered his coat’s left sleeve and pressed it on his clothed wrist.

“Ah,” he said after a moment. “The Numbing Death investigation. It’s moving again.”

“Should you really be saying that out loud, Mr. Nihls?” Loid asked. “I was under the impression that this emblem was for the purposes of discretion.”

“To be fair to me, Mr. Forger: does it seem like anyone is eavesdropping?" Nihls said as he gestured around him.

Loid looked around. Aside from the fact that it was just the three of them in the immediate vicinity, if he was going to be listening in to Nihl’s shop, it would be with a remote bug as he couldn’t possibly stay here for very long without a personal oxygen supply.

“Touche,” Loid said as he turned back to Nihls.

“Papa…!” Anya whined.

“Pardon me, Mr. Nihls, but may we hurry this up?” Loid said, giving an embarrassed smile.

“Of course,” Nihls said, reaching underneath the counter. “By Gazyl’s account and then, my examination of the leftover residue: I’m certain that the Numbing Death was made very, very recently.”

Thunk, clink-clink-clink. Nihls put down a wooden tray with glass bottles stoppered with cork and ceramic ones sealed with wax, instead.

“It’s a very potent poison,” Nihl said as he started setting out bottles. “But, it’s very hard to make. And, it loses potency, fast.”

The blood-red ones were labeled "Greater Healing Potion." As Loid picked them up, the label listed what sorts of injuries and ailments they could and could not cure, with small graphics to help.

“Don't get me wrong," Nihls said as continued his work, "Even after 2, 3 years, it will always be highly lethal. But, at that speed and effectiveness, Mr. Forger? It can't have been older than a week, maybe a few days, even."

On the counter were deep blue potions now, “Greater Mana Potions.”

“So,” Loid said as he stowed them away, “you’re guessing that our suspect must be somewhere within the area of Reinesburg or Port Illyria, for the bandits who almost killed me to have acquired and used it so quickly?”

“Just Reinesburg,” Nihls replied. “Fresh Numbing Death has too strong of a magical signature. It would never get past customs. Neither would any smuggler want to risk it. If they intended to use it in Port Illyria, it would have been made there, as well.”

“So somewhere, outside of town, there seems to be some master poisoner who has produced and distributed this poison for reasons unknown,” Loid said as he organized his potions in his bags.

“Precisely,” Nihls said as he pulled out the ceramic bottles last. “Hence, why Captain Aleina is asking me to supply you with these, as well.”

Loid checked them. “Flashpowder Grenade,” it read.

“For capturing our theorized poisoner alive?” he said as he secured them with small leather belt loops rather than inside a pouch.

“Or stunning and killing them. You know, before they get the chance to poison you directly. Possibly with more Numbing Death,” Nihls said. “I wouldn’t put it past them. It’s said, one must be intimately familiar with poisons and murder, to even manufacture it.”

Loid hummed as he finished securing the last grenade on his belt.

“You don’t seem too fazed, Mr. Forger,” Nihls said.

“I was a butler for an especially disorderly noble house fraught with enemies, Mr. Nihls,” Loid said. “Ill-intentioned ne’er-do-wells who resort to underhanded tactics and cunning enemies are nothing new to me.”

“I see, I see. Yes, that makes sense,” Nihls deadpanned. “You were a butler, after all.”

Loid did not press it. “With one that almost killed me for the bolt, Mr. Gazyl reporting having found a second earlier this morning, how many more do you think are lurking out there?”

“Just a third, that was also recently made. I’d bet money on it,” Nihls replied. “Numbing Death is a very work-intensive poison. Needs almost sterile conditions. Deft, skilled hands used to precision work. Also, rare components. Ones from live, powerful monsters. And who won’t give them up, not without a fight.

“Also, the possibility of near-instant death to the maker, in an accident. But, after two known doses: I wouldn't count on it happening."

Loid nodded. “Any more advice?”

“Just one more,” Nihls replied. “If you don’t need my products in bulk. Or something manufactured through alchemy. Buy from the Vishafells. They run the general store. You can grab your flour, eggs, and milk. Then, your toothpaste, burn cream, and dish soap. Then, you can stop by the Savanwood Bakery next door, and see what's fresh from the oven.

“And best of all, you don’t need to talk to me!” Nihls finished cheerfully. “It all works out for everyone, really.”

“Mmm, Anya’s happy about that,” Anya said, nodded.

Loid didn’t know how to react and decided it might just be best to say his farewell and leave.

Thankfully, the smell didn’t cling to their clothes and stayed at Nihls’s workshop. Anya wanted a few minutes to breathe some fresh air again, Loid took the opportunity to sit down on a bench and finally activate the emblem himself.

Having seen it done three times by three different people, all human magia or magic-users as well, Loid gripped the emblem in his hand and let some of his magic flow into it.

Aleina’s magic flowed right back, he could suddenly hear her voice in his head.

“Forger, if you’re hearing this: thank you, you’ve followed all my instructions and the first half of a plan goes smoothly, for once! Now, comes the hard part: since you’re equipped and ready, head to the South Gate, just ask anyone for directions. There will be a male cat Warbeast with gray fur, a dark green cloak, and a snarky attitude lounging around there, looking bored if he hasn’t found something else to do.

“As you might have guessed already, that would be Gazyl, the same one that found Anya and helped rescued you yesterday, and who I had searching for more Numbing Death after we learned of the one that almost killed you.

“You should know that we here at Reinesburg have a complicated legal relationship with him. He’s clanless with no known living relatives, and he’s not a formal citizen nor has any interest in becoming one, so we can’t compel him to help us, only have him under an Independent Monster Hunter contract. He’s probably only agreed to this because we’re paying him and he’s just as afraid of getting hit by and dying of Numbing Death out there.

“But, and this is the important part, we've got a strong reason to believe that he knows who our suspect is, and he doesn't want to give them up..."

Too busy focusing on the briefing and the newness of having it transmitted directly into his head, Loid hadn’t noticed Anya staring at him intently, despite Loid having put on a perfect mask of a man just casually zoning out and enjoying the breeze while having a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

The emblem lost its glow once Aleina’s briefing was done and would not let itself be charged once more, at least if it wasn’t with Aleina’s magic. Despite having found himself in another world, it seems that self-destructing documents would remain a staple of OPSEC.

Anya was suddenly, mysteriously eager to go back on their “adventure” and Loid was happy to entertain the impulse. They soon found their way to the South Gate of Reinesburg via one of the smaller boats the residents used to get around town quickly. (They got on free, thanks to the emblem.)

It turns out that this way was towards the industrial section. For the most part, Loid saw three main trades:

Harvesting and synthesizing valuable minerals from or along the water of the Reines River to be shipped elsewhere;

Cutting and shaping the stone blocks that were shipped in raw from quarries and mining operations; or,

The processing of animals and monster carcasses, like tanning and drying hides and skins, crushing shells and grinding claws into powder, or sorting through plucked feathers and shaved furs to see which would be useful for what.

Loid worried a bit about how the gory nature of the last would affect Anya, but she seemed to be intensely curious and unbothered by the processes. And that was even with many of the manual laborers looking a bit monstrous themselves, with giant, hulking bodies like Fitzroy's bodyguards; strangely-colored and leather-like skin in shades of blue, green, red, and so on; plus, horns, fangs, and/or animal ears and tails.

(Death, violence, and blood seem to be nothing new for anyone here, it seems,) Loid thought.

He'd always thought of killing as just a way to stop worse people and preserve peace, or necessary evil as you tried to achieve those goals. Most people in his old world, thankfully, were far removed from ever needing to even seriously consider having to get violent or take the life of another living being, much more another person.

But, the monsters and violent criminals of this world wouldn’t seem to give these citizens that luxury.

Perhaps in that sense, Loid thought he should be happy he'd ended up here. Even without the Paladia's restaurant and their generosity, he'd already known he was very efficient at killing and could probably make a great living for both of them as a monster hunter or patrolling town guard, so deeply interwoven was combat in the fabric of this society.

But was that what he wanted to raise Anya to be, assuming she would become like him? Another killing machine? Perhaps a perpetual liar, as well?

This was the only identity Loid would ever have to take on ever again unless things went horribly wrong once more. Back then, he only ever thought of becoming the perfect incarnation of whatever WISE needed and his targets wanted of him, constantly changing identities and lives while hiding his true nature.

Like water, formless until it’s poured into a vessel and takes on its shape, then formless once more once it’s time to be poured out.

Now, he had the chance and the freedom to finally choose to be someone he chose to be. It wasn’t a clean slate and necessity demanded he continues to use his old skills as a spy and a soldier, but still, after everything was settled and stable:

Who was Loid Forger going to be, for himself and especially for his daughter?

He stopped as he felt Anya suddenly clutching his waist in a hug, a bit awkward as Chimera was squished between them.

“Anya?” Loid asked.

“Papa looked sad,” Anya said. “Anya doesn’t want Papa to be sad.”

Loid blinked before he found himself tearing up. He held it back as he hugged Anya back. “Thank you, Anya,” he said.

He put the identity crisis on the back burner, except for one new thing he remained sure of: that Loid Forger was not a father who would deny his daughter physical affection or reject it if she offered it.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re at the South Gate, Mr. Forger,” said their ferryman. “Time to get off.”

“Thank you for the notice,” Loid said. “Come on, Anya.”

“Okay,” Anya said, reluctantly letting go.

“Good luck with whatever the Captain’s got you doing, Mr. Forger,” the ferryman said as they got off.

“Thank you,” Loid said as he stepped onto the dock, he picked Anya up off the boat and carried her in his arm once more.

The ferryman would be staying a while, to wait for other potential customers or decide to check the other docks. But Loid resumed moving immediately, climbing up the stairs and back to ground level before scanning the area.

Anya joined him then gasped and pointed. “Papa, over there! Hi again, Mr. Gazyl!”

Loid looked and found some bushes. And then, those bushes rustled and suddenly sprouted grey-furred cat ears and a tail.

Poof!

The disguise fell away with a cloud of magical smoke, stray leaves, and branches flying off. And when it settled, there was a short, lithe, and rather skinny looking humanoid in a dark green cloak, blending perfectly with the color of the nearby foliage.

“Aah, and here I thought I was starting to get better at my camouflage in town!” Gazyl cried before he clucked his tongue, stood up, then walked over.

Upon closer inspection, Loid found Gazyl’s cloak had similar mysterious embroidery as Vahlen’s robes, only this time it was made to look like leaves and flowers growing on vines or branches.

“Good job, Anya,” Loid said, smiling at her before he put her down. “Mr. Gazyl, I take it?”

“Yep, and just call me Gazyl, no ‘Mister,’ Forger,” Gazyl said as he pulled his hood off and extended his hand.

Or was it paw? He had a thumb and four fingers, just like Loid, but they were longer, covered completely in gray fur up to some unknown point of his arm, and they ended in feline claws instead of human fingernails.

Loid shook Gazyl’s “hand” nonetheless. “If you insist, Gazyl. Thank you, by the way, for rescuing me and my daughter yesterday. We owe you our lives.”

“Don’t mention it,” Gazyl said flatly as he waved him off. “No one wants the monsters thinking anything vaguely humanoid-shaped is easy food. Plus, you wiped out those bandits I was tracking and hunting down, too.”

He spat into the canal and grumbled, “Human traffickers are the worst kind of scum, especially those that target little kids.”

Anya hummed in agreement.

“So,” Gazyl said as he turned back to Loid, “I’m guessing since you’re here and I know you’re a magia, you’re going to be my key to surviving potentially being poisoned to death by one of the most lethal substances in the realm?"

“Yes,” Loid said. “I’m also prepared to help you fight off any other threats to us while we’re outside the walls,” he said, gesturing to his new weapons.

“Anya is, too!” Anya said, raising Chimera. “Anya’s got Chimera now!”

"Well, isn't this a happy change from yesterday?" Gazyl said, smiling. "Though, try and stay out of trouble, just like I told you yesterday, kid. Even though your Papa's conscious now and not threatening to break my back and knees, there’s still a lot of threats out there that can snap up you up, even with the both of us watching and ready to spring to action.”

“Anya will be a good girl again, Gazyl!” Anya said, nodding:

“And you, Forger: no heroics again until we’re completely deep in the sh—“ Loid glared, Gazyl glanced at Anya like he just remembered she was there “--ah, muck, alright? We got lucky you were both close to town already and that I was already hot on those bandits’ trail.”

“I’m hoping and planning that it won’t get to that point again either, Gazyl,” Loid said.

“Good,” Gazyl said. “Because where the Captain’s sending us today? It’s going to be way downstream, way out of town, and way more dangerous than just a couple of bandits with junk weapons. There, there be monsters, the kind that made certain Reinesburg is the only town that ever lasted long on the Reines.

“Also? I’m leading,” Gazyl said, thumbing to himself. “I know this region, I know what lives in it, and I own the boat we’re taking.”

“Understood, but I wouldn’t have protested the decision,” Loid said. “It’d be foolish for me to be leading when we only arrived here yesterday.”

“Then you’re a lot wiser than a lot of the other magia that I got roped into guiding!" Gazyl said, gesturing for them to come with him as he headed for the nearby gate. "You know, Forger, you're a real pleasant guy when you're not out cold."

“Thank you, that makes me happy, because my wit and charm always tragically fail me when I’m unconscious,” Loid said.

Gazyl snorted and shook his head. “I’m starting to like you, Forger.”

The guards had already been alerted ahead of time, they let Gazyl and the Forgers through the gate. There was another, larger dock outside the walls, where a small boat was tied to a post, with an engine just like Aleina’s. The hull looked extremely old and well-traveled, along with some old scratches and missing hunks in the shape of teeth marks, but it was clean and had clearly been religiously maintained to have lasted as long as it did in such good condition.

Gazyl got in first and began to charge the engine, the lines and the crystal on it glowed pale olive, like his eyes.

Meanwhile, Loid helped Anya onto the boat. He untied it and set them to floating, then was about to sit down and get comfortable with Anya.

However, Gazyl groaned and then said, “Hey, Forger? Lend a hand, please?”

“You need an extra charge?” Loid asked as he looked.

“Yep,” Gazyl said, nodding and patting the engine. “Believe me, this baby still works fine but when I leave her tied up and on empty for a few hours like this, the starter acts up, it thinks she needs more juice to get going than she really needs to.”

“So you need a burst of power or a steady supply of it?” Loid asked as he put Anya aside and came over to the engine.

“Whatever you can give, so long as she starts and we’re not stuck here,” Gazyl grumbled. “On three: one, two, three.”

Both their hands glowed, and the engine's runes and carved lines started to glow both pale olive green and light blue—then the blue suddenly surged through the lines and overwhelmed the green.

The engine started with a roar, the boat jerked forward!.

“WOAH…!” Gazyl cried, grabbing onto the side for dear life. “Cripes, this engine hasn’t started this strong in years!”

“Maybe Ms. Engine just likes Papa more than Gazyl,” Anya said, pointing at it.

Gazyl looked at the engine, turned to Anya, then did a double-take. “What the hell?! It’s running off on only your magic, Forger! No one else has charged her for years but me!”

“Maybe it’s happy to have a change of pace for once?” Loid joked, smirking.

Gazyl groaned as he manned the steering handle. ”Come on, man, this is my boat, don’t do this to me just when I was starting to like you…!"

Chapter Text

Gazyl either accepted or just chose to ignore his engine’s “betrayal” for now, so the three of them were soon moving downstream from Reinesburg and along the Reines River.

At first glance, it seemed long and mostly straight with a mild current, and devoid of any apparent and immediate dangers like whirlpools, rapids, and large, treacherous patches of rocks that you could dash a boat into. But, Loid couldn’t help but notice that it often split into two or more forks frequently like it did back in Reinesburg, and there were several smaller creeks and streams branching off of it and deeper into the forests and swamps at its banks. There were also often remnants of small watchtowers, wooden docks, and shelters that were built and empty for now or left abandoned, like the shack Loid had first found himself in.

And, despite the hard freshwater and what Loid knew of chemistry and ecology from Earth, the Reines River was a very ecologically diverse and lively place.

Anya gasped and cooed at the many animals or peaceful monsters they passed by.

She clung to the edge of the boat to look at the fish, eels, and shellfish that were underneath the water’s surface, almost all of them with hard, mineral-like shells or scales, swimming along and shining as the light hit them or glimmering in one spot if they were burrowed along the riverbed. So far as Loid could tell, if they weren’t predators, they seemed to be feeding on or filtering out rocks and minerals that were either dissolved in or carried along and then deposited by the water.

The animals on the muddy and reed-littered banks at the sides were composed of snails, turtles, and freshwater crabs, picking through the muck and the grass to find worms, insects, and leftover carcasses from other predators. Then, larger, higher-chain predators like ducks, otters, and what looked like catfish ate them, forcing the surviving prey to scatter into the water or bury themselves deep into the muck.

Further past the shore, among the trees and the bushes, there were deer, bears, wild canines like wolves and foxes, and even some small creatures like rabbits. Though a good deal of them seemed to be nocturnal, Loid spotted them sleeping among burrows and shelters made out of the many decaying stumps, fallen logs, and shady trees that grew and died naturally along the Reines River.

And aside from seeing the local ecology himself, Loid finally got a good sense of what made animals, animals, and what made monsters, monsters.

A good number of the animals were distinctly different from their more mundane-looking counterparts. Some also had much brighter and more colorful hides and furs, sometimes even to the detriment of their natural camouflage, as if they were so powerful they had no reason to hide from predators or they were loudly announcing they were not to be trifled with.

Some had gem-like growths on their bodies, or what would have been made of keratin was instead made of crystal. And those natural gems and crystalline features often glowed and pulsed as they harnessed the powers of the elements like the sentient, humanoid residents of this world did.

There were large gray-blue crabs with one bigger, iridescent crystal claw. They would aim it at low-hanging branches and knock off, stun, or kill birds and insects by blasting them with jets of water.

Some of the male deer had crystal antlers that crackled with electricity. And when their herds seemed to notice a nearby threat, they were almost literally gone with the wind, summoning up gusts of air from their hooves and blasting themselves off to safety, leaving kicked up leaves, foliage, and trees flying in their wake.

And deep in the water, Loid could see sparks of electricity as very large catfish with crackling whiskers shocked the other river creatures, stunning or killing them and leaving them very easy prey to be devoured.

What was the biology like for monsters?

Were they related variants to normal creatures that had managed to develop and successfully pass down the “magic” genes that gave them their traits? Or were they like humans, with a consistently manifesting mutation or rare gene expression that normally occurred in the mostly non-magical population, even normal animals could give birth to monsters?

Were they much larger and more colorful because of these magical features and extra abilities making them much more successful in eating, surviving, and reproducing? Or were the "magic genes" just naturally predisposing them to larger sizes? Since magical power seemed not too dissimilar to chemical energy from food, they must have needed to process it much more efficiently so they wouldn’t starve to death.

Or, was it all just a massive combination of all those reasons, as complex, varied, and contextual as the many different humanoid species that were meshing together in one society here in Reinesburg and Port Illyria?

“Papa...” Anya said as she looked at Loid, shaking and wide-eyed with overwhelming excitement, “this place is so cool!”

Loid smiled and put an arm around her tiny shoulders. “It really is,” he said as they both turned to look at nature passing them by.

“I take it you’ve never lived or hunted in an ecological zone like this?” Gazyl asked as he continued sitting by the engine and steering.

“Yes, I have not,” Loid half-lied. “It’s been years since I’ve been trekking through and surviving in the wilderness as a soldier. After I became a butler, I was mostly in urban areas, far from nature.”

“Anya was mostly stuck inside till now,” Anya added.

Gazyl nodded. “So, you got any idea how to fight the monsters here, Forger? Or should I give you a primer about what sort of threats we’re expecting?”

“I’ll never say no to more information,” Loid said, turning his attention to Gazyl. He glanced down and said, “Anya?”

“Anya’s ready to listen!” Anya said, spinning around in her seat and putting Chimera on her lap. “Chimera is, too!”

“Alright, then,” Gazyl said. “Let the lecture begin.

“First danger you two need to understand: the fish, the snakes, and anything that lurks in the river we’re traveling on. Most of them tend to know you don’t target anything that looks vaguely like a boat, but anything and anyone that falls overboard is considered fair game to them. Especially to the bigger predators that can both detect and like to feed on magic-rich prey, such as human magia like you two or wyrde warbeasts like myself.

“You especially, kid," Gazyl said, looking at Anya. "The moment any of them notice you struggling in the water, they're going to try and snap you up before we can get to you because they know you're probably not going to be able to fight back."

Anya paled. “Anya doesn’t want to be eaten!” she yelled, shaking her head violently.

“Papa’s not going to let them,” Loid said, putting a hand on Anya’s shoulder before he looked back up at Gazyl. “So, aside from the obvious of ‘try not to literally rock the boat and tip any of us over the edge,’ what do we use in case someone goes overboard?”

“Water Rescue Spiders,” Gazyl said, reaching underneath his seat and pulling out some sort of device shaped like a circular piece of wood with multiple rope “legs” tucked underneath one side, with weights or floats on their ends.

“Once this thing is activated,” he pressed a button on it twice with two audible clicks, “just hurl it as close as you can get it to whoever is in the water, or if you’re the one overboard, try to grab it and put it on your chest before it starts trying to cling on.”

Gazyl smacked the rescue spider to his chest, the ropes shot and began to wrap around his body before it threw the floats up and out. Then, those began to expand with air and started glowing like beacons.

“It won’t stop monsters from attacking you still,” Gazyl said as he deactivated the device, it swiftly deflated and untangled itself from him, “but at least you won’t have to work to keep yourself afloat and your head above water, and we’ll be able to see you even in darkness or rough weather.”

Gazyl recharged it and then stuffed it back underneath one of the seats. “Of course, I’m guessing Forger here can always just skip the spider and go straight to fishing us out with a Water Whip and get us back on board that way. How strong are you there, Forger?”

“I haven’t had time to test or reason to use it recently,” Loid lied. “My strength may not be back to full since yesterday, too.”

“Let’s figure it out before we need it, then,” Gazyl said, slowing down and steering them closer to one side of the shore. “See that bough?” he said, pointing.

Loid saw a thick tree branch hanging over the water and nodded.

“Grab it, I’ll blast the engine, then we’ll see who gives first,” Gazyl said, slowing down even more.

Loid nodded. He pulled out his pistol, charged it as he aimed for the tree branch, and thought of a grappling pistol from his old life.

With the sound of water exploding out a pipe, a solid tendril of glowing water rushed from the barrel and wrapped around the branch. Loid put both hands securely on the grip and fed it a constant flow of magic, then tugged it a few times.

The tendril glowed and pulsed as if it were showing the force and stress acting on it, but it didn’t snap immediately and felt surprisingly solid.

“Getting ready to gun it,” Gazyl said, putting his hand back on the engine’s crystal.

“Get behind me, Anya,” Loid said. “I don’t want to crush you if I end up getting pulled down.”

“Mm!” Anya said, quickly climbing out of her seat and watching from the front of the boat.

“On three,” Gazyl said. “One, two, three!”

WHIIRRRRR…!

The engine and its propeller started screaming and kicking up a massive splash. Loid grunted and braced his knees against a seat as he was pulled toward the tree. The tendril glowed and flashed violently but did not give, both men strained and sweated until finally, Gazyl yelled:

“Cut it!”

Loid chopped the tendril with one hand, and the three of them yelped and cried out as the boat violently lurched forward.

Gazyl quickly wrestled the boat back under control.

Loid picked himself back up and dusted himself off. Then, he looked behind him and asked, “Anya? Are you alright?”

“Anya fell but Mr. Chimera caught Anya’s face!” Anya cried.

“That’s good,” Loid said before taking a breath and turning to the back. “Gazyl?”

“I’m fine,” Gazyl groaned. “Sheesh, when you said you were a soldier, did you mean navy, harpooning sea monsters and boarding pirate ships by swinging onto them without a gangplank?”

“Foot soldier for the army,” Loid replied. “Amphibian operations weren’t out of the question, though.”

“I see,” Gazyl said.

When the boat was back to a constant, safe cruising speed, Gazyl pulled out a wooden container from inside his coat and drank its contents. Then, he held it out to Loid and said, “Honeyberry tea, want some, Forger?”

“Thank you,” Loid said, pouring some of it into his mouth.

It was, unsurprisingly, incredibly sweet. Not as intensely so as the milk and honey mixture the Paladias had fed him but almost certainly meant to recharge a magic user after some serious use of their power. Was this because mana potions were more expensive, Gazyl’s preference, or because magic users tired of a drink that tasted of nothing?

“Anya wants to try!” Anya said.

“Later, kid, when we get back to town and hopefully still all in one piece,” Gazyl said as he took the container back from Loid. “I need this stuff to keep my energy up, your Papa can just buy you a bottle from the general store.”

“Aww...” Anya whined, frowning.

“We’ll get you a bag of peanuts with it, I promise,” Loid said, patting her on the head.

“Yay,” Anya said, smiling.

Loid made a note to either start a tab or ask for some advance payment from the Paladias if he couldn't find any alternative forms of income. Monster parts seemed to be an essential material to daily life, weren’t they?

“So, back before had our test,” Loid said. "I'm assuming there are at least a few other dangers to be wary of here on the Reines River?"

“Yeah, and here’s the second thing: shells, scales, hides, feathers, claws, and teeth like rocks and metal and are all over the place," Gazyl replied. "As you might have noticed already, Forger, since you're a water magia and all, the Reines River is pretty full of Earth and Water elemental energy both. So obviously, everything living here has taken advantage of that to grow some very tough natural armor.

“It probably won’t matter much to you, considering your magic can just bypass their defenses. But, be careful when you try to slash something, you might end up dulling and damaging your blade faster than you think. And if you’re going to thrust, make sure to aim for something soft and vulnerable, otherwise, you might get it stuck in something that is not going to be very happy.”

“Anything, in particular, to watch out for?" Loid said.

“The usual suspects:

“Ironfang Wolves that bite and won’t let go till they’ve taken chunks out of or pieces of you.

“Stonefeather Swans if you want to die a death of a thousand feathery needles and vicious pecks, all to the tune of their awful, awful honking.

“And the worst of all, the Steelhide Bears that are strong enough to rip through plate armor and still crush your bones if they don’t, and who can make themselves basically invulnerable to external damage. Thankfully, only temporarily, and without protecting them from any form of internal damage.

“You should know all three of those are pretty territorial and don't particularly enjoy fighting humans as much as we do try to hunt them down. We generally leave each other alone unless they stake claim too close to Reinesburg, or it's lean times in their usual spots and they start moving too close to Reinesburg's hunting grounds.

“So, we won’t get in trouble so long as you two follow me, and neither of you goes wandering off to go investigate something shiny or interesting without warning us adults first," Gazyl said, looking at Anya specifically.

Anya gulped. “Anya won’t. Anya will be a good girl.”

“I’ll keep her in my sights at all times, Gazyl,” Loid said.

“You better mean it, Forger,” Gazyl huffed. “I hate looking for lost little kids outside town in the wilds, and I especially hate it when it happens on my watch.”

Loid nodded. “I promise, Gazyl. So, is there a number three?”

Gazyl nodded. “It’s the last one but by the far the most important, because it’s the danger that kills and hospitalizes the most ignorant tourists and cocky hunters from outside the area. And right now specifically, happens to be pretty relevant for all of us!:

"The wilds around Reinesburg are full of poisonous plants and fungi, toxic sludge marshes, and deceptively clean-looking streams and creeks. A lot of animals take advantage of those by integrating those toxins, poisons, and hazardous materials into their bodies.

“To us, this means you don’t eat try to eat anything if you don’t know it’s toxic or how to deactivate it, or you be careful about getting bitten or scratched, especially if something starts to feel like its burning, smelling awful, or going numb.”

Loid nodded. “So this is how our suspect managed to create Numbing Death?”

“Bingo,” Gazyl said, nodding. “And speaking of the stuff,” he reached into his coat and pulled out something tightly wrapped in several layers of leather, “this is vial number #2 I recovered earlier this morning. You should know what it looks like and feels like while it’s still in a bottle and not in your bloodstream, Forger.”

Gazyl slowed the boat down dramatically and carefully unwrapped it.

Inside was a wide-mouthed, elongated glass vial, sealed tightly with wax and then another sturdy, thick cloth on top of it secured with metal wire. It was as if the creator was ensuring that if this were opened, it would not have been by accident, and without the prospect of trying to seal it again.

To Loid’s eyes, it felt evil, menacing, like the dark, ominous aura in cartoons and comics brought to life before his eyes and infinitely more unnerving than they could ever be on the page or the screen.

Perhaps it was lingering trauma from his near-death experience. Perhaps it was the effect of his new magical power and all the many new things Loid could see and sense now. Perhaps it was, as Nihls said, a byproduct of the creation process and what kind of person the creator needed to be, to create something like this.

But he did know, he definitely wasn’t the only one.

Anya whined and clutched Loid’s back. “Anya doesn’t like that...” she whimpered as she hid her face.

“Neither do I, Anya,” Loid said grimly. “Neither do I.”

What kind of person would create this? How would they react once they realized that Loid would probably need to hunt them down, to permanently put a stop to this? Would this end at their hypothetical #3 vial or would Reinesburg continue to be plagued by Numbing Death?

It all reminded him too much of his spy work and right now, he was without the support of WISE.

“On the brighter side of things,” Gazyl said as he quickly wrapped the Numbing Death back up and stored it in his cloak once more, “now you’ll definitely know it when you see it, just like I did.”

Loid nodded. “So the plan is to follow your lead, investigate any potential hidden stashes, or hidden labs this deep in the wilds?”

“Basically,” Gazyl replied. “I’ve got a camp already set up and a map with all the spots I’ve already hit and that I’ve made uninhabitable or unpleasant to come back to, so we won't have to look twice. It'll help if you use Search Wave if you know that spell, and attune it to the Numbing Death's signature. I can bring it out for you then if you need a reminder."

“No need,” Loid said. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sensation.”

Anya sighed, relieved.

With all the most important information out of the way, Loid and Gazyl switched to talking about how tips on navigating the wilderness, identifying the local plant life for useful herbs, and the less dangerous monster threats they were more likely to encounter than the territorial predators.

They eventually reached a bank far from any hints of civilization, deep into the wilderness of Reinesburg where even their most veteran hunters wouldn't stray normally. Gazyl and Loid dragged his boat to shore before tying it to a tree in case it suddenly rained and flooded while they were searching.

And when that was done, Loid picked up Anya and she nervously clambered onto his shoulders.

“She never been this deep into any wilds before?" Gazyl asked after he noticed.

“No, she’s only 4, after all,” Loid said. “Lead the way, Gazyl.”

“Alright, I suppose I should be happy, she can’t wander off like this,” Gazyl said, shrugging before he turned around and started walking on a path made of mud and trodden grass, waving for them to follow along.

Loid did, his face and body language betraying nothing as he realized someone was watching them from deep in the brush somewhere.

He decided not to glance and make it too obvious. At least, until he was sure that he had a sure plan to kill both them and Gazyl, if needed, all while keeping Anya safe.

Chapter Text

They made it to Gazyl’s camp in no time. The path was barely used and overgrown to non-existent but not nearly as perilous as Loid feared it was.

They constantly ran into monsters and animals, but they were still peaceful species or smaller predators that were easily scared off or shot to death with Loid’s pistol or the large collection of enchanted throwing knives that Gazyl kept discreetly strapped to his body and underneath his cloak.

The latter was, unsurprisingly, also magical weapons like Loid's.

They were mostly flat with sharpened edges and points, with small magic gems embedded on their bases to serve as a “battery” for Gazyl’s power, judging by how they only began glowing when he held them for a split-second before throwing or gauging a throw.

Instead of a solid mass of metal, there were small slits punched into each knife, presumably to let air pass through and Gazyl manipulate them more easily during their flight. He could either modify a knife’s trajectory mid-flight to hit monsters behind cover or try to dodge or catch a target off-guard when a straight shot turned into a drastic curve and stabbed them from behind.

And Gazyl didn’t even need to stop to pull them out again, they could fly back to his hands, be cleaned of blood and viscera, and then quickly stuffed back into his coat almost as quickly as he could throw them.

It made for a brisk pace hiking through unfamiliar woods, the only time they did slow down was to collect smaller corpses, butcher meat or useful parts from others, or gather edible plants and fungi.

“Is that going to be part of your lunch later?” Loid asked as Gazyl cracked open a dead giant insect’s hard shell.

“Mm, plus dinner, and hopefully tomorrow for breakfast, too,” Gazyl said as he scooped up the soft insides and into one of his bags. "Why? You one of those people grossed out by eating monster meat if it's not the usual suspects on fancy restaurant tables?"

“No,” Loid said, shaking his head. “Actually, I’m interested in learning how you find, prepare, and cook wild monster meat from in and around Reinesburg.”

“Huh,” Gazyl said as he sealed the bag and put the rest of the carcass into the bushes. "Thought you'd be the type to be sticking to Mrs. Polly's cooking since you're living with her and all."

“I learned the value of never shunning any source of food when I was young,” Loid said. “I’m thankful now that Reinesburg seems to offer plenty of options before we’re stuck with desperation.”

“Yeah,” Gazyl said grimly. “Not good eating, that.”

“Does Anya have to eat what Gazyl makes?” Anya asked from Loid’s shoulders. “Lotsa things seem really slimy and icky. Anya doesn’t like.”

“I’ll make sure to make or pack you something I know you’ll find tasty the next time we’re outside town, Anya,” Loid said.

“Yay,” Anya cheered quietly.

“You spoil her,” Gazyl said as he secured the bag.

“I like to think I’m compensating for a serious deficit in love and affection,” Loid said.

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Gazyl said, smirking before he turned around. “Now come on, we’re almost at the camp I mentioned.”

“Keep leading the way,” Loid said.

Maybe once they arrived at camp, the mysterious presence would finally show themself. Loid had felt them watching and following the three of them since they left the boat. Were he any less highly trained and experienced he’d likely have not even noticed them until they chose to reveal themselves, it was like they were almost completely erasing their presence or masking it with the sounds of the many animals and monsters surrounding them.

A clear sign of another highly-trained and experienced tracker, if there ever was one. And hopefully, not a malicious one.

“We’re here,” Gazyl said, stopping at a clearing.

It looked to just be wilderness, full of fallen leaves and rotting detritus until Gazyl waved his hands, summon a gust, and blew it all away. When everything settled, there was a dead campfire, a bedroll that looked made of natural fibers and for blending almost perfectly in the nature, and finally, a stash of supplies in a sack that had been tied high up in the branches of a tall tree that Gazyl had marked, far out of reach of all but the most determined and skilled scavengers.

“Alright,” Gazyl said as he put down most of his recent haul, “now that we’ve got time to rest, and all of the wards I made seem to still be holding and keeping the nasties out: any questions, Forger?”

Loid deliberately sat with his back to the tree and Anya in his lap, opposite the bushes where he could still feel the mysterious presence waiting and watching them. When he was certain Anya was comfortable and could be protected at a moment’s notice, Loid looked at Gazyl, smiled, and asked:

“Who’s your companion in the bushes, Gazyl? The one who’s been following us secretly?”

Gazyl stopped in the middle of pulling out some insect horns. Then, he sighed, clucked his tongue, and mumbled, “Cripes, what is up with my sneakiness today? First, the kid finds me out in town almost immediately, and now I can’t even cover for a sister out in the wilds.”

“It’s alright, Gazyl,” a quiet, female voice said. “They’ve already known where I was since you got off the boat. I could feel they both sensed me, even if they couldn’t see me.”

“Show yourself, then,” Loid said, slowly moving his hand over Anya while his other was ready to grab his spellslinger and fire from the hip if he needed to. "I don't want to hurt you but I won't tolerate any unknown threats towards myself or especially my daughter.”

“I don’t want to hurt you if I have to, either,” the woman replied quietly. “I’m coming out. I’ll be unarmed.”

“Papa…?” Anya asked, looking up at him.

“Be quiet, Anya,” Loid whispered as he kept his eyes on the bushes. “Let Papa handle this.”

There was a loud, intentional rustling in the bushes, then slowly, deliberately, and carefully, a woman stepped out.

Her eyes were red, the color of blood, but Loid could not see any menace in them, just shame, embarrassment, and regret.

She was another warbeast just like Gazyl, appearing mostly human except for the animal ears and the fur-covered, animal-like limbs ending in non-human hands and feet. She had black bunny ears instead of gray cat ears, however.

Most of her hair was also black and tied up behind her head, secured with a headband that looked to have deep-red crimson roses that looked alive and freshly plucked, with two black locks framing the sides of her head.

Her body was of an athlete, extremely well-developed and muscular. She wore a skimpy cloth dress that seemed more for show than daily wear or especially combat. It wrapped tight around her body wherever covered her, but still left so much of her exposed like her ample cleavage and especially her arms and her long, powerful legs.

She stood on her toes but seemed to have some form of spikes strapped to the back of her feet, it made it look likes he was standing on some very deadly high heels.

“My name is Yor Briar,” she said quietly. “I was the one who made the Numbing Death vials. I’m so sorry you got shot with it and almost died, that was because of my negligence, I regret that I or Gazyl couldn’t find and catch up with those bandits before they found you and your daughter.

"But before you do anything to me: know that there is a third dose of Numbing Death, it's still active, and if someone else manages to find it and retrieve it, they can still use it or extract the poison for use elsewhere."

Loid grimaced. “And where is it, exactly?”

Yor blushed and hung her head, even more embarrassed. “… It’s one of my poison-injector knives, currently stuck on a monster, Ullgar the Undying steelhide bear.”

Loid sighed. A name like that only spelled trouble.

“How are we going to get that dose of Numbing Death back or at least destroy it, so it doesn’t prove a threat to anyone else?” Loid asked.

“Simple!” Gazyl interrupted, pulling out the vial of numbing death in his cloak. “We kill Ullgar with that and dose #2 here!” he said, smiling.

Loid had half-a-mind to hurl a flashpowder grenade at them both, blind and disorient them, then restrain them and return to Reinesburg on Gazyl’s boat. It’s not as if he hadn’t already memorized the path back on the off-chance that he’d need to get back without Gazyl.

And more importantly, this had gone way beyond the scope that Aleina had armed and prepared him for, with his guide being secretly in league with their suspect and now a dangerous monster was involved, too.

It reminded him far too much of far too many missions back with WISE.

And here, he literally was volunteering, Ibroix seemed completely honest when he had given Loid the option of backing out and probably wouldn’t hold it against him if he withdrew his consent, now that the situation had become so much more complicated.

And even if Loid didn’t capture them both and successfully take them back to town, Aleina would probably thank Loid just for the info that Gazyl could not be trusted and that they had the face and a full-body description of their perpetrator.

If there wasn’t already a magical spell someone in town could use, Loid could very easily make a wanted poster if someone handed him a pencil and some time. Then, someone else could go hunt this “Yor Briar” down while Loid permanently swore himself off any other secret investigations, and become a full-time all-around helper at the Paladia’s restaurant while raising Anya.

After Loid would start insisting on paying for room and board and investing in Anya's future, he'd spend their extra money on peanuts and honeyberry tea from the general store. Loid would hang out with the other parents of young children in town, he’d babysit sometimes, and join Vahlen in baking cookies and other snacks for the residents.

Anya would have the happy childhood Loid she was denied and Loid would enjoy the fatherhood he never thought he would have.

They would have a happy, safe, and peaceful family life.

“Listen, Forger,” Gazyl said, breaking Loid out of his pleasant, far-off fantasy. “I know this is crazy and your face tells me you lost all trust in me, but still, you owe me your life and Anya’s, too.

“I may have saved you because I didn't want the local monsters building up more of a taste for humanoid flesh. But, I still dragged your unconscious ass back to the road and kept your daughter safe while she was screaming and crying, and the town guard was still getting the rescue organized.

“Bandits and monsters love that noise, you know? It’s an easy payday or a dinner bell for them. You both could have died there or worse if I wasn’t around. You owe me, big time, I’m claiming that favor now, and I’d appreciate it if you don’t skip out on me.”

Loid did not reply.

“You owe the Paladias too, don’t you?” Gazyl continued. “You must have realized how deep they are in debt and how badly they need more money and help. Jack and Mrs. Polly could keep the restaurant going so long as they're both alive if it weren't for that greedy jerk Colwyn deciding he'd get more money booting them out of town, once their last extension is up.

“He wants his money and it doesn't matter to him how much worse off the town is will be without Mrs. Polly. He doesn't even care to live in his township, for Pete's sake.

"The Old Man Ibroix, the Captain, and everyone else has been trying to help the Paladias since her husband Jojo died and everything started falling to pieces for them. But you and I both know they can't protect them from Colwyn forever.

“And Ullgar, you should know, is worth a lot of bounty money: 7,842,675 Fiorans.

"I've had that number stuck in my head for almost a year now, because for 3 months straight, I've personally led hordes of folks to their deaths trying to kill that bastard that just will not die and stay dead.

“You’ve seen how it is in town, we’d never get that many hunters in Reinesburg unless something is threatening Port Illyria from there or someone’s offering a life-changing amount of bounty money.

“It’s the kind of money you’d risk your life for, even if it means leaving so many new widows and orphans if you fail, which all those unfortunate souls did until better offers came along, and Lord Colwyn decided to give up.

“I haven’t checked how bad Paladias’ debt has gotten since the last time I asked, but with that kind of money, Forger? You could go a long, long way to helping the Paladias get out of debt, and a lot of people very happy you’ve come to Reinesburg, once they learn you helped kill Ullgar for good.

“It wasn’t just fortune-seeking hunters from elsewhere that he killed, after all.

“I don’t care about the money, Forger. I just want Ullgar dead for good this time. And if that means I can help a fellow clanless sister without any blood-kin to her name, then all the better.”

“And what of you, Ms. Briar?” Loid interrupted as he looked at her.

“Me?” Yor asked, pointing at herself. “I just want Ullgar dead, too. I’ve been trying to live peacefully here in the wilds but he keeps bothering me. I can’t even go to town as much as I want to, because I’m afraid that he’s going to follow me that far and start hurting innocent people instead of someone that can fight him off and run away, as I've been doing for the past few weeks."

“I thought he was a steelhide bear and that means they’re purely territorial, Gazyl,” Loid said as he turned back to him.

“Not Ullgar, specifically. Something’s wrong with his brain,” Gazyl said. “Maybe it’s a side-effect of whatever is still keeping him alive and bringing him back from the dead, maybe it’s from all the times people have tried to smash open his skull and hope that will finally put him down for good.

“But, either way, he doesn’t act like a normal monster bear, he just shambles around looking for things to eat and kill, he doesn’t even sleep. I’ve followed him for days straight and none of the other trackers ever saw it, either. Even the other monsters and animals stay as far as they can away from him and normally, lesser monsters like to be around the Named for protection and to eat up their scraps.”

“And this is why Ms. Briar created the three batches of Numbing Death?” Loid asked.

“Four,” Yor said. “There were four.

"One to see if it would work on him, which it did very well, but it just wasn't enough to kill him permanently. I had a second dose already ready just in case but that's when a group of bandits ambushed me while Ullgar was coming back to life, they managed to steal it from me while I was distracted fighting him off."

She hung her head and said, “Again, I’m so sorry, Mr. Forger. I tracked down and murdered all the bandits I remembered then. But, I couldn’t find it with them so they must have sold it to that other group, the ones that were trying to kidnap your daughter.

“I swear!” she shouted as she looked up at Loid with teary eyes. “I will let you do whatever you want with me, so long as you help me kill Ullgar once and for all! You can kill me, you can enslave me and force me to pay off my crimes for the rest of my life, you can banish me from this country and sent me somewhere else far, far away, where I’ll never bother you or anyone else again for as long as I live…!”

She closed her eyes, unable to stop the tears now. “I just don’t want anyone innocent dying or getting hurt again because of me—not while I can still do something about it…!”

Loid said nothing, quietly taking in the situation.

Gazyl had already proven his untrustworthy nature by lying and trying to cover for Yor. He also wasn’t formally a citizen of Reinesburg and not under their jurisdiction. He could probably not be sued or charged for withholding evidence and potentially endangering Loid and Anya both by having acted in such bad faith. The only consequence for this was probably him being blacklisted from ever working with Reinesburg ever again.

Even that was not sure, because Reinesburg could be short-staffed and unable to replace Gazyl for necessity and the cost of hiring a similarly-skilled replacement, as WISE often suffered.

And then there was Yor. She was the creator of a highly lethal poison, and by Nihls’s account, she had to have been intensely intimate with death and poisons to even produce Numbing Death.

What if this was all some elaborate ploy to trap Loid into helping them murder Ullgar, then they would kill him and possibly Anya as well, leaving Gazyl to try and collect the bounty while making up the believable excuse that they had been killed in the fight, their corpses were abandoned in their flight and eaten by other monsters by the time they could look for them?

By Gazyl’s account, Ullgar had a long list of bodies to his name. What were two more, especially two freshly arrived foreigners who couldn’t have possibly been familiar with the danger, one of them a young, helpless child?

There were too many unknowns and risks, despite the arguments Gazyl was putting up—assuming he was acting in good faith now that the jig was up.

And it wasn’t just Loid security he was risking, it was all of Reinesburg’s and Anya’s, too.

Loid shouldn’t take the risk.

He wouldn’t take the risk.

He couldn’t take the risk.

Not with the Paladias and Anya hanging in the balance.

“Papa,” Anya said.

Loid snapped out of his head and looked down at Anya while keeping Gazyl and Yor in his peripheral vision. “Yes, Anya?” he asked.

“Gazyl and Ms. Yor are telling the truth,” Anya said. “Anya believes them. Anya wants Papa to believe Gazyl and Ms. Yor, too.”

Ignoring Anya’s mysterious, inexplicable, probably supernatural—or rather, magical—ability to read people, their emotions, and their motivations.

She was just a kid. Barely 4 years old. Clearly ignorant of the world and without a responsible adult to guide and protect her against its evils, one that clearly also loved preying on the innocent, ignorant, and incapable of defending themselves.

It was completely, absolutely illogical, and utterly insane of Loid to trust Anya's judgment on this.

It went completely against all the survival skills he’d been forced to acquire growing up as a young orphan of war in Westalia, as an underage recruit for its army who became a ruthless killing machine for so many years, and then finally, as a spy for WISE.

Loid sighed and made his decision:

“So long as you have a concrete plan to kill this Ullgar, I'll do it. But Anya had better be safe the entire time because I am abandoning this operation as soon as it seems like even a hair on her head will be hurt."

Gazyl laughed in nervous relief. “I knew I wanted to try and trust you for a reason, Forger!”

“Thank you as well, Mr. Forger,” Yor said, smiling. “I promise I’ll do my best to help keep her safe as we take down Ullgar.”

Loid was about to speak until he felt two tiny arms grip him around the chest, a warm face bury herself into his jacket. He decided to shut his mouth and pat Anya on the back as he scrapped his original plans and contingencies, then began to think of how he was going to keep his daughter safe from another possible betrayal.

This was insane.

This went against all Loid had ever been taught and lived by when he was Twilight.

But even all that had not been able to save him from the destruction of Berlint and the eruption of another war between Ostania and Westalis.

Now, he was in an entirely different world, of magic, of monsters, of so many non-human sentient species living together as one mishmash of a civilized society.

And more importantly, he had a daughter to keep safe and make happy, even if it meant he needed to put his life and limb on the line once more.

What was insane in his past life might just have been common sense and reasonable here.

Chapter Text

To Loid’s increasingly smaller surprise, the first preparation for hunting an “Undying” monster with two magic users in the party, was another big meal. It was led by Gazyl, assisted by Loid, and with Yor just handing them ingredients from the bag at Gazyl’s orders or tending to the fire.

“Is this all the help she’ll be doing?” Loid asked as he glanced at Yor stoking the flames with a stick.

“Don’t let her try to cook anything, Forger, unless you want us to be sick, dying, and easy prey for any predator that doesn’t mind finishing off ill prey,” Gazyl replied as he deftly sliced up hunks of butchered meat into more manageable pieces.

“… Any particular reason why?” Loid asked, looking back at Gazyl.

“She can’t cook,” Gazyl said. “At least, she can’t cook without somehow making it incredibly deadly to anyone but her.”

“I managed to eat my cooking just fine as did my little brother!" Yor piped up, smiling. Then, she looked down and said, "Though I suppose he's dead now and both of you aren't like him, so what I said probably doesn't matter..."

Loid felt concerned about that but decided to ignore it for now.

The stew was soon on the fire, but it was far from the mundane, familiar cooking that Loid had learned in his previous life and that Mrs. Polly served in her restaurant. It was mostly made of monster meat, magically-charged plants and fungi, and even a handful of non-edible body parts like whole hooves and horns put in and intended to be removed after they had sucked all the desired components and effects from them, like a gruesome form of cinnamon sticks or bay leaves.

Unlike the butchering and processing of monster and animal corpses back in town, Anya wasn’t as fascinated by this process. Instead, she looked on in a mixture of confusion and morbid curiosity.

The stew started boiling, it was now emitting a suspect aura that Loid figured wasn’t just in his imagination.

“Anya doesn’t want to eat any...” Anya muttered, shaking her head and clutching Chimera.

“You’re good, kid, because you’re not going to be part of this fight,” Gazyl said as he stirred it vigorously. “Everyone else, Forger especially: eat up and make sure you can feel that the effects are working. We need all the advantages we can get if we’re going to stand a chance against Ullgar.”

“What kind of effects am I supposed to be watching for, exactly?” Loid asked.

“You’ll know it when you feel it,” Gazyl said. “We’re not exactly going off the Monster Hunter’s Guide To Wild Monster Meals, just what Yor and I have figured will probably work best.”

“That does not give me confidence,” Loid said, frowning.

“Come on, Forger, trust me,” Gazyl said as he looked up from the pot. “You trusted us so far, you can try to trust us till the end.”

“Please, Mr. Forger,” Yor said, pressing her hands together. “We can’t do this alone. We know, we’ve tried several times and failed miserably. So far I’ve managed to fend Ullgar off and keep him away from any settlements, but I don’t think I can keep escaping him forever.”

“Please, Papa?” Anya said, looking up at him with expectant eyes.

Loid sighed.

This little girl and the rest of this world were going to be the second death of him, he was certain of it.

But unlike Ibroix, Loid was certain it was going to be any time soon.

The stew was finished, Gazyl and Loid both fished out every last inedible piece, especially since there was a very real risk of stabbing themselves, being poisoned, or shattering their teeth if they weren’t careful. Even then, the resulting meal was of questionable quality, Loid found himself shoveling it down at Gazyl and Yor’s insistence. At least it wasn’t so vile he struggled to swallow it or risked vomiting it back up.

Then, midway through Loid's first bowl, he felt it: an alien form of magic coursing through his veins, not hostile and malicious like Anya's massive shock, but empowering and harmonic like it was trying to match the thrum and flow of Loid's magic and it was doing the same in turn.

He felt stronger, both physically and—he was going to have to get used to this—magically, like his power was beginning to overflow from him, albeit not as dramatically as yesterday.

His senses felt sharper, everything was clearer to his eyes, he was listening to things from further away, picking out subtleties in the scents of the forest and the others he could not before.

He felt like he was tapping a power beyond what he could have achieved alone, if only temporarily.

Despite the taste of the meal, Loid felt good about eating it.

And then Loid realized he had suddenly become able to sense the other’s heartbeats and the blood coursing through their bodies.

He thought he was hallucinating the pulsing lines on Yor and Gazyl’s bodies, at first. But now, as he focused on them both in turn, their features, clothes, and some of their surroundings began to disappear from his vision. Instead, they were replaced by faint silhouettes, magical energy in the colors of their eyes coursing through their bodies, centered around glowing, pulsing orbs around their chests—their hearts.

“Mr. Forger?” Yor asked. “Is something the matter?”

“I can see your heartbeats and the blood coursing through your bodies,” Loid said bluntly.

“Oh, good, I’d hate it if you didn’t get Predator Sight like the both of us,” Gazyl said. “Make good use of this while the effect lasts, Forger. It’s how we’re going to try to detect Ullgar through the foliage and more importantly, how we’re going to tell if he’s actually dead or he’s coming back soon.”

“I have to ask, does he really revive with each death or is he just astoundingly difficult to kill?” Loid asked.

“He comes back to life, I've seen it happen several times, Mr. Forger," Yor said, her heart rate visibly rising. "I was certain my poisons had stopped its heart and the injuries I'd inflicted on him would cause some form of severe internal bleeding… but then, something restarts his heart, his wounds heal, and suddenly he's getting back up again."

“I’ve seen it many more times and one was already way too many, believe me,” Gazyl said, shuddering. “Doesn’t matter how we ended him: drowned him in a whirlpool during a raging storm, threw him off a ravine and into the rocks and the rapids below, or just set him on fire and kept him burning until he stopped moving.

“Somehow, something keeps bringing Ullgar back to life and there’s none of us who’ve been able to figure out why or how to stop it,” he continued. “It’s even worse because this isn’t just a clear-cut case of standard necromancy, otherwise we could have just hired an Illuminian monk or cleric, had them cast Turn Undead, and be done with Ullgar months ago.”

“And yet you still believe that somehow we’ll be able to stop him now, with your two doses of Numbing Death?” Loid asked.

“The first test dose kept him down longer than usual before Ullgar came back to life, Forger,” Gazyl said. “That’s never happened before in all the hunts I’ve been on, so it gives me hope.”

“And should this plan of yours still fail and Ullgar really is unkillable?” Loid said.

“Then we fall back on the backup plan: we run the heck away and hope he doesn't follow us back to town. So far, it's never happened nor has he gotten close, so you know."

“’So far,’” Loid repeated.

“I've got a plan if he tries, don't look at me like that!" Gazyl snapped. "Now get back to eating your meal, it'll be less long-lasting and taste even worse cold."

“Alright,” Loid said as he returned to his bowl.

As he did, however, he couldn’t help but notice Anya’s heartbeat and her power coursing through her body, too. Her silhouette was, obviously, much smaller and the glow of her power much less intense and bright with his augmented vision…

But, he couldn't help but notice, that something seemed off with her heart.

It was supposed to be the same green as her eyes, but he couldn’t help but notice that there was a tinge somewhere, a small dark purple streak…? It never stayed in one place long enough for him to be certain he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Hey! Forger! Food, mouth?” Gazyl said. “Or are you backing out now…?”

Loid decided to have it checked at a later date. There would definitely be a hospital in Port Illyria, healthcare for magia-specific issues would be inevitable for this society, and he remembered Jack mentioning a temple in town, maybe one that was full of magical healers.

“Is something wrong, Anya?” Yor asked.

“Huh?” Anya said. “No, nothing, Ms. Yor! Anya’s fine!”

Loid stopped that train of thought at a station and willed his vision to normalize. Soon, he saw Yor looking at Anya with a face of concern and Anya visibly nervous and clutching Chimera to her chest tightly.

“Sorry to say, folks, but talk about it later,” Gazyl said. “The effects aren’t going to last forever, we’ve got an hour, hour and a half at most. I don’t plan us to fight Ullgar long but we have to find him first.”

“Okay, sorry, Gazyl,” Yor said.

“Mm,” Loid grunted.

They finished their stew, the leftovers were rapidly cooled, then sealed with a heavy lid and magically magnetized by charging it with Gazyl's magic. Then, with Gazyl handing out additional supplies to everyone, they set out to start tracking Ullgar the Undying.

Loid’s sharpened senses and the magical effects from the food made the wilds seem like an entirely different place. He could sense new and old tracks in the foliage and the muck, smell the scents of various monsters and animals and how recently they had been in an area, and he was also moving with greater ease and speed than before, despite having never been here.

Still, he didn’t hold a candle to either Yor or Gazyl. They blazed through the untrodden paths like they were doing their nth run through an obstacle course.

The only reason they would slow down would be to investigate a promising hint of recent steelbear activity, or to check that Anya was still on Loid’s shoulders and not dizzy from the speed.

Loid made a note to investigate more about warbeast biology later. Was this specific to the two of them, as professional trackers and hunters, or were all the members of their species this adept at moving through the wilderness?

There was so much more he needed to learn about this world and its peoples, for the sake of protecting himself, and more importantly, protecting Anya. This world had given him powerful tools in the form of magic but as a former spy, information was infinitely more valuable than any weapon.

Then, Anya started frantically patting Loid’s head. “Papa, Papa…!” she whimpered.

“Everyone, wait,” Loid called out.

“What is it?” Gazyl asked as he and Yor turned around. “If she needs to pee, let her do it now while we’re still looking for Ullgar.”

“Mr. Ullgar is near,” Anya said.

“Huh?” Gazyl asked, confused, “how do you know…?”

“Anya feels something wrong,” Anya whimpered, trembling now. “Really, really wrong and scary.”

Loid reached up to touch her and try to comfort her.

Gazyl just sighed, unamused. “Kid--”

Then, his ears perked and turned to the side, Yor’s did the same as her eyes sharpened and she whispered:

“Gazyl. She’s right.”

“Everyone, get close, get down, and be quiet!” Gazyl hissed.

They all regrouped and crouched near Gazyl.

Loid pulled Anya off his shoulders to hug her instead, she hugged him back.

Gazyl opened his coat and tried to cover as much of them as he could, the leaves and foliage beneath their feet starting to rustle and fly up on magical gusts.

In moments, they were surrounded by a small sphere of wind and electricity, faintly tinted the color of Gazyl’s eyes. Real leaves, sticks, and pieces of decaying wood floated suspended around it, the rest seemed to be semi-transparent illusions, at least from the extreme close distance Loid was looking at them.

Anya was shaking violently now and began to cry into Loid’s chest. Loid cradled her head and shushed her, trying to both comfort her and muffle her voice.

Gazyl and Yor kept scanning their surroundings, ears and eyes both turning and twisting in every direction.

And then, a few minutes later, Loid saw his first glimpse of Ullgar the Undying.

He was a gigantic bear, about the size of a cargo van. His dull-gray/silver fur was a mix of shiny, metallic-looking strands of densely packed hairs and bald patches covered in rough, ugly, very old scar tissue. Decaying and broken weapons were still stuck to him, axes, arrows, spears, swords, and knives, the metal components rusting and their organic components beginning to rot and grow fungus and plants.

There was also a very new and recent addition, easily noticed by its still being shiny and clean: a needle-point knife stuck in Ullgar’s neck, a slot in its side letting Loid know the inside was hollow and loaded with a vial of Numbing Death.

Ullgar moved like a shambling, decaying, constantly suffering corpse given a perverse, nightmarish corruption of “life” by some sadistic higher power. Loid wondered what exactly was so dangerous about him, how Ullgar had managed to take so many lives moving so poorly and always seemingly on the verge of death but denied it.

Then, as another steelhide bear wandered in to investigate the intruder in its territory, Loid got a very graphic, brutal answer.

The other bear noticed Ullgar, panicked, and tried to turn around and flee.

But, it was too late: like a switch had been activated, Ullgar suddenly moved with outstanding, lethal speed, power, and coordination.

Ullgar crashed into the other steelhide bear, sending it flying off all four of its legs and crashing into a nearby tree.

Crack!

The sturdy, old, deeply-rooted trunk shattered and groaned, tipping violently to one side from the impact. Stunned and surprised, the other steelhide bear tried to regain its footing, blindly clawing and swiping at its attacker with its knife-like claws.

It was all for nothing.

Ullgar charged despite the attacks. The other bear’s claws scratched and tore through his scarred hide, Ullgar completely the thick, dark red blood spilling out of him like it was already half-congealed. And when Ullgar's body glowed with magic and his hide and fur became shiny and hard like a layer of living, flexible metal, the claws stopped doing anything but bounce off harmlessly.

The normal steelhide bear cried out—and then was silenced as Ullgar lunged for its neck.

Everyone winced and recoiled, Anya whimpered as her face was buried in Loid’s chest.

The other steelhide bear was dead, its throat ripped out and much of its neck missing, as well. As Ullgar began to ravenously devour it, Loid decided to try and harness his Predator Sight again.

Ullgar and the carcass were both rife with magic, though the latter’s heart had stopped beating, the lines were rapidly fading. The ugly sounds said Ullgar was tearing into his victim’s rib cage, tearing through muscle, bone, and internal organs until Ullgar finally found his most desired prizes:

The dead steelhide bear’s heart and stomach, where most of its mana circulated or had come from.

Ullgar’s glowing heart started beating abnormally fast and painfully bright to Loid's eyes. He roared, not in the victory or joy of a successful kill but that of agony and suffering.

Loid turned his vision back to normal and watched with morbid interest and horror as what few wounds Ullgar had received rapidly healed, older scars seemed to disappear and forcibly regrow fur. Loid would bet anything that his insides were regenerating, too.

And then, after a short pause, Ullgar started moving again, as pained and shambolic as before.

"Please don't come here… please don't come here..." Gazyl whispered.

The three adults tensed up, Anya seemed to have frozen in fear.

And then, after a few anxiety-inducing minutes, Ullgar disappeared into the bushes, leaving the dead carcass and a fresh trail of blood and uneaten hunks of meat and viscera in his wake.

“Now you see why decided to make Numbing Death to try and kill him?” Gazyl said as he undid the camouflage and pulled his cloak back to himself.

“Yes,” Loid said grimly. “I can’t imagine the kind of damage that thing could do if it ever got close to any settlement.”

“It’s a big reason why any plans for Reinesburg to expand or start permanent satellite camps for potential future towns have stalled this past year,” Gazyl said. “Not that Ullgar is the one threat but he is at the top of the list, so far.

“Now come on,” Gazyl said as he stood up. “Let’s start setting up an arena to fight him, keep him in and unwanted guests out. We’ve gotta move fast, we need all the advantages we can get now that he’s recently eaten.

“We’ll find a safe spot for the kid first, of course,” Gazyl as he pulled out two items. “High up in a tree should be good, this a windleaf parachute will keep her safe if she falls, plus an emergency flare in case worst comes to worst.”

“Papa and Gazyl and Ms. Yor could die?!” Anya said, panicked.

“We’ll try our best to at least get out of this alive, Anya,” Loid said. “On the chance that even two doses of Numbing Death aren’t enough to put Ullgar down for good.”

“Don’t worry, though, kid, this isn’t an all-or-nothing operation,” Gazyl said. “I’ve got escape plans for all of us. If we don’t leave with Ullgar dead, at least we won’t be added to his victim list.”

Anya whimpered, uneasy.

“Umm, Gazyl, does that include me being able to finally get to town?” Yor asked. “I really would like to formally apologize for Mr. Forger having been shot by Numbing Death and make it up to him. And I’m sure there has to be some kind of criminal charges for me, too.”

Gazyl sighed. “When we’re sure Ullgar’s off all our tails, sister,” he said. “Hopefully with all of us still in one piece each. Now, let’s get to work.”

With Gazyl and Yor being much more familiar with the area and better able to move through the terrain, Loid stayed behind to watch for a potential return of Ullgar, make sure Anya’s parachute was securely strapped to her body, and comfort her, as well.

“I’m sorry, Anya, this all scared you, didn’t it?” Loid asked, frowning.

“Mhmm,” Anya mumbled. “Anya’s glad Papa is here with Anya, though.”

“Maybe I should have insisted you stayed behind in Reinesburg...” Loid mumbled. “I’m sure Mr. Vahlen and Na-bi or Captain Aleina would have been happy to look after you while I was gone.”

“Nuh-uh!” Anya said suddenly. “Then, Papa wouldn’t have helped Ms. Yor and Gazyl!”

“You really want to help these strangers so much, Anya?” Loid asked.

"Anya thinks that's what good girls do," Anya said. "Also, Anya doesn't want Mr. Ullgar to hurt anymore."

Loid blinked. “Pardon?”

“Mr. Ullgar hurts all the time, Papa. Mr. Ullgar wants to die, too,” Anya said. “But the Bad Thing inside Mr. Ullgar won’t let Mr. Ullgar die.”

“Bad Thing…?” Loid repeated. “Anya, can you guess what this Bad Thing is or just where it is?”

“Anya’s not sure,” Anya said as she looked down, ashamed. “But… Anya feels Mr. Ullgar’s Bad Thing is like what the Really Bad People did to Anya.”

Loid nodded. “Thank you, Anya, that’s very helpful.”

“Papa thinks Anya helped?” Anya asked, confused.

“Yes, Anya,” Loid said, smiling as he patted her on the head. “Now, leave Mr. Ullgar to Papa, Ms. Yor, and Gazyl. Papa promises that soon, Mr. Ullgar won’t hurt anymore and we’ll all be alive, too.”

“Papa’s a liar,” Anya said quietly. “Papa doesn’t know if Papa can do both.”

Then, she hugged Loid around his shoulders and squeezed with all the might her tiny little arms could manage. “But Papa’s a cool liar and Anya wants to believe Papa can, anyway.”

Loid paused, his eyes widening, then moistening with tears. He smiled as he hugged Anya back and said, “Papa wants to believe, too, Anya."

Chapter Text

Yor and Gazyl soon returned from their scouting and found the best area they could fight Ullgar in on such short notice: a patch of hard, rocky, and mostly flat and dry ground with a stream running nearby.

They could fight without the worry of slipping and losing their balance, soft ground giving way beneath their feet (especially with how much Ullgar alone weighed), and Loid could also just draw on the water for additional firepower and spell options he couldn't have relying on just his reserves.

They discussed the plan again, plus Anya’s theory about the “Bad Thing” that was keeping Ullgar alive for almost a year now.

Gazyl was skeptical—it was far from the first time he’d ever fought Ullgar with magic-users who had some form of extrasensory perception—but he decided to go with it.

"Eh, maybe that's the super-secret weakness none of us have ever sensed or were strong enough to exploit. I never had the idea or the expertise to go after Ullgar with Numbing Death before Yor, after all,” Gazyl said. “Unless we can’t try to disable this 'Bad Thing' without getting killed, I don't see why we shouldn't give it a shot.”

“Thank Gazyl for believing Anya,” Anya said. “Anya will make sure to figure out where the Bad Thing is in Mr. Ullgar, now that Anya knows the Bad Thing is there.”

“We’re counting on you, Anya,” Loid said, patting her on the head.

Anya smiled before putting on a serious face—or rather, as serious as a naive 4-year-old could manage.

And so, with minor modifications, the plan was put into motion.

Gazyl sacrificed some of his knives to form a magical electric fence, planting them along the ground or on trees. Then, after the wire was pulled up, anything that had not been cleared as “friendly” was going to get shocked stupid. Or in Ullgar’s case, they hoped it would stun him long enough for them to begin their escape with Anya and get a sizable head start to try and lose him.

Yor and Loid also sprinkled some Monster Warding Powder from bags, it was a black-blue substance that Loid could see an ominous vapor rising off of. It just made him wary but Anya didn’t want to even be near the stuff, as would any weaker monsters that happened to wander in to investigate the inevitable signs of fighting.

And finally, Loid put Anya up in a tree, just outside the arena and along their escape route where any three of them could easily climb up to retrieve her as they fled.

“Stay here with Mr. Chimera, alright?” Loid said, putting a hand on Anya’s head again.

“Mhmm!” Anya said nervously. Then, she patted Chimera’s head as he was strapped to her chest via her parachute harness. “Mr. Chimera says good luck, Papa! And to tell Gazyl and Ms. Yor that, too!”

“I will. Thank you, Anya,” Loid said before he began to climb back down the tree.

Loid’s feet hit the ground again, Gazyl and Yor were waiting for him.

“I hope you’re not thinking of backing out now or getting cold feet, Forger,” Gazyl said. “I’d hate to have wasted all this time and all that food for nothing.”

“I’m not,” Loid said, shaking his head. “I’m ready to go if Ms. Briar is. Also, Mr. Chimera says ‘Good luck.’ to both of you.”

“Oh, is that her doll's name?" Yor asked. "Tell him and Anya I said, 'Thank you.'"

“Yeah, same," Gazyl said. "So, is there anything you want to say to Yor over here before she heads off to be our bait? I can tell you've got reservations about the plan and her, Forger, especially since it was her poison that almost ended up killing you yesterday.

“I don’t want any silent grudges hanging over your heads when we'll have to rely on each other soon to win or just avoid biting it."

“Since we’re short on time and Anya seems to want to trust Ms. Briar: I think I’m just going to trust her as well and believe that she’s genuine about wanting to make recompense for her crimes,” Loid said. “We’ll talk at length later, Ms. Briar, once we’ve either put down Ullgar for good or have all fled him safely and are back in the safety of Reinesburg.”

Yor nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Forger. You’re a good man,” she said, smiling.

“I’m really not. Now, go,” Loid said.

Yor put on a serious face and did, disappearing into the woods.

“I’ll be in the water,” Loid told Gazyl as he walked past him.

Loid stepped into the stream, felt it rushing past his boots and soaking the bottoms of his pant legs. Probably because of Gazyl’s cooking, he was starting to quickly recognize the magical power in the water here at the Reines River, how it resonated with the power inside him, and most importantly, how to try and join their forces as one.

Loid pulled out both his spellslinger and sword and held them firmly as they began to charge up.

He breathed in and out and felt the stream's magic flow up from his feet and into his body, replacing the magic flowing into his weapons' magazines.

Then, slowly but surely, the water began to defy gravity around Loid once more, spiraling up his legs and waist at the pace as his breathing, gathering up in front of his chest, becoming a swirling ball of river water that was glowing and pulsing with the steady beat of his heart.

“Damn,” Gazyl whistled as he walked into view. “I knew you had to be some kind of special magia. But this makes me feel like we’ve got a guaranteed shot at winning this now.”

“I haven’t even given you any showing of what I can do in a fight,” Loid said calmly, still building up the mass of water in front of him.

“Still doesn't change that you've got the eyes and the spirit of a killer and a survivor, Forger," Gazyl said as he set up additional traps, short-lived but powerful ones. "6v1 unarmed and winning, almost blowing the engine out on my boat, plus who knows how other many other acts of badassery I haven't heard about still?

“You’ve been through hell and back and only come out stronger for it. Yor and I can both see that, and I’m pretty sure the Captain did, too, else she wouldn’t have trusted you out here all alone with your kid in tow.”

They paused as they could hear the sounds of distant charging and roaring, the ground rumbling, trees being violently uprooted or outright destroyed, and various creatures fleeing in a panic.

“Out of curiosity,” Loid said, the mass of water beginning to pulse faster as he braced for combat, “what is Captain Aleina going to say once we come back to town, and she learns that you were hiding a dangerous fugitive for weeks, and then recruited me and by extension, Anya, to hunt down a legendarily infamous monster with said fugitive?”

"Probably a lot of yelling, to begin with," Gazyl said as he configured the largest trap of all. It resembled, appropriately enough, a normal metal bear trap. “Lots of the old, ‘Gazyl, we trust you so you should at least trust us.’ speech, maybe a remix. Gonna lose a whole lot of money in fines and withheld pay. Probably gonna be a while before she trusts me with any job beyond the basic security and scouting work if she can help it."

Loid chuckled. “She sounds like a mother to you.”

Gazyl grimaced. “We both prefer ‘Big Sister.’ Besides, Mrs. Polly’s a bigger part of the circle of folks who love taking in strays, much like you two were and I still am.”

The sounds of violence were incredibly close now. They could catch glimpses of Yor, a black blur through the foliage. Then Ullgar charged through and destroyed everything that was in his path as he chased her.

“She’s a wonderful woman,” Loid said. “We’re both quite grateful to have met her.”

“Yeah, she’s a real saint,” Gazyl said, preparing to pull the electric fence wire up and taut. “Anyway, I can’t tell you how to spend your reward money, obviously, but I hope a good chunk of it’s going to Mrs. Polly.”

“It will,” Loid said, readying his spellslinger. “After I get a thorough accounting of everything and how much we might be better off reinvesting into the restaurant than directly paying off debt.”

Then, Yor burst through the nearby brush.

She deftly hopped over the electric fence and around all of Gazyl’s other traps, jumped and flipped herself 180, landed on her legs and a hand, and slid for a few seconds till she made a perfect stop on the “X” they had carved earlier.

Yor was breathing fast but not sweating or even out of breath. A dark shadow had fallen over her face as her red eyes gleamed ominously and an intense aura radiated from her, a phenomenon both Gazyl and Loid both were intimately familiar with:

Overflowing killing intent.

And then, another, much larger, and ferocious aura followed overwhelmed hers: Ullgar’s.

He appeared in the arena with a horrific, agonized roar, jaws bared, thick, rancid saliva, and old blood flying from his lips. Ullgar kept charging straight ahead after Yor, faster than his broken, battered, and scarred flesh and body should have been able to. He did not seem to notice Loid or Gazyl, care to notice anything else other than the fact that his latest prey had stopped moving, and that he was finally on the cusp of killing her and devouring her heart.

Ullgar’s single-minded focus gave the three hunters only a few scant seconds of opportunity.

But, in a fight with such experienced fighters, it was all the time they needed to start the battle in their favor.

Ullgar stepped on the bear trap and an intense blast of air exploded underneath him.

It wasn’t nearly strong to blow Ullgar backward or even completely stop him—but it was strong enough to slow him down enough for Loid to have a clear shot.

With his spellslinger feeding off of the water ball, he aimed at Ullgar's center of mass and held down the trigger.

A water laser beam fired, hitting Ullgar on one of his flanks, the splashes transforming into tendrils that rapidly surged all over Ullgar's and tightened like a net. Ullgar roared and struggled, magic coursing through his body to try and turn its exterior to steel once more—but then the water suddenly turned freezing, the chill bit into his muscles and began to slow and ice his blood.

And too distracted by that, Ullgar didn’t realize that Yor had run straight up to his neck, ripped out her knife, and slammed it back in, piercing the skin and injecting the poison this time.

Ullgar staggered, he twitched, he jerked. He tried to put weight on one foot before immediately losing strength and he crashed onto his side. His gigantic muscles began to work against him as they turned to dead weight, his bones and organs were being crushed beneath his weight. Ullgar wheezed and gurgled, choking on the spit and foam that was pouring from his mouth and flowing back into his throat, unable to expel it as his lungs were shutting down.

Loid activated his Predator Sight.

Ullgar’s heart was in a frenzy, beating insanely fast, his magic desperately trying to course throughout his system to try and break free off both Loid’s Aqua Net and resist the Numbing Death.

But, the poison acted too fast, it was too fresh and too lethal. Loid saw as several of the bright lines in Ullgar’s body went dark all at once, the frantic beating of his heart began to grow erratic, slowed, and started stopping entirely for seconds at a time before it restarted in desperate bursts of light.

Then, after about a minute of suffering, Ullgar’s heart finally stopped and he went still.

It was a terrible, agonizing, nightmarish way to die.

So, it was to Loid’s dismay, that the “Bad Thing” inside Ullgar refused to let that be what finally killed him.

Loid reactivated his Predator Sight. He watched as Ullgar’s heart suddenly, mysteriously restarted, before it exploded in a nearly blinding flash, sending out a giant wave of magic throughout his system.

Mana lines that should have been dead and gone were suddenly coming back to life or forcibly recreated with searing intensity. And then, Ullgar began to get back up again, jerking like a broken puppet with a sadistic master forcibly pulling its strings, his hide glowed and turned an intense silver-gray.

It was the end of so many hunting parties, Loid had learned from their briefing earlier: the second wind that brought Ullgar back and at full strength, nearly invulnerable to everything.

But, like that time Loid had drawn on that desperate strength to save Anya, it only lasted a few minutes.

In that time, most parties would have been dead or fled for safety and far from Ullgar’s senses, like Yor had been forced to do these past few weeks. This time, however, with Yor pulling out a second hollow knife loaded with their last dose of Numbing Death, they intended to stay and finish the job.

“TUMMY!” Anya screamed from her perch as she used her magic. “THE BAD THING IS IN MR. ULLGAR’S TUMMY!”

“You heard the kid!” Gazyl yelled. “Once he’s vulnerable, get him in the stomach!”

Ullgar roared with renewed strength, gobs of spit flying out of his throat, he got back up on his legs as if they hadn’t just been crushed and fractured underneath his dying body. And as Gazyl cast Bluff on himself and made him seem like the most powerful and magic-rich target in the area, Ullgar started chasing him first.

The fight turned from an ambush turned into a matter of just trying to survive.

Gazyl dodged, ducked, and disappeared as Ullgar tried to swipe and bite at him. What seemed like direct hits turned out to be decoys, disappearing into thin air or exploding into bright, blinding sparks. His knives floated around him and Ullgar, not slicing or stabbing into him as they’d just bounce off, but instead shocking him, blasting him with gusts of air, and making a distracting racket to lead him to his traps.

It was hard to tell if it was helping keep Ullgar's attention on Gazyl, but at least it made it easy for Loid and Yor both to track them and help him.

Ullgar swiped horizontally!

Gazyl ducked and rolled under it, and from the stream, Loid grabbed Ullgar’s paw with a water tendril.

Ullgar jerked and struggled to free himself, meanwhile Gazyl regained his footing and got some distance.

Splash!

The tendril ruptured, Ullgar charged at Gazyl!

Gazyl turned around and then stood still, tensed and ready.

Ullgar lunged, about to bite him in the neck!

Then, Yor kneed him in the side of the head. She could not pierce his impenetrable skin or shatter the bone underneath. But the sheer force in them could still send Ullgar staggering, long enough for them to reposition and continue this deadly game of keep-away.

And from up in her tree, Anya cheered, using all the air in her lungs and some of her magic so they could hear her.

It all seemed to be going perfectly for nearly a minute more—until Ullgar stopped, pulled back on his hind legs, and roared as he brought his titanic weight crashing down!

CRACK!

The earth shook and staggered them all before the ground beneath Gazyl’s feet crumbled. He screamed as he fell backward on the new slope in the ground and then rolled into the stream.

The splash and the current blinded him, Gazyl blinked the water out of his eyes in time to see Ullgar charging after him, jaws out.

“Flash out!” Loid screamed.

Gazyl threw his arm up and shielded his eyes.

Crack. Boom.

Even in this super-powered state, Ullgar’s eyes could not withstand a perfectly thrown flashpowder grenade exploding directly in his face.

Ullgar screamed and reeled, blindly swiping his paws as he staggered back. Yor swooped into the stream, scooping Gazyl into her arms before she kicked off again, and far away from Ullgar.

“Agh! I’m running dry! Yor, take his attention while I heal up and recharge!” Gazyl yelled. “Forger! Don’t let her die, you hear me?!”

“Will do!” “Understood!”

Yor put Gazyl down near the electric fence, he scurried underneath the wire while pulling out potions from his cloak and drinking them as quickly as he could.

Meanwhile, Ullgar recovered, shook his head, and then turned his attention to the two remaining threats.

At first, Ullgar’s eyes were firmly on Loid. He figured must have been glowing and pulsing like a signal beacon—or perhaps, a dinner sign—to Ullgar.

Then, Yor roared.

The fur on her body rose, her incredibly tightly-woven muscle fibers began to bulge underneath her skin, her red eyes narrowed dramatically, and she radiated even more lethal intent than ever.

Even Loid was struck, flinching and feeling his heart rate increase a few beats.

But, he recovered quickly, and more importantly, Ullgar had turned his attention from him to Yor.

Ullgar charged at her!

Yor charged right back at him!

Loid rapidly focused, and time slowed once more.

Ullgar’s ripples were massive, ominous, and overwhelming, coming out so violently and constantly that they struck Loid like a physical force. It was as if he was a small fishing vessel caught in the wake of a giant warship powering through at full speed, sweeping aside everything smaller without even trying.

Except for Yor, whose ripples were pulsing bright, blood-red, and clear, refusing to be overpowered.

From Yor’s dash, she planted one foot down and then transferred all that forward momentum into a kick right into Ullgar’s face.

It merely annoyed him, it wasn't enough to stop all that momentum or even slow him down significantly.

And then, as if there wasn’t enough reactive force to shatter a normal person’s bones, Yor pulled that leg back and kicked him again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

Ullgar’s head was still impenetrable, he was still charging, but he was slowing down .

But still, Yor’s kicks weren’t going to be enough to stop him before Ullgar crashed into her and ran her over like a tank with teeth and fangs.

Loid dashed around Ullgar, looking at the ripples coming from his legs, and seeing the most erratic one: Ullgar’s left hind leg.

Loid launched a water tendril at it from his spellslinger, stabbed his sword into a nearby tree as an anchor, and then pulled.

Literally magic or not, the laws of physics still seemed to hold sway in this world as Loid felt his arm nearly rip out its socket and off the rest of his body, too. Still, he held on, even as his sword started cracking and ripping gouging a line in the tree, even as his nerves burned and screamed at him to let go, even as the muscle fibers began to tear and his magic surged in to rapidly heal them and keep him going through sheer force of will .

And then, Loid felt the hard, unyielding surface of Ullgar’s leg suddenly give.

Ullgar’s second wind had run out.

His glowing body rapidly lost its luster and turned back to normal.

He was vulnerable again, and with that, the tides turned in their favor once more.

Loid yanked one more time, the water tendril around Ullgar’s leg broke or dislocated something.

Ullgar tripped and fell forward into Yor’s kicks, his face rapidly began to bruise and bleed as his skull started to crack.

Ullgar staggered back, weakened, injured, and confused, he didn’t notice the throwing knives flying into one spot on the ground until he was over them and they erupted into a tornado.

In and up the vortex Ullgar went, spinning slowly but out of control.

“Yor!” Gazyl yelled. “Stomach! Now !”

“On it!” Yor cried.

She pulled out her second poisoned knife, jumped into the vortex, was sucked in, and brought right up to Ullgar's exposed underside.

Into his stomach the needle went, sinking far deeper than it needed to go in until it hit something and stopped.

Yor felt it and smiled—until the vortex suddenly died beneath them, gravity took hold of them both, and Yor was in prime position to be crushed underneath the dying Ullgar’s titanic weight.

Up until Loid caught her with another water tendril using his sword arm, he yanked as hard as he could as his spellslinger arm hung limp beside him.

Yor slipped out from just underneath Ullgar.

Ullgar crashed belly first, driving the needle-point knife even deeper into his stomach.

Yor crashed into Loid, sending the both of them tumbling in the dirt.

“PAPA!” Anya screamed as Gazyl swore and rushed over to them both.

Ullgar groaned, pawed at the ground, and let out a pitiful, whimpering moan before he was finally still.

And then, after a nearly a year-long reign of terror, Ullgar the Undying was finally, permanently dead.

Chapter Text

Loid had figured that warbeasts and Yor especially must be leagues more muscular, powerful, and heavier than normal humans. However, he didn’t realize that Yor crashing into him would feel like being hit by a runaway car.

And not a flimsy, mass-production, working-class consumer car like a Drabant, either.

No, like one of those full-sized luxury cars often favored by diplomats and politicians in Loid’s past life. The ones that were made to be extremely heavy, extremely durable, and often bulletproofed, as well. And they were also almost always driven by skilled drivers who were specifically trained in those vehicles, both because the owners were too important and busy to be driving themselves, and because these cars were incredibly difficult to maneuver and if they so happened to hit a pedestrian or an obstacle, the car was going to do much more damage to them than the reverse.

Thankfully, though he found himself on the verge of death once more and unable to call on that mysterious strength after he had unconsciously used it tripping up Ullgar, Loid learned something comforting:

This world, with all its many lethal dangers and perils, did not lack widespread and easily accessible means to revive the recently dead or stabilize the dying.

“Come on, Forger!” Gazyl yelled as he stuffed a bun into Loid’s mouth. “Chew, chew! Eat as if your life depends on it because it probably does!"

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Forger!” Yor cried as she stood nearby, panicking. “I didn’t mean to crush your bones! Oh, please don’t die, I don’t want to have killed you, especially like this!”

“Papa…!” Anya yelled in the distance. “Anya’s coming down…!”

“Yor, catch the kid before she parachutes herself into a tree branch or something!” Gazyl said.

“Got it! She’s safe with me, Mr. Forger!” Yor cried before she left, Gazyl continued to try to feed Loid this mysterious bun.

Despite the pain throughout Loid's body, especially in his ribs, his lungs, and his spellslinger arm, the ravenous hunger of the magia quickly took over. He took a giant chunk out of the bun, chewed the bread and the juicy meat filling inside without slowing down enough to taste it, swallowed it, then did it all over again till all that was left was the wrapper the bun came in.

And then, even though Loid still ached all over his body, he couldn’t move his spellslinger arm, and his ribs still hurt, he was sure he was alive and would stay alive for a long while yet.

“Papa!” Anya cried.

Gazyl was helping Loid sit up, he turned to look and found Anya being carried by Yor, her deployed parachute dangling beneath her. She looked half-relieved, half-terrified, likely desperately wanting to do something to help and realizing all too well that there was nothing she could do.

Loid forced himself to smile. “Papa’s okay, Anya...”

Then, he winced, groaned, and carefully clutched one side of his body with his good arm.

“He really is okay, kid, he just needs healing potions and a long sit down,” Gazyl said as he pulled out all of Loid’s healing potions from his belt. “Trust me, I’ve seen way worse, this is still treatable with what we have.”

“Promise?” Anya asked, looking upset with Gazyl.

“Promise,” Gazyl said as he uncorked one of them. “Come on, Forger, drink up and show your kid I’m not lying.”

“This time, you meant?” Loid coughed.

“Spare the smartassery and just heal up already!” Gazyl snapped.

Loid let himself have a small smile before he drank the greater healing potion. Almost immediately, he could feel warm, comforting energy build up in his stomach before rapidly spreading to the rest of his body, somehow concentrating on all the worst injured parts of him. The pain faded away as the injuries that had been causing them were mostly healed; it seemed whatever Nihls had used also had analgesic effects, as he felt substantially more comfortable soon after.

“See? All better,” Gazyl said. “Watch his slinger arm, though, you guys should probably get Vahlen or Sister Tali to look at that once we get back to town, if they aren’t already with the rescue team I’m about to signal for.”

“Mm,” Anya grumbled as Yor put her down, she hurried over and hugged Loid’s good arm.

“So, now that Forger is definitely back with us among the living…” Gazyl said as he stood up. “Yor, go watch over them both in case another monster shows up despite the warding powder. I’m going to go signal the Guard back in town, start field dressing Ullgar, and secure our proof of kill before anything else has a chance to go wrong.”

“Okay, Gazyl,” Yor said as she sat down beside them, then they all looked at Ullgar’s corpse.

He was definitely dead, with how they’d spent the past several minutes treating Loid without fear of harassment or even so much as a stir or a sound from Ullgar. And, now that whatever had been constantly reanimating and keeping him alive for so long had been stopped, it seemed that so many months of accumulated injuries and decay were hitting the carcass all at once.

It was like Ullgar had been dead for hours if not days, with his fur falling off in thick, brittle clumps, his skin turning dry and leathery, and rigor mortis rapidly setting in as Gazyl struggled to roll Ullgar onto his back, as his joints and muscles had completely locked up—though, that one may have just been a side-effect of the two shots of Numbing Death.

Gazyl fired a rescue flare into the sky before he pulled out a normal hunting knife and covered his mouth and nose with a cloth mask. As he began his incisions, they all decided to look away.

“So…” Yor started, “since we’ve got time… Mr. Forger, would you like to talk about how I’m going to make up for almost killing you with one of my poisons?”

“Again, Ms. Briar, I’d rather leave that till after we get back to Reinesburg,” Loid said. “I don’t want to make demands or discussions about legal matters or compensation until I have both Captain Aleina and Mayor Ibroix’s advice about what you’re liable for, what you can be charged with, and how you can pay your debt back to me and to society.

“Besides, I feel that there's going to be quite a bit of leniency once they learn that you've helped kill Ullgar. People loathe to jail a hero who slew an infamous monster who's been terrorizing them for months, and I think they'd be sympathetic once they learn how you lost that dose to the bandits.”

“Would that bother you?” Yor asked, hanging her head.

“Perhaps if I don't get my money as Gazyl promised," Loid said. "I have a debt to repay to the Paladias and a daughter to raise alongside that," he said, looking at Anya.

“You’ll get it and then some, Forger!” Gazyl yelled as he worked on Ullgar. “Colwyn may be greedy and tightfisted when it comes to paying what he owes other people, but he’s not dumb and irresponsible enough to deny a monster hunter their payment!

"I don't know how it worked back in your country, but once the bigwigs at Illumina City get the word about a nobleman who suspiciously doesn’t have the money for a monster bounty he put up and never put down or had transferred to the international hit list, the bounty's coming out of the country's national security budget and Colwyn is going to be seriously investigated for 'Gross Negligence in the Duties of a Landed Noble,' or whatever the charge is called.

“I don’t usually bother keeping up with the laws of the stupidly rich, that’s Old Man Ibroix’s or the Captain’s job.

“Anyway, if he doesn't give you all of it lump sum, he's going to have to give you at least 20% upfront—which would be 1,568,535 fiorans—then the rest over the next 2-12 weeks, plus interest for however long the delay is. Colwyn never likes paying installments unless he really, desperately needs something now, like it’s his wife’s or his favorite kid’s birthday or he needs a great gift to suck up to the other, richer nobles and merchants in the city.

"I'd get the lump sum over the delayed payment if you've got a choice.

“Colwyn can’t deny it from you but I guarantee that he’ll find some way, somehow, to make it extremely unpleasant. Probably force you to keep going to his mansion in Port Illyria and have tea with him while he or his wife waxes poetic to you about a 'wonderful new investment opportunity that you could be putting your latest installment to if only you'd trust Colwyn with the payment and don't cash the check."

Loid nodded.

He was far too familiar with the type of rich man Colwyn was, with how often they ended up knowingly or unknowingly bankrolling both sides of the conflict between Ostania and Westalia. Perhaps they were never the ones that pulled the triggers, pressed the detonators, or opened the bomb hatches, but they certainly gave both sides the materiel, the personnel, and the logistics to do so.

“Gazyl seems to know a lot about money,” Anya said.

“What, you think I spend all my time out here, roughing it out in the woods and only ever seeing civilization when the Captain calls me in for work or my boat breaks down?” Gazyl said, looking back over his shoulder.

“Yes?” Anya and Yor went, both confused.

Gazyl sighed and turned back to Ullgar. “Okay, yeah, that’s on me for dressing like this. Anyway, my point is I like nice things too much and got too many good friends in Port Illyria for me to want to ‘live like the ancestors.’ And more so than I like those, I hate being shortchanged on what I’m owed because someone thinks I’m too stupid to realize I’m being ripped off.”

“How about Ms. Yor?” Anya asked, turning to her. “Does Ms. Yor live in the wilds all the time?”

“I’m curious as well,” Loid said. “That dress—and I mean no offense or anything untoward to you, Ms. Briar—does not strike me as appropriate attire for someone who intends to spend most of their time outdoors and exposed to the elements.”

“No, I don’t live in the wilds all the time, Anya, and you would be right, Mr. Forger,” Yor replied. “I used to live and work mostly in the city until I ended up here with nothing but my weapons and the clothes on my back—literally.”

Loid and Anya both looked concerned. “Was Ms. Yor running from Bad People, like Anya and Papa?”

"No, but I do remember that before that, I was fighting Bad People!" Yor said. "They were after my little brother, Yuri, and I was trying to protect him.” Then, a shadow fell over her eyes as she looked down, hugged her knees, and said, “And I failed and he ended up killed.”

“My condolences for your loss, Ms. Briar,” Loid said, frowning.

“Anya’s sorry Ms. Yor lost Ms. Yor’s brother,” Anya said.

“Thank you, both of you,” Yor said, smiling for a moment before she looked away again. "The worst part of it is that for some reason, my memory's all fogged up now. I think I should have died back then with Yuri, but then I woke up here at the Reines River and I can't even remember how I got here or how long it had been since then."

“Sorry to be so blunt, but do you think you might have been a victim of human—well, warbeast—trafficking?” Loid asked.

“Mm," Yor nodded. "Gazyl thought as much, too, after he saved me from some bandits who found me first and we got to talking after we rested at one of his camps. They may or may not have been the original ones that brought me here, we both killed them too fast and forgot to leave a survivor. Anyway, by his guess, they must have drugged me or cast a spell on my memories to make it impossible for me to figure out what happened, where I came from and get help from there, or even how much time has passed.

"It could be months since Yuri died if they trafficked me from overseas and I'd never know for sure or where I should go to try to look to try and bury him or make a memorial."

Loid nodded sympathetically. He had considered how magic and alchemy would affect crimes in this world, and this only made him even gladder he'd chosen to save Anya yesterday.

“That must have all been incredibly terrifying and distressing," Loid said.

“It was," Yor said, grimacing. "It was even worse because those bandits--" she started before she noticed Anya and stopped.

“Uh-huh?" Anya asked, curious.

“I don’t think I should be explaining it to someone as young as you, Anya,” Yor said, holding her hands up and smiling nervously.

Anya looked upset then focused, as if she was trying to force the answer out of Yor through sheer willpower before she gave up and looked like she’d exhausted herself, somehow.

“I suppose the important part is that you escaped them and found a friend in Gazyl,” Loid said.

Yor nodded. “He was really helpful. He gave me several potions, offered to take me to Reinesburg, and when I refused, a few days' worths of his food with more if I helped him hunt, which I have been doing.”

“Why didn’t you go to town, if I may ask?” Loid asked.

“I guess I wasn't thinking right then," Yor said, embarrassed. "I was in grief, I was confused, and I guess the last thing I wanted was someone trying to ask me questions about who I was, where I came from, and what I was doing here.

"Gazyl also told me that because we're both undocumented, clanless, and without any relatives, by blood or otherwise, it was going to make it difficult for me to even try to get citizenship anywhere, just like it is for him. Gazyl wasn't sure but he said I could even be jailed because Port Illyria doesn't want mysterious immigrants without papers running free around the city. Especially ones that can be as dangerous as me."

“I understand where you’re coming from perfectly and I sympathize,” Loid said.

“Huh?” Yor asked. “Oh, right: I remember Gazyl told me you’re both new in town, too.”

“We just arrived yesterday, to be specific," Loid said. "We fled our home country for safety and were supposed to be aiming for Port Illyria until bandits stopped us along the way. I fended them even after they shot me with Numbing Death but I collapsed soon after. Gazyl rescued us and after the Paladia family gave us shelter and food, I decided that Reinesburg is just as good a place as any to start our new life."

Yor’s lit up. “So you’re both strangers in a strange land just like me, huh…?”

“And also clearly both skilled fighters and slayers of monsters, so far as you and I are concerned,” Loid said jokingly.

Yor chuckled and covered her mouth with a hand. “Thank you for telling me that,” she said after she recovered. “It makes me feel better that at least I’m not alone.”

“Then Anya thinks Ms. Yor should live with Papa, Anya, Mrs. Polly, and Mr. Jack!” Anya piped up.

“What?” Yor and Loid both said.

“I mean, it’s not a bad idea!” Gazyl said as he came up while hauling something gigantic in a sack. “Mrs. Polly wouldn’t mind having an extra mouth to cook for and house, especially if Yor can help around the restaurant as well. She might be terrible at cooking but she is amazing at cleaning.

“She could also just work at Nihls’s atelier as an assistant. He always needs everything spotless for his manufacturing and he already has a license to deal in lethal poisons or supervise anyone who makes them for him as an assistant or apprentice.”

“Not there!” Anya cried, shaking her head. “Stinky!”

“I think I'd like to try the Paladia's restaurant first as well, Gazyl," Yor said. "I know you said I could make a great income monster hunting but I think I want to live a more peaceful life."

“Suit yourself,” Gazyl said, shrugging. “Also, speaking of monster hunting: behold!”

He put down the sack and revealed what was inside, everyone gasped as they saw a gigantic, yellow crystalline mass. Loid thought it was about the size of a truck’s V8 engine, if not bigger. It reflected brilliantly in the sunlight and when the clouds passed over them, it still glowed with its light.

“Is that Ullgar’s magic gem?” Yor asked.

“That it is,” Gazyl said, smiling. "Take it all in and maybe touch it if you want to. This will probably be the last time we'll ever be this close to this thing again before the city guard secures it. The next time we'll probably hear about it is whenever Port Illyria puts it up for auction. I'd bet anything it's going to be the center of a historic bid war unless someone downs something even bigger and stronger than Ullgar was."

“So cool...” Anya said, awed.

Loid tried to touch it, it felt smooth, cold, and unyielding like a diamond or refined metal. He tried to course a bit of his magic into it, and the gem resonated powerfully with his magic, his light blue quickly turning yellow.

And then it blasted Loid with the same overpowering ripples Ullgar emitted when he was alive, Loid flinched like he was punched and took his hand off it.

“Woah, Forger, you alright?” Gazyl said.

“Yes,” Loid said. “I guess I shouldn’t have tried to put some of my magic into it.”

“Geeze, Forger, you needed even more memories of how Ullgar was like when he was still alive?” Gazyl asked, a bit concerned.

"Too curious for my good, I think," Loid said. "I'll stop now.”

“Good call,” Gazyl said. “Careful what you touch, Forger, you’ve got a kid to worry about and you’re not a researcher at the University.

“Yes, I will,” Loid said.

“So if this is Mr. Ullgar’s shiny thingy, did Gazyl find the Bad Thing, too?” Anya asked.

“Yeah, what’s left of it, anyway,” Gazyl said, pulling out a separate sack hanging from his waist. He held it out, all three of them could only make out was Yor's injector knife stuck into some purple-black, melted, and deformed mass of what seemed to have been rock or metal at some point.

“Icky...” Anya said, looking grossed out.

“What even was that?” Loid asked.

“Beats me,” Gazyl said, shrugging. “It was like this when I got to cutting up Ullgar. He always did look like he was barely hanging on by a thread, so whatever was keeping him alive seems to have also been doing the bare minimum to keep him moving and deadly.”

“Do you have any guesses what it may have been?” Yor asked. “I want to at least try to figure out what that is, in case we happen to need to kill something similar to Ullgar again.”

“Could be some sort of ancient cursed relic that Ullgar swallowed up by accident and that took over his body, could be an attempt to turn him into a bioweapon as seems to always happen around Port Illyria’s monster trade, or he could have just been a laboratory experiment that got out and was never intended to be in the wild or live this long,” Gazyl said. “The possibilities are endless and I’m not an archaeologist, nor military police, nor a monster researcher.

“So I say, let’s just keep our proof of kill secured, our bodies and limbs completely intact, sit tight while help arrives, and once we’re back in town, leave those mysteries to the people who’re qualified to investigate,” Gazyl said as he sat down with them.

“Sounds good to me,” Loid said.

This did sound terribly familiar to his old spy work and after this Numbing Death investigation and the hunt for Ullgar, he was swearing off of espionage permanently. Especially now that magic, non-human sentient species, and monsters were thrown into the mix.

Though he never thought of ever wanting or being able to have it before, now he just wanted a peaceful family life in this other world.

Chapter Text

Less than an hour later, the rescue team from Reinesburg found them, starting with a single forward scout. To none of Loid’s surprise, she was also another warbeast like Gazyl, some sort of long-eared predator from the claws on her hands and the look in her eyes that reminded him of tracking dogs on the hunt.

She acted professionally coming in through some brush and into the area, hailing Gazyl and identifying herself before scanning the area. Then, as soon as she noticed the titanic corpse that had been left laying eviscerated and covered in as much preserving “corpse powder” as Gazyl and Yor had been carrying on them, the calm and seriousness broke, and the scout yelled:

“Holy—is that Ullgar the Undying?!”

“Was, sister!” Gazyl said, grinning as he opened the sack containing Ullgar’s magic gem. “Got a magia in the group, Nayla? Bring 'em here and let them resonate with this puppy if you don't believe it's him and just some other steelhide bear!”

“Oh, Gazyl, you were only supposed to be looking for more Numbing Death with Forger,” Nayla said, shaking her head.

“We were!” Gazyl said. “We found all the two remaining doses and with Yor’s help—say hello, Yor--”

“Hello! I’m Yor!”

“--Plus Forger and his kid, Anya, we used them to get rid of Ullgar permanently.”

“Anya helped find the Bad Thing inside Mr. Ullgar!” Anya said proudly.

“That you did, kid!” Gazyl said, playfully ruffling the top of her head. “You keep talking about whatever thoughts pop up in that little head of yours.”

Anya giggled, Loid groaned. “Gazyl, don’t encourage bad behavior like this. I’m going to have to teach Anya to be more careful about what she says in the future and I’d appreciate you not making that harder.”

“Oh, come on, Forger, you’re a magia, you should know that young air mages almost never shut up or stop thinking,” Gazyl said. “Let her express herself and be free, like the wind.”

Their conversation was interrupted when they heard some other voices shouting in the distance, unintelligible to Loid’s ears as the monster meal’s effects had already worn off.

Nayla’s ears twitched and turned independent of her head, then she looked over her shoulder and yelled, “They’re all over here, everyone! Get ready to escort them back to the river and also haul one heck of a steelhide bear carcass home!”

Then, she turned back to Gazyl and said, “You better have a good explanation for the Captain, Gazyl. She’s not going to be happy to hear about this.”

“Since when has she ever been happy to hear news from me?” Gazyl shot back.

"Oh, be fair to yourself, Gazyl!" Aleina shouted as several footsteps rapidly marched through the wilds. "I can remember one or three times when I have been, over the years we've known each other."

Nayla stepped aside to make way then Aleina came storming in, her boots glowing yellow-brown and leaving a freshly-turned dirt path behind her.

“Captain Lady!” Anya cried, throwing her arms up.

“Anya,” Aleina said, smiling at her before she noticed Ullgar's corpse, and then her eyes widened. "Gracious Granhelia—is that Ullgar?!"

“It was Ullgar, Captain!” Gazyl said, grinning. “He’s very much dead and gone now, as you can see.”

“Oh, Gazyl...” Aleina groaned as she smacked a palm to her face. “I trusted you, you should at least trust us back and warn us that you were going hunting again…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Gazyl said, waving his hand as he stood up. “I’ll listen to your speech and give my defense after we’re out of here and on the way home, Forger may or may not need some medical help.”

“Fair enough,” Aleina grumbled before she saw Yor and paused. “Excuse me, but I don’t think I recognize you. Are you a wandering monster hunter?”

“Hello, I’m Yor Briar, we haven’t met yet!” Yor said, waving and her bunny ears perking up. Then, she looked to the side, her ears lowering as she continued, “And no, I’m not a monster hunter—or, at least, one with a license like Gazyl.”

“Then who are you, if may ask?” Aleina said as she approached slowly.

Yor looked down, her ears drooping as she said, “I’m the creator of the Numbing Death that’s been causing so much panic here in Reinesburg and the dose almost killed Mr. Forger.”

“I see,” Aleina said as she took a pair of metal handcuffs from her back. “I don’t think I need to explain that I’m going need to arrest you now, Ms. Briar?”

“I’m ready, Captain Aleina,” Yor said as she looked at her and held out her wrists. “I’m not going to resist.”

“Thank you, your cooperation is appreciated,” Aleina said. “Ms. Briar, you’re under arrest for the illegal creation of highly lethal alchemical substances within the Reinesburg area. You will now be taken back to Reinesburg Guard Garrison and imprisoned, pending bail or your impending trial.”

“Ms. Yor’s going to jail?!” Anya cried. “But Ms. Yor helped us kill Mr. Ullgar!”

“I can vouch that she's a decent, upright person, poison-making skills aside, Al!" Gazyl added. "I've had 6 weeks of hunting and working with her and never once did I feel that I needed to watch my back then just watch hers."

“Huh, and I don’t believe you ever made mentioned or reported on this relatively lengthy working relationship between you two, Gazyl,” Aleina said, glaring at him.

“I had my reasons, as did Yor,” Gazyl said.

“I’d encourage you to hear them out as well, Captain,” Loid added.

“Your defense is noted, I believe I’ll speak privately to Gazyl first,” Aleina said. “I’ve got a good sense this was all his idea.”

“Guilty as charged,” Gazyl said.

The rest of the rescue team had already arrived on the scene, traveling on foot or a large cart loaded with extra ammo, supplies, and rescue and exploration equipment. Then, after Aleina and Gazyl confirmed the area was secure and he didn’t have any more secret partners living out in the woods, they headed back to the river on the path that Aleina had just made.

“Hey, you didn’t happen to find my boat on the way here, did you, Al?” Gazyl asked as he rode on the cart with the Forgers and Yor.

“We did, I spotted it from the water, then decided that was as good a place as any to drop anchor, take it aboard, and then start tracing your steps," Aleina replied.

Gazyl sighed in relief. “Ah, thanks, Al, I’d hate to have to hitch a ride back here to reclaim my ride.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Aleina snapped. “You’ve got a lot to explain, Gazyl, and I’m not letting you go until I’m satisfied.”

“Fine, fine, I figured as much,” Gazyl replied, shrugging.

They made it back to the river, Loid saw two much larger vessels than Gazyl’s boat anchored along the shore. They seemed to be some sort of armored, armed tugboats, each towing a barge. One was a mobile clinic, the other loaded with cages for monsters, captured live or corpses like Ullgar was.

Instead of the small engine that Gazyl's boat had which could be powered by one or two mages charging it, these had much larger engines and equally big fuel tanks powering them. As Loid would later learn, they were full of a specially refined, unsafe-for-humanoid-consumption version of liquid mana, one of Port Illyria’s biggest domestic exports.

For Gazyl’s interrogation, Aleina took him aboard the boat that was to haul Ullgar. Everyone else was taken to the mobile clinic, Yor included. After Loid learned it also had jail cells, he figured it wasn’t a coincidence considering how freely available weapons were and combat experience was in the general population.

And perhaps humane treatment of detainees was also a common practice here in the world, as you couldn’t get much more respectful and civil to your prisoners than freely offering them tea and cookies through the food slot of their cell.

“Master Vahlen started brewing the tea just after we dropped anchor and the cookies were just baked earlier this morning!” Na-bi said, smiling. "You can't get any better than this! Oh, well, I suppose your being handcuffed might be a bit of a problem..."

“It won’t be, Na-bi!” Yor said, picking up her cup in both hands with ease. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to do things with both hands tied. If anything, it’s so much easier now that they’re cuffed in front of me!”

She took a drink of Vahlen’s tea and hummed, pleased. “And this tea really is very good! Thank you, Mr. Vahlen.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Briar!” Vahlen said as he stood beside Loid laying on a gurney and naked from the waist up. “Forgive me for not offering to adjust the temperature to your exact liking, I’m afraid my calling as a surgeon is much more needed at the moment.”

“If I may ask, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said as Vahlen turned on the overhead exam light, “why are you making your living as a tailor these days instead of a doctor? In my experience, most medical professionals tend to stay in the field for their entire lives.”

“Perhaps if they only have so many decades to practice like most sentient species, Mr. Forger,” Vahlen said, adjusting the intensity and then positioning it over Loid’s spellslinger arm. “Our long lives and excellent memories certainly give us an advantage but it comes with drawbacks, like our inability to adapt quite as quickly to change and to abandon practices that have been or are becoming obsolete.

“When your doctor is old enough to argue that leeches should not be phased out as it’s worked fine for hundreds of years, most patients tend to want to seek younger, more updated professionals,” Vahlen said as he examined a nearby rolling table full of medical instruments.

“Are you that old?” Loid asked.

“No, but one of my old teachers, when I was still a medical student, was, so my point still stands,” Vahlen said, pulling out some familiar-looking tools and then checking Loid's vitals. “Besides, I needed to leave the field for a few decades and don't feel like coming back full-time for just as long. May as well do something that has me making use of all the precision muscle control and attention to detail I cultivated in medicine."

“… You still do know how to treat severe muscle strain in a magia’s arm, don’t you?” Loid asked, deadpan.

“But of course, Mr. Forger!” Vahlen said, beaming. “Now, let’s make space for your new prosthetic!” he said as he picked up a hacksaw.

There was the sound of someone spitting tea. “Mr. Vahlen’s going to chop Papa’s arm off?!” Anya cried, sputtering.

“I’m just joking, Young Miss Anya!” Vahlen said, quickly putting the hacksaw down. “Oh, dear, Ms. Nam, please do get her a napkin.”

“I was already on it, Master Vahlen!” Na-bi cried.

“Anya doesn’t think that joke is funny!” Anya cried.

“Sorry, Anya,” Loid said, smiling apologetically at her, too. “Papa and Mr. Vahlen will stop with our dark jokes now.”

Anya grumbled, upset.

“I’ll get on with the actual business of medicine now, too,” Vahlen said, putting a hand to the side of his face. “St. Lumina, grant me sight beyond sight, may your light shine on what is hidden, may your grace show me how best to heal this one.”

The burnt ocher of Vahlen’s eyes glowed and rapidly changed hues, Loid could see Vahlen intensely focusing on Loid’s injured arm. He guessed that Vahlen was, quite literally, looking right through him as an x-ray machine would.

“Hmm… no damage to the underlying skeleton, though predictably, it shows several years' worth of prior injuries and healing…" Vahlen said. "Shoulder remains firmly in its socket despite Ullgar almost having ripped it off." His eyes strayed to Loid's chest and he said, "Ah, and I suppose we'll both have to thank Nihls later for such effective and reliable healing potions, your ribs are whole. Though I suspect you're going to feel the aftermath of Ms. Briar's ungraceful landing for a while yet."

“Sorry about that again,” Yor said from her cell.

“It’s fine, Ms. Briar, I probably should have positioned myself better as well,” Loid said.

“Switching vision now..." Vahlen said, touching the side of one of his eyes for a moment. "Hmm… yes, I can see what you mean now by severe arm strain. We're quite lucky your muscles are extremely used to trauma and strength training and that you're quite adept at magical self-healing, Mr. Forger. Ullgar must have put up quite the resistance despite being distracted by Ms. Briar, for there to still be so much leftover radiation nearly an hour later."

“I believe I unconsciously called upon all my available strength then, physical and magical,” Loid said.

“Papa was so cool then, trying to trip Mr. Ullgar!” Anya said. “And so was Ms. Yor! Anya couldn’t even see how many kicks Ms. Yor did right into Mr. Ullgar’s face! Ms. Yor was like--” Anya started making what Loid could only assume to be “furious kicking noises.”

Everyone chuckled or giggled.

“Yes, yes, I’m certain it must have been quite the sight,” Vahlen said. “Switching vision, by the way.”

“Anya wishes Anya could watch that again,” Anya hummed.

“You may want to write this down and submit it as raw material for a scriptwriter in Port Illyria!" Na-bi said. "The theaters and performing troupes there are always looking for fresh content to keep the crowds interested and coming back, it's such a competitive business. And hunting down a legendarily infamous monster is always going to guarantee some level of success."

“So Anya can watch it again?!” Anya cried, excitedly.

“Maybe not with your Papa and Ms. Briar exactly, they’re going to have to be professional actors,” Na-bi said. “They don’t just put newbies into starring roles if they don’t already have some sort of prior experience.”

“Aww, but Anya wants to see Papa and Ms. Yor fighting Mr. Ullgar again,” Anya said. “Won’t be the same with other people pretending to be Papa and Ms. Yor.”

“Unfortunately, your Papa shouldn’t be acting or doing any more serious magic use any time soon, Young Miss Anya,” Vahlen said. “His main casting arm has gotten very stressed over these past two days. Mr. Forger, you should be resting it for a few days to a week without casting, or you should consider getting an enchanted brace to remove some of the strain on it if you can’t help using your magic for daily life.”

“Does it look particularly bad?” Loid asked.

“No, but any more of this high-powered, intense action, and I guarantee you it will look very bad indeed," Vahlen said, touching the side of his eyes and bringing them back to normal. “Don’t push yourself to the point where I have to start operating on your arm to keep it functioning, Mr. Forger. Or, you may find we really will have to consider amputating it and replacing it with a prosthetic.”

“I don’t intend to get into any more of this sort of trouble any time soon, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said as Vahlen shut off the lights. “Any advice moving toward the future?”

“Consider carving out some time for dedicated magical training, Mr. Forger," Vahlen said. "Your time as a soldier has given you a good foundation but your time as a butler may have weakened it considerably."

“Any recommendations for a trainer or a facility?” Loid said as he sat up.

“The Temple of the Dark Mother back in Reinesburg ought to be good, especially since Sister Tali is also a water mage and has been eagerly waiting to meet you, Mr. Forger,” Vahlen said. He paused as he noticed Loid’s expression and said, “Unless you have any particular objections to that…?”

“The name ‘Temple of the Dark Mother’ gives me pause, to be frank,” Loid said.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Mr. Forger,” Vahlen said, chuckling. “Take it from a life-long faithful of Illumina: the Cult of the Dark Mother is harmless and quietly keep to themselves at worst or are actively helpful and excellent neighbors at best, as our chapter in Reinesburg is.”

“It'd also make your life pretty difficult if you don't want to work with them," Na-bi added. "Their temple is the only place in town that has both the experts and the highly-specialized equipment for magia-specific problems. I mean, you could always just travel upstream to Port Illyria to a public or private hospital, but the lines are going to make your life pretty miserable. There are just so many magia working and living there and their workplaces have the advantage of scheduling them in bulk.

“And don’t worry about the bloodsuckers there at the temple, they strictly ask for consent before feeding on anyone and actively try to stop well before anyone’s in danger.”

Loid nodded slowly. “Should I try to come after sunset, then?”

“If you happen to want to have the greatest amount of potential magical trainers and medical professionals, Mr. Forger,” Vahlen said. “The temple’s doors are always open, especially with how many of them don’t need to sleep and who are not quite as vulnerable to daylight, such as Sister Tali.”

Loid nodded. “One more question: do they do examinations on young children like Anya?”

Anya gasped.

"Of course, Mr. Forger," Vahlen said. "They service all ages, from the young to the old to the old enough to be someone's distant ancestor. Why? Is there any particular issue that you've noticed with Young Miss Anya? I did study pediatric surgery and mage-specific issues.”

“Just a regular check-up for the both of us,” Loid lied. “Our disorganized flight from our home country hasn’t left us with many opportunities for doctor’s visits. I’m rather sure we’re overdue for something, and it wouldn’t hurt to get to know the people we’ll likely have to rely on for our healthcare.”

Anya whimpered, uncomfortable and clutching Chimera tightly. “Anya doesn’t want tests...”

“Don’t be scared, Anya, Papa’s going to be with you the whole time,” Loid said.

“Promise?” Anya said.

“I promise,” Loid said.

“Mm,” Anya said, still clutching Chimera nervously.

“Moving on,” Vahlen said, “speaking not as a doctor but as a tailor, Mr. Forger, I would recommend you get at least one other set of daily clothes for both you and Anya plus sleepwear. Maybe something formal as well for business or events.”

“I’d like something good for a chef at a restaurant,” Loid said. “Slip-resistant leather shoes and a vest, as well, in case I need to do double-duty as a server.”

“Is that for helping Mrs. Polly and the restaurant? Anya wants, too!” Anya said.

“You heard her,” Loid said. “Perhaps more of a maid motif with a built-in apron and a skirt than pants.”

“Any particular nation’s maids in mind?” Vahlen said as he continued writing. “We’re rather spoiled for choice, thanks to Port Illyria. And I’m certain she’ll look fantastic in anything.”

“Keep it local to here in Lumania, I don’t want her to stand out too much or disrupt the Paladia’s décor and style,” Loid said.

“Oh, umm, if you’re ordering clothes, is there any chance I can order some, too?” Yor asked. “I’d like some other clothes aside from this dress, I think it stands out too much for wearing on the street. Um, I don’t think I can pay you right now, though, since I don’t have any money on me...”

“Nonsense, Ms. Briar!" Vahlen said, laughing. "You helped slay Ullgar the Undying, landed the killing blow, and created the poison that made him so vulnerable, to begin with. Your heroism is payment enough for clothes you can wear comfortably in your day-to-day and more!

“Besides, I'd be lying by omission, if I didn't say I was ecstatic at the prospect of designing and creating clothes for a warbeast like yourself," Vahlen said, walking up to Yor's cell. "Such power, such grace, such incredible musculature, and yet in such an unassuming figure… normally, I'd have to pay to have access to a model like you and more so to have her wearing my clothes long-term,” he said, chuckling as his eyes started burning with passion.

“Oh, um, thank you…?” Yor asked, confused.

“Mr. Vahlen’s being weird...” Anya said.

“Sorry, Master Vahlen just gets like this sometimes,” Na-bi said, smiling. “More tea? We’ve got plenty!”

Chapter Text

With Vahlen and Na-bi’s help plus some supplies specifically for getting blood out of clothes, Loid’s jacket and shirt were cleaned and dried so he could put them back on. Vahlen declared Loid good to move again, everyone else assured Anya that they were going to keep Yor company and not do anything “Sneaky Bad” to her, and then father and daughter went outside of the mobile clinic to watch the scenery.

Unsurprisingly, they were speeding straight back to Reinesburg despite moving against the current and arrived back at the South Gate in no time.

“Hey, Forger, right?!” one of the gatekeepers yelled as they worked the crank that operated the water-side part of the gate. “Glad to see you and your kid are alright! And it seems you bagged one heck of a monster, too!”

“Thank you for your concern and the congratulations!” Loid yelled back.

“Thanks, Gate Person!” Anya yelled, too.

“You’re welcome, you two! Have a nice rest of your day!" the gatekeeper said before the boats traveled through the now open gate.

They made their way along the artificial canals and the natural channels of Reinesburg to the center of town. As it was around noon now, Loid was starting to see what Aleina said about preferring the town at this time, with how alive it was despite its relatively small size.

People were lining up at a bakery with a constantly smoking chimney, coming in and out of the building or lining up at a separate counter that seemed built out of a large window for those that just wanted to grab something and go. Their giant sign was of a loaf of bread and a toasted Asian-style bun, both made to look like they were so hot they were steaming by clever positioning of auxiliary chimneys behind the sign.

Its name was both in Lumanian and foreign script he’d later learn was from the Hexie Shengdi Alliance: “Savanwood Bakery.”

Right beside it, there was a store was that making equally brisk business selling cold drinks, along with having tables, chairs, and benches for people to sit down and enjoy their meals and chat if they weren't going inside to check out the "Deal of the Day."

The sign on this one read “Reinesburg General Store” and was decorated with paintings of daily necessities and household furniture.

They were far from the only two places to get food in the town center, however, as Loid noticed several other smaller stalls or other buildings that had all manner of cuisine and foreign scripts native to Lumania and elsewhere. They served up soups, stews, flat-bread or open-faced sandwiches, grilled and fried meats and seafood, all manner of grains and lentils instead of or alongside bread, and finishing with all manner of desserts both cold and hot.

And of course, there were entertainers, musicians, performers like jugglers and magicians, and actors doing small productions in the square or portable stages built out of wagons or large wooden boxes. They seemed mostly catered to young children, as Loid saw various older adults and older children talking among themselves nearby or quietly enjoying it alongside their children, wards, and siblings.

(Technology did not change things, just make things easier and wider spread,) Loid thought to himself, smiling.

“Papa, Papa!” Anya cried, tugging at Loid’s pant leg.

“Yes?” Loid asked.

“Can Anya go watch, too?” Anya asked.

“After we’re finished talking to Mayor Ibroix and discussing what happened, Anya,” Loid said. “We still need to talk about what’s going to happen to Ms. Yor, after all.”

Anya’s eyes widened, she had probably completely forgotten about it. She recovered and said, “Right!” Then, after a short pause, she asked, “Can Ms. Yor watch with Anya and Papa, too?”

“I don’t know, Anya,” Loid said, shrugging. “We’re going to have to find out if she’ll be allowed to walk as a free woman here in Reinesburg. And if she is, I wouldn’t be opposed to watching a show together to thank her for her help.”

“Mmm,” Anya mumbled, uneasy.

From watching wide-eyed and fascinated at the hubbub going on along at the town square, Anya was looking down at the deck with a cloud hanging over her head.

(She’s gotten extremely attached already,) Loid thought. (Well, I suppose if I met someone as capable as Ms. Briar back when I was still a spy, I would have strongly recommended to WISE that we recruit her. And now that more monster hunting is not entirely out of my future, I would be a lot more confident about my odds if she were with me.

(Putting aside her having been indirectly responsible for my close-call yesterday, she also seems like quite the pleasant person. Assuming she isn’t detained here in Reinesburg or transferred to Port Illyria’s jails, I think I should vouch for her joining the Paladia’s staff.

(Gazyl may have lied about her presence earlier but they don’t strike me as hiding anything else nor having any real good reason to.)

The leading patrol boat blew its horn. Loid pulled himself out of his thoughts and realized they were near the Reinesburg Guard Garrison and about to enter it through another waterside gate.

As the building was originally designed to be and continued being one of the town’s primary evacuation centers, it was a fortified, mostly self-sufficient base defended by stationary turrets and with more heavy weapons and ammo ready to be deployed from the armory.

The turrets were clean, unloaded, and pointed downwards where they’d only shoot the floor or the empty canals beside the walls. As the boats’ crews prepared to dock and lower the gangplanks, Loid quietly wished that they would remain that way for a good long while yet.

With the constant threat of monsters, this world would never truly be peaceful, but they could build and protect places where children could be safe and happy.

They disembarked, Vahlen and Na-bi excused themselves to get back to the tailor shop, while Yor was escorted off the boat by two guards. Aleina and Gazyl joined them soon after, Loid’s eyebrows rose as he saw the latter.

“Gazyl’s cheeks are all red,” Anya said, pointing.

“Yeah, the Captain decided to go see how far she could stretch my cheeks without ripping my face apart,” Gazyl moaned as he rubbed his face.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you go until I was satisfied, didn’t I?” Aleina said as she glared at him.

Then, Aleina turned to the others, put her serious face back on, and said, “Mr. Forger, Anya, Ms. Briar: come with me inside, I’ve heard everything I needed from Gazyl. Now, it’s for me to talk to you all, both about this investigation and yesterday’s incident with the bandits and the poison.”

“Yes, Captain,” Loid said, Yor nodding quietly with him.

“Is Ms. Yor going to be in really big trouble, Captain Lady?” Anya asked.

“I promise I'll explain it once we're inside, Anya," Aleina said. "We shouldn't be talking about this here. Gazyl won't be with us, by the way; he's going to be updating 6 weeks' worth of hunting reports that left out Ms. Briar's presence and her contributions to his shockingly effective few weeks of monster and bandit subjugation patrols,” she said as she glared at him again.

“Don’t worry about me, guys,” Gazyl said as another guard came over to take over for Aleina. “I’ll see you all later.”

They were escorted into the garrison, Gazyl going down a different hall as soon as they were inside.

The officers there saluted Aleina and were curious about Yor, but Aleina told them she was handling it and shut down any questions. Ullgar also ended up being an effective distraction as the news of his final, permanent death spread, several members were called to help secure his corpse into cold storage and contact the authorities, like Mayor Ibrox, Lord Colwyn, and the University of Port Illyria’s Monster Research Department.

Soon, they were in one of the interrogation rooms, Aleina, Loid, and Anya on one side, Yor on the other. There was little other security present other than the guard posted outside the door, nor did it seem necessary with how cooperative Yor had been. If anything, Loid thought it would be extremely counter-intuitive.

(Treat a suspect as a criminal, and they will see you as their enemy and fight you,) he thought. (Treat a suspect as a friend, and they will tell you most anything you want.)

It was the usual, to start: Aleina getting Yor's details on record, confirming what Gazyl had told Aleina about Yor, and finally, Loid and Anya vouching that was what Yor had told them, as well. And with her credibility established, Aleina got to the heart of the matter:

“Ms. Briar, I am afraid you’re going to have to be detained here in Reinesburg before going on trial at Port Illyria,” Aleina said. “You’re almost guaranteed to be charged for the illegal manufacture of a highly dangerous poison that was used in the attempted murder of Mr. Loid Forger. The punishment for that will likely be 10 years imprisonment, plus compulsory service if you can’t pay the 1 million fioran fine that comes with it.”

Yor nodded and bowed her head, her ears flopping sadly. “I understand.”

“Ms. Yor’s going to jail?!” Anya yelled.

“Yes, Anya, I’m afraid she is,” Aleina said.

“But what about Ms. Yor helping kill Mr. Ullgar?!” Anya cried.

“This is with her having helped kill Ullgar, along with all her other extenuating circumstances—that's lawyer-speak for, 'all the things that mean she's getting in less trouble,'” Aleina said. “I’ll skip the fine details but just making Numbing Death has already put her in Very Big Trouble.”

“Is illegal poison manufacturing really such a heavy crime in Port Illyria?” Loid asked.

“Yes, especially when the poison ends up being used in an attempted 2^nd-degree murder or worse, a 1^st-degree murder as part of an assassination plot," Aleina said. "It doesn't matter if the criminals are swiftly brought to justice, honestly. Any day lost in the chaos of an ‘unexpected hierarchy restructuring’ is hundreds of thousands to millions of fiorans lost and a huge leg-up for businesses’ competition and surviving politicians’ rivals.

“So, if you can’t totally stop it, the people in power decided to make sure that anyone who illegally provides the means pays, figuratively and literally. And to be fair to them, it worked.”

“Can Ms. Yor not go to jail?” Anya asked hopefully.

“I’m afraid not, Anya,” Aleina said, shaking her head at her. “Sorry to keep disappointing you.”

Anya frowned and grumbled.

"I don't want her to go to jail, either," Aleina said. "But even though this all happened in Reinesburg, Numbing Death being involved demands that the city guard will have to step in. If we don’t, there could be charges for me and your Papa, too, for not telling them about it earlier. After that, I guarantee you someone will try to take both of us away.”

Anya yelped and clung to Loid desperately before she looked extremely conflicted, looking between Yor and Loid.

“By any chance, is there some way that we can negotiate for Ms. Briar’s release?” Loid asked, uneasy. “Bail, perhaps?”

“Mr. Forger, you don’t have to go this far for me,” Yor said.

“Oh, but Ms. Briar: I want to,” Loid said as he turned to Yor. “You’re a victim of unfortunate circumstances beyond your control just like I and Anya were. And as much as I can respect your willingness to take responsibility for your actions, I don’t think this is the kind of justice that you deserve or I want to see done.”

“Thank you, Mr. Forger,” Yor said, smiling and blushing as her ears perked up slightly. “I don’t think it’ll change much but I appreciate hearing it.”

“And you’d be right on that, Ms. Briar,” Aleina said. “You’re clanless, without blood-kin, or documents from any sort of internationally-recognized organization like the Hunter’s Guild. There’s no way anyone can post bail for you, especially with the anti-corruption and anti-organized crime laws we have.”

“I’m assuming because the one posting bail needs to be someone of good character and who has a personal and/or legal relation to Ms. Briar, to guarantee that this isn’t some sort of shadowy organization trying to free their cohorts?” Loid asked.

“Exactly,” Aleina said, nodding. “So, Ms. Briar: if you can jog your memory and happen to remember anyone—really, anyone—that happens to be related to you as blood-kin or even just former clan-kin, is a citizen of Lumania or lives mostly in Port Illyria, and is not currently in jail or has a serious criminal record, now would be the time.”

Yor sighed, her ears drooping again. “I don’t know any or even have any, I think. As I said, my only family was my little brother, Yuri, and he's dead. I don't even know what country we came from and if we can call them for help, either.”

“Then I suppose there’s no legal recourse but for you to go to trial in Port Illyria and then jail there, Ms. Briar,” Aleina said sadly.

“NO!” Anya screamed before she clutched Loid’s arm and shook him. “Papa, do something! Papa can do something, right?!”

Loid looked at those desperate, begging eyes, the glint of hope amid all the fear and terror in them. He considered his options and then, he said:

“Let’s go talk to Mayor Ibroix later since he must be busy dealing with Ullgar right now. Maybe he knows something.”

“Yeah! Grandpa Ibroix! Grandpa Ibroix could help!" Anya said, nodding like they'd managed to find a lifeline.

Loid smiled, while quietly dreading what would happen if this turned out to be a false hope. He had decided to be a father but he did not yet know how to break the news to a child this young, about the cruel realities of the world and the legal system.

“We might as well go together when you do, considering I’m responsible for Ms. Briar right now,” Aleina said. “I should also mention that because of how cooperative and well-behaved Ms. Briar has been and her being the one to land the killing blow on Ullgar, I thought that it might be best if I put her on probation instead of in a jail cell.”

“What’s ‘on pro-vation?’” Anya asked.

“Probation, with a ‘b,’ Anya,” Aleina said. “It means that Ms. Yor will get out of those handcuffs and will be free to walk around here in Reinesburg, so long as she promises to wear a tracker, stay within the town’s walls, and keep on behaving. So long as she doesn’t do anything stupid like try to sneak onto a boat leaving town, she’ll be treated no differently than you and your Papa were when you two first arrived yesterday.”

Anya nodded. “Anya thinks that sounds good.”

“I think it sounds good, too,” Yor said, nodding. “Is there anything else I need to worry about?”

“Well, if you want to get extremely technical and by-the-book about it, yes, there’s plenty. But, I think we can relax a lot of those rules," Aleina said. "I want to show you the same respect and civility you've shown us. Just don’t abuse our trust, because, in the end, I’m here to protect Reinesburg first,” she added, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“I would never dream of doing that!” Yor said, shaking her head furiously. “I don’t know how much it’s worth, but I was thinking about trying to protect the town, back when Ullgar was chasing me.”

“Oh?” Aleina asked. “How so?”

"Well," Yor said, "after I managed to catch his attention, and then killed him several times over a few days, I thought to myself, ‘Oh no, I’m being chased by a really powerful and dangerous monster! I remember I'm good at fighting and killing things, so if I'm struggling, how is anyone else going to fair against him?!’

“So, I started retreating further and further into the wilds, away from the direction of Reinesburg, so anyone that happened to work outdoors wouldn’t accidentally meet Ullgar or worse yet, he’d follow them back to town and start attacking everyone there.

“An admirable decision," Aleina said. "But, rather an unnecessarily self-sacrificing one. Did you not meet at all with Gazyl at that time? He should have mentioned that we here at the town guard would have been happy to have sheltered you here, and then start organizing another hunting effort."

“I did and he did say that," Yor said. "But, oh, I guess I was just afraid of how people might react if those hunts went wrong and lots of innocent people died again like Gazyl said they did the last time. And then, because you could say I was the one that made Ullgar a problem again after so many months of being able to forget about him, they might start blaming me for those deaths."

“And how did you think they were going to react if that happened?" Aleina asked. "You sound so worried."

“Well...” Yor started, nervously toying with her hands.

“Waaahh…!” a little girl who resembled Anya cried, sitting next to a closed coffin with a portrait of a man who resembled Loid. “Papa’s dead! Papa tried to kill Mr. Ullgar but Mr. Ullgar killed Papa first!”

“I’ve never had to fit so many funeral clothes so quickly in years, if not decades!” a fae who resembled Vahlen wailed, with a young woman who resembled Na-bi weeping uncontrollably beside him. “So much death! So much loss! So much tragedy and so swiftly one after the other! Ah, damn you, Ullgar, damn you and whoever it is that attracted your ire and forced us to try and hunt you down again!”

“This is a complete and utter disaster!” cried a different fae who resembled Aleina but in a normal guard’s uniform, without her captain’s badge. “We’ve lost so many of our guards and countless volunteers beside! And Ullgar’s still outside the walls, hungry and probably still looking for more people to eat! We may have to make a distraction just to evacuate who’s left in Reinesburg at this rate!”

Imaginary Yor just stood there nervously, looking ashamed, saddened, and horrifically guilty.

All of the Not-Townspeople-of-Reinesburg stopped and looked at Imaginary Yor.

“Not Anya’s got an idea,” Not Anya said.

“Perhaps we need not design another set of funeral clothes but a set of full-body restraints...” Not Vahlen said, pulling out his scissors and a comically large needle.

“As a town guard, I have to protect the people of Reinesburg first,” Not Aleina said as she pulled out a sword. “And this woman’s not a citizen, is she?!”

“GET THE BAD LADY!” Not Anya cried.

“Wait, everyone!” Imaginary Yor cried, throwing her hands up as her ears pulled back in fear. “Please, stop! I don’t want to hurt you!”

Back in the real world but looking much the same, Yor continued, “And then I’d probably end up having to kill several people in self-defense before I’d be able to flee the town. No doubt word would spread about what happened from the survivors and even if I wanted to, I don’t know this town well enough to have planned to stop messengers or chase down runners while trying to silence every witness.

“Then, even if I fled to another town and tried to change my identity, I’m pretty sure they’d trace figure out that was me and try to capture me again, or I’d attract the attention of a different monster haunting some other town, and then the tragedy will just start all over again...” Yor said, looking down.

Loid, Anya, and Aleina all stared blankly at Yor.

“I...” Loid said. “I don’t think that’s how it would work out. As in, at all.”

“Ms. Yor thinks weird...” Anya said.

“You know, on second thought, I may need to reconsider letting you roam free around Reinesburg...” Aleina muttered, glancing at the exit behind the three of them.

Chapter Text

Aleina ultimately decided that—despite the paranoid delusions, lethal poison-making skills, and incredible combat skills—Yor was a non-threat like the rest of the town’s more powerful residents and so could be trusted to roam free within Reinesburg. Alongside the new ankle tracker to be attached to her leg, however, Aleina was personally acting as her probation officer and intended to follow Yor around until whenever the city guard arrived for the hand-over.

“Are you sure this is alright with you, Captain Aleina”? Yor asked as they were signing the consent forms for the probation. “I’m not sure what exactly you do here in Reinesburg, but I think that you’re probably much more important than just following me around to make sure I don’t cause any trouble.”

“Please, Ms. Briar," Aleina said, smiling, "I've been the Captain of the Reinesburg Guard for nearly a century now. All my subordinates are perfectly capable of taking over all my duties if I'm unavailable or personally dealing with an especially important case like yours."

“I admire your dedication to contingencies and planning for the worst, Captain Aleina,” Loid said.

“I have to confess it’s a mixture of practicality and honoring my predecessor and mentor,” Aleina said. “Her untimely death and her contingency plans for it were how I got this position in the first place, and I don’t intend to disappoint her now, after all these decades of work.”

“How old is Captain Lady?” Anya asked.

“Anya!” Loid cried as he turned to her. “It’s rude to ask a lady her age.”

Aleina sighed and frowned. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Forger, and you as well, Anya. I'm not like those fae folk who like to pretend they're an ‘eternal centennial.’ I’m 938 years old as of the start of this year.”

As part of his training, Loid unconsciously tried to calculate how Aleina’s age would affect her thinking and her life experiences. Then, he realized, that not even WISE had ever considered that any of their agents would meet or have to speak to someone who was old enough to have witnessed the beginnings of the first millennium in person.

“Wow, Anya didn’t think Captain Lady was that old!” Anya said innocently. “Anya doesn’t even think Anya can count that high!”

Aleina winced. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t keep bringing it up like this, though, Anya...”

“Yes, yes, it’s very private information for most women, so we should stop talking about it,” Loid said as he smiled and put a hand on Anya’s shoulder and gave her a stern look.

Anya stared at him looking curiously before she seemed to have gotten the message, and with a nod, she shut up.

Loid made a note to get her more peanuts, once they finally got to the general store. And get her some honeyberry tea, while they were at it.

“I don’t think you should be that ashamed of it, Captain Aleina,” Yor said as she put forward the finished documents. “I’m getting older, as well, and it makes me kind of glad that someone like you can still look so young, be so dignified, and also respected.”

“That makes me feel… somewhat flattered, Ms. Briar,” Aleina said as she looked over the documents. “I’m not going to ask how old you are, by the way.”

“Oh, I don’t mind if you do or that you all know—my memory may be full of holes but I remember that I’m already 27!” Yor said cheerfully.

Aleina flinched, her professional expression broke for a moment. If Loid wasn’t mistaken, it looked like she was just about to cry. Thankfully, with the grace of a veteran law enforcement officer in such a public-facing position as Captain, Aleina quickly recovered and continued to do her job, signing off on the probation pipers and sending them off to be filed.

Aleina personally configured and attached the tracking bracelet on Yor’s ankle, and when it was firmly and comfortably attached, everyone went back to the entrance hall where Gazyl had been waiting.

They updated him on Yor’s case, he sighed and his ears drooped. “Well, that sucks,” he said. “I’m sure that Old Man Ibroix’s going to figure something out to get her out of it scot-free, though.”

“Gazyl, don’t just give Ms. Briar false hope or imply that our Mayor is willing to break the law for the town’s benefit,” Aleina said flatly.

“Alright, alright!” Gazyl said, throwing his hands up. "I take back what I said. Because we both know Old Man Ibroix is such a stalwart follower of the letter of the law.”

Aleina sighed and shook her head. “Moving on…” she grumbled. “Ms. Briar, I must ask: will you be staying here at the Garrison or will you try to find someplace else to stay for the next few days? It won't be a cell but one of our guest rooms for visiting officials, though I can understand if you'd want to find lodgings elsewhere."

“Anya thinks Ms. Yor can stay with Mrs. Polly and Papa at Mrs. Polly’s house!” Anya offered.

“Anya, don’t go talking like Mrs. Paladia has already agreed,” Loid said. “We haven’t even spoken to her about Ms. Briar and she hasn’t even met her yet, either.”

“Maybe Mrs. Polly can meet Ms. Yor now?” Anya asked. “Anya’s hungry, too.”

“Kid’s got a good point, we did manage to make it back in town during lunch,” Gazyl said, looking out a nearby window and at the afternoon sun shining high over the town. “I could use something to eat again, too. Narrowly dodging consecutive brushes with certain death is hungry work.”

“I’d like to join, too, please,” Yor said. “I’d be happy to clean up the dishes afterward since I can’t pay!”

“And since you’re all already agreeing, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if I stick around the Paladia’s restaurant, too, in case Mr. Fitzroy comes in for another ‘courtesy visit’ any time soon,” Aleina said.

“So everyone’s all going to Mrs. Polly’s house?” Anya asked.

Aleina nodded. “Yes, Anya. We’ll take one of the ferries.”

Anya cheered and threw her arms up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for all of us,” Aleina said as she beckoned them to follow her out the doors.

Loid smiled and said, “Lead the way, Captain.”

They got back to the Paladia’s restaurant by the tail end of the lunch rush around 1:30 PM, Mrs. Polly greeted them from the window into the kitchen.

“Welcome back, Mr. Forger, Anya!" she called out, a knowing smile on her face. "Some morning walk you two must have had, huh? Normally, most folks would just have introduced themselves to the neighbors and done a bit of shopping. And yet, here I just heard the news you went on the hunt for Ullgar, and the guard finally shipped back his body than any of yours, thank the Earth Mother!

“I’m guessing your party and the Captain are here for a late victory lunch?”

“Yes, we did, I apologize for not telling you before we left, Mrs. Paladia," Loid said, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Mrs. Polly said, chuckling and waving them off, “I’m used to the men in my life always getting into trouble, somewhere, somehow, so long as I take my eyes off of them for more than a second.

“Now, come on: wipe your feet on the mat, wash the blood and mud off your hands if you still got any, and then take a seat! Jack will be out with drinks for everyone while I finish getting your lunch ready!”

“I’m already on it, Mother!” Jack called out as he came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with pitchers of cold tea and glasses.

“Hello again, Mr. Paladia," Loid said as they sat down at two adjacent tables. "Did you sleep well earlier?"

“Hello Mr. Forger, and yes, actually, but waking up was a doozy,” Jack said as he walked over. “I thought to myself, ‘Alright, this time , I'm sure I'm just going to take a short nap, 15, maybe 30 minutes!' Next thing I know, it's past noon, Mother's waking me up, and talking about how there was a messenger that was just here, giving us the happy news that Ullgar is finally dead , dead , and you helped take him down!

“I thought I slept through an entire day or I must have fallen through a crack in time like those comics at the general store, I was so confused!”

“My apologies, I suppose I’m just too used to working swiftly and efficiently,” Loid said, smiling.

“Yeah, I was starting to realize,” Jack said flatly. “Glass of sweet tea?” he asked as he raised his tray.

“Yes, please, Mr. Paladia, and one for Anya, too,” Loid said.

“Thank you, Mr. Jack!” Anya said.

“You’re welcome,” Jack said as he served them both. “How about you, Al—I mean, uh, Captain Aleina?”

“I’d like one, Jack, and no need to be so formal,” Aleina said. “I may be here on official business but you can relax.”

“Okay, Al,” Jack said as he put a glass down. “And Gazyl?”

“You know it, pal!” Gazyl said. “Ran out of honeyberry on the way here and I think I’m not going to have the money to buy new bottles any time soon.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you recruited a civilian on a monster hunt without prior notice or permission,” Aleina said as Jack poured her tea.

“I did, why do you think I’m taking free tea where I can get it?” Gazyl asked as he was given a glass, too.

“And how about you, Miss? Yor Briar, if I’m not mistaken?” Jack said as he reached the last member of their party.

“I am, and I’d love to have some tea, thank you,” Yor said, smiling.

Jack poured her a glass before he stepped back. "Anyone needs anything else? Something to snack on while you wait, maybe?"

“Peanuts! A lot of peanuts!” Anya cried, throwing her hands up. She paused then quickly lowered her hands and added, “Please.”

Jack chuckled. “Big bowl of peanuts, coming up,” he said before he went back to the kitchen.

“Good on you for remembering, Anya,” Loid said as he patted her on the head.

Anya giggled.

“You really love peanuts, huh, Anya?” Yor asked.

“Mm,” Anya said. “Anya loves peanuts! Not like carrots, Anya doesn’t like carrots...” she said, looking to the side.

Yor chuckled. “It seems she might be a bit of a picky eater, huh?” she asked Loid.

“I’m not too worried about it just yet, since I’m quite confident in my skills as a chef,” Loid said as. “If I can’t make carrots and other foods she might dislike palatable to her, there is always just trying to find ways to hide them, instead.”

“Anya doesn’t want Papa to hide carrots in Anya’s food!” Anya whined. “Anya doesn’t like that even more!”

“Don’t worry, Anya, I’m not going to,” Loid said, smiling. “At least, not yet.”

Anya harrumphed, unamused.

Loid let himself have a laugh at her expense, but just a small one.

And fortunately, Anya completely forgot about it when Jack returned with the big bowl of peanuts, Anya cheered and started devouring them.

Loid looked at her happily enjoying himself and smiled a little wider.

“You really love your kid, huh, Forger?” Gazyl asked after a sip of his tea.

"Yes, I do," Loid said, nodding. "It honestly kind of surprises me, the intensity of my feelings for her. She just came into my life out of nowhere and now I can't imagine one without her, especially now that she needs me more than ever. And I suppose in many ways, I need her, too."

“Aww, real father of the material year right here and he doesn’t even have to try,” Gazyl said, chuckling.

“I’d hold off on any awards, real or imagined, for now,” Loid said as he picked up his glass. “The reward money for Ullgar is a tremendous help, but I still need to find a more stable income to support the both of us after it inevitably runs out, and I need to invest in Anya’s future.

“I haven’t even had time to figure out what the education and job opportunities are for us here in Reinesburg and Port Illyria, once I’ve paid off my debt to the Paladias.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that too much, Forger,” Gazyl said, swirling his glass and making the ice in it clink. “You’re both magia, just that fact alone sets you up for life here in Port Illyria. Look at me: I was just another orphan in that city and I managed to get out of that life relatively easily just because I’m wyrde .

“So long as nothing happens to either of your abilities to generate, conduct, and manipulate mana and magic”--Gazyl knocked on the wooden table with his free hand--”you’re both going to be able to find someplace that will be willing to hire, pay decently, and give you a great deal on all the other perks like work schedules and vacation time. Heck, at the magical output you’re capable of and Anya could be since she’s your kid, you two could just go around recharging mana furnaces around the city every few days.”

“Maybe if we’re talking about being able to afford a decent place to live and be able to consistently afford food and daily necessities, that would be a decent backup plan for making a living ,” Aleina countered. “I wouldn’t recommend it, though.”

“So what would you recommend, Captain?” Loid asked.

"You could enroll at the University of Port Illyria to become a licensed magical machine operator, a magical tool technician, or magical item dealer, which will give Anya a massive head-start in family benefits when she's old enough," Aleina said. "And then, ideally, you'd pursue further education and specialization beyond that, such as Master of Alchemy like Nihls, or perhaps even a Doctor of Medical Magics like Vahlen."

“There’s just no there’s no end to the sorts of opportunities and rewards for a mage who can do so much more than just power, use, or deal in other people’s magical machines and tools.”

“Anya doesn’t like studying, though,” Anya said, pausing her peanut-devouring for a moment. “Especially tests. Anya really doesn’t like tests.”

“Don't count it out so soon, Anya!" Mrs. Polly said as she came out of the kitchen with a serving cart loaded with food. "If it weren't for my husband, Jojo, being a magia and an engineer at the University, we would have never had the money to start this restaurant, to begin with, or keep it open during its first year when it was just losing money, month in, month out.

“There’s going to be a time when your Papa might not be able to work as much anymore, and with the amount a University position can pay, you can easily start earning more than enough for the both of you,” Mrs. Polly said as she and Jack started setting out the plates.

“Mmmn...” Anya grumbled as she looked bothered.

“That’s a long way yet, though,” Loid said as delicious aromas began wafting from the table. “I don’t want Anya to feel like she’s compelled to go into a career she doesn’t like. Ideally, she should be able to do something she enjoys. Or maybe something that just doesn’t have as much studying.”

“Umm...” Yor said, “sorry if I’m interrupting, but: maybe Anya could consider becoming a monster hunter? I heard from Gazyl that it pays very well and most people retire well-off or go into good jobs after less than a decade in the business. And we probably couldn’t have killed Ullgar if she didn’t sense whatever the Bad Thing was inside of him!”

“You know what? That could work!” Gazyl said. “Even if she never ends up picking up a weapon or learning how to fight as well as you, Forger, Anya could easily serve as a communications operator. She can already use her air magic to communicate from long distances, even better once she has the right tools and infrastructure for it.

“Heck, maybe we could even start her training early and keep bringing her with you when you go out for another monster hunt, so she can get used to the stress and the chaos of the field.”

Anya gasped. “Does Anya becoming an operator mean Anya can keep going on adventures with Papa?!”

“No,” Loid said sternly. “I don’t want to actively put Anya in more danger than she strictly needs to be.”

“Aww, but Anya still wants to go on adventures...” Anya said.

“If I may play devil’s advocate for a moment, Mr. Forger, being a comms operator is also about the safest job in the monster-hunting business,” Aleina said. “It’s probably even safer than it would have been back when you were in the military, considering monsters don’t consider them priority targets unless something has gone horribly wrong.”

“Plus, the kid's got a talent for detecting what's hidden," Gazyl said. "Would be a shame to just let it go to waste. You could even consider it father-daughter bonding time!"

“Hunting monsters together and risking both our lives and limbs?” Loid asked, incredulous.

“Um, if it helps, I remember my brother Yuri and I used to chase and hunt wild animals around our house all the time when we were little kids,” Yor said. “It was always so fun and if anything bad showed up, I could always fight it off before it could hurt either of us.”

Loid looked at Yor, remembered how she’d managed to survive attacks from Ullgar and kill him several times over a few weeks before they finally killed him today, and decided he could believe her combat prowess could have started at that young age.

And now, he was realizing, he could have accidentally given his daughter a taste for the monster-hunting life, too.

“If you’re really worried about Anya being safe during hunts while you’re on the front line, you could always just get her a guard monster,” Gazyl said. “So long as you don’t go crazy with things like breeds and pedigrees, the reward money ought to be more than enough to get a quality beast and feed ‘em and house ‘em for a while. Maybe some kind of warhound she could ride, so it can get her out of danger for you if it isn’t already ready to throw down for her sake.”

“Does Gazyl mean Anya can get a puppy?!” Anya asked, wide-eyed with excitement.

Loid wanted to say “No.” But he could not say it directly to that face, so he turned to Mrs. Polly.

Mrs. Polly met his eyes, smiled, nodded, and said, “I mean, if you can house train it, stop it from raiding the pantry, and keep it out of the kitchen and the dining area when there are customers about, I don’t mind!”

“Aren’t you worried there might be customers that could be allergic to animals?” Loid asked. “It could damage your business.”

“Why would I be?” Mrs. Polly asked, confused. “If any of them were, they’d probably already be taking something for it before they ever get out of their house. I can't even imagine what life would be like if every other person you pass by on the street causes a reaction.”

Loid paused.

He subtly glanced at Yor and Gazyl, both with huge swaths of their bodies covered in fur and who probably produced just as much if not more allergens as animals could in Loid’s previous life. And unlike animals and pets, they could not be banned from public places and private establishments short of some incredibly racist policies.

He hadn't been taking an active count, but Reinesburg had a lot of warbeast residents, and who knows what other sentient species could also trigger allergic reactions to animal dander?

“Is there something the matter, Mr. Forger? I think you were just looking at me,” Yor said.

“No, nothing, just thinking,” Loid said.

“About getting Anya a puppy?” Anya asked.

“About how I’m going to start building our new life here exactly, now that we’ve come into all this money,” Loid replied, smiling. (And hopefully, without going insane from the stress or well-meaning advice from others.)

Anya just looked at Loid with a mixture of disappointment and confusion, but thankfully, Mrs. Polly’s cooking and hunger distracted her well enough.

Chapter Text

As lunch continued, talk inevitably turned to the hunt for Ullgar and what Loid did aside from getting clothes for himself and Anya at Vahlen’s tailor shop.

Aleina alleviated any concerns about leaking confidential information, saying, "The case is effectively closed and waiting for the city guard to come. Mrs. Polly also deserves to know about Ms. Briar, what she's done, and who she is."

And when they finally got to Yor’s potential charges, Mrs. Polly was more upset about the prospect of Yor going to prison than having sheltered and fed an actual suspect for a serious crime, albeit one currently on probation than a suspected fugitive.

"Who do you think I am, Mr. Fitzroy?!" Mrs. Polly scoffed over her cup of after-meal cocoa. "I'll have you know my family's been feeding and putting a roof over the head of countless strangers-in-need over generations, just like almost every other family does in Lulurun Valley.

“That we even have the guest room Mr. Forger and little Anya are staying in right now is because I told my husband, Jojo, if he wanted me to marry him and move to Reinesburg, our house better also be a restaurant, with a big kitchen and even bigger dining room, and at least one extra room for whoever happened to need one.

“We have two, actually, but since it’s just been me and Jack running the place for almost a year now, we’ve only been able to keep dust and mold out of the attic.”

“If I may keep the focus on you for the moment, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid asked as he held a mug of “kaffa” instead, “why has it just been you and your son for the past year? I can understand why your daughter Diana isn’t around to help, but I haven’t seen nor heard much about your husband.”

“Oh, that’s because Jojo’s dead,” Mrs. Polly said somberly. “He was part of the rescue team for a monster hunt gone wrong, helped save the whole party but at the cost of his life. Now that I mention it, it's just a month or so till his first death anniversary.”

“My condolences, I’m sorry for asking,” Loid said, bowing his head.

“Oh, don’t look so down, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Polly said, shaking her head. “I’m done mourning and we’ve all been long in the process of moving on from losing Jojo and then my second son, Junior, too. I’ll tell you both about them some other time; right now, we need to be worrying about Yor over here, before she might be gone before we know it, too.”

“Yes, of course,” Loid said, nodding.

“Is there anything Mrs. Polly can do to help Ms. Yor not go to jail?” Anya asked, also holding a mug of cocoa.

“Afraid not, Anya,” Mrs. Polly said, shaking her head. “All the law I know happens to be about running a restaurant, serving alcohol, and shipping food and drinks through Port Illyria, and that last one’s only because my cousin is one of my main suppliers.

Anya looked disappointed and sighed. “Okay, Mrs. Polly...”

Loid made a note to teach Anya how to react politely to people’s well-meaning words of comfort later. "Maybe it's time we go and see if Mayor Ibroix has any ideas after we help clean up," he said as he stood up.

“No, you just leave this all to me, Mr. Forger!” Jack said as he quickly followed suit. “You and Anya did like a night’s worth of dishes earlier this morning, I should at least do this much for you now and give you the time to tackle this.”

“Thank you, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said before he turned to the others. “Ms. Briar, Captain Aleina, if you could please come with us? It’ll be better if we’re all present and I'd love for someone to guide me to the town hall."

“Of course,” Aleina said, nodding as she stood up. “No objections, Ms. Briar?”

Yor shook her head. “I suppose I can start help cleaning up later, too,” she said as did as well.

“Well, I guess I’ll just start hanging around town till it’s time for the victory feast tonight, then,” Gazyl said before he stretched his arms and yawned. “It’s been a busy, busy morning and I could use a long nap...”

“Oh, no: you’re coming with us, Gazyl,” Aleina said as she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, what? Why?” Gazyl asked as he turned to Aleina, his ears and tail perking up in distress.

“Because you’re the closest thing Ms. Briar has to a friend and a resident who can vouch for her good moral character,” Aleina replied. “Mayor Ibroix won’t doubt her but the more names on record, the stronger our case to Port Illyria that she deserves to be free. You’re not just going to abandon a warbeast sister now, are you?” she said, giving Gazyl a loaded look.

“Ugh!” Gazyl said, his ears twisting downward as his tail twitched, annoyed. “Fine, I’m going, I’m going,” he said as he reluctantly got out of his seat.

Yor giggled then said, “Thank you, Gazyl.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gazyl grumbled as he followed after them.

"Good luck, everyone!" Mrs. Polly said, waving as they left through the double doors. "I hope you come back with some good news!"

They boarded another ferry, this time headed towards the town hall.

Instead of the busy town square, however, they were traveling to a part of Reinesburg Loid hadn’t seen before, towards the west.

“It’s on the border of the umbran side of town,” Aleina explained. “I know, I know: strange that a town owned, run, and populated mostly by lumen races would have a minority of umbran races who have districts all to themselves, but Reinesburg has the space. And aside from making sure nights in the lumen side are peaceful and quiet, the Temple of the Dark Mother serves as a hospital for all of us regardless of our origins or beliefs.”

“I heard from Vahlen and Na-bi,” Loid replied, watching the passersby become more frequently alien and monstrous in appearance, though all still humanoid. “Is there any reason for putting town hall in such a significant location? I can’t imagine this being anything less than a deliberate political decision.”

“When the original town hall was condemned and the new one to be built elsewhere, the Mayor of Reinesburg of that time decided to move it there, as a show of goodwill to the then-growing population of umbrans," Aleina replied. "It was intended to mean both symbolically and practically that umbrans didn't need to cross over to the lumen side of town just to get necessary business done, and that they weren't just being tolerated because they paid taxes and didn't cause much trouble.

“That time’s head of House Colwyn agreed, and so town hall has stood there since.”

“And did it work?” Loid asked.

“Depends on who you ask,” Aleina said, shrugging. “That was well before my time here in Reinesburg. But, looking through the records and the archival copies of the Reinesburg Weekly, there seemed to be a lot of protests about the sudden increase of taxes on the umbrans, as ‘part of becoming better represented and serviced here in Reinesburg.’”

Loid snorted softly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“So if town hall’s between two sides of town, what does it look like, Captain Lady?” Anya asked.

“I could describe it to you, but it’s a lot easier just to see for yourselves,” Aleina said before she pointed to the other side of the ferry. “You should be able to see from there soon.”

Anya turned around and walked over to the empty seats on the other side, Loid followed her. And soon, they saw Reinesburg Town Hall.

It did not do much to differentiate itself from the rest of the town, architecturally speaking.

It was still made of stone, painted bright, prominent colors than the material’s natural shades of gray, with three floors and a tower jutting out of its roof. Though town hall had several magic crystal-powered devices, the tower had an especially large one that didn’t seem to just be a bell or clock, Loid figured it had to be a defense system of some sort. There was also a humanoid, life-size statue in front of the building, but Loid could not make out its details from the distance.

What Loid could tell, however, was the way town hall was half in light, half in dark.

The effect was thanks to the abundance of large, mangrove trees that grew on the muddy, swampy banks and the positioning and designs of the bridges and buildings blocking out the sunlight. The town hall had two side entrances, one on the light side, one in the dark, and one main entrance so large and wide it was in both.

(Symbolic and practical indeed,) Loid thought.

They disembarked from the ferry and went on a path to the main entrance. Loid, Anya, and Yor all stopped as they neared the statue, now close enough to make out the intricate details and read the plaque on its base.

Lady Reines de Renara

Founder of Reinesburg

A devoted believer of the Illumina Faith.

A stalwart defender of Port Illyria.

A shining blade of justice to slay evil and bring the light of hope to all who need it.

Though she now rests elsewhere with her wife, Lulurun, her legacy and the town she had built will survive her for many generations more.

Loid knew the current year by examining all the legal documents he’d seen. So, he’d say that Lady Reines would probably have been happy about her town continuing to thrive and grow 350 years after her death.

“Pretty lady,” Anya said, in awe at how the metallic material reflected in the sunlight.

“Is that sword real?” Yor asked. “It looks so impressive even if it might just be a replica. It’s almost like you could still use it to cut a man or a monster in half with a single swing.”

“Yes, Lady Reines was quite well known for her beauty, and no, that sword is a replica,” Aleina said. “The real thing was almost entirely made of etherite and remained fully functional and effective for battle decades after she gave it to her successor. It would have been a terrible and frankly tasteless decision to have used it as part of a statue, instead of continuing to use it as it was intended: to protect people and slay evil.”

“Not that that has ever stopped countless rich people from taking powerful weapons out of the field, so they can show them off at their big ol’ mansions!” Gazyl said.

“Where is the sword now?” Yor asked. “I’d love to see the real thing if I can.”

“You’ll find what remains of it in the Port Illyria Museum of History and Culture,” Aleina said.

“Might want to save plans for a trip there till after we’re sure you won’t be jailed and put to hard labor, though, Yor,” Gazyl said.

“Oh, right,” Yor said sheepishly, her ears drooping as she blushed.

“Let’s head inside,” Loid said.

The town hall was, unsurprisingly, incredibly busy. It didn’t have much staff but all of them were constantly doing something, on a “sylph messenger” to report the news or discuss the consequences live, writing up or updating documents, or carrying them in and out of various rooms and office spaces.

“What’s going on?” Anya asked as Aleina spoke with the lone staff member at the front desk.

“The same as always when a Named monster is killed, kid: figuring out what more we can do around Reinesburg now that it’s a lot safer outside the walls,” Gazyl explained. “Maybe just Ullgar's death won't make be enough to consider something huge, like a permanent expansion of the walls, but we ought to see a lot of people eager to put money into Reinesburg these next few months."

“I don’t mean any offense, but what would entice them to invest?” Loid asked.

“The one thing that Port Illyria always lacks and can’t just buy more of: space to build, on the cheap,” Gazyl said. “The killer real estate prices in the city is one of the big reasons that I moved here. Some years back, when me and several friends all pitched in to afford a decent place, it felt like we’d barely have anything left after just rent, let alone all our other bills.”

Loid nodded. Even in a different world infested by monsters, the woes of trying to live in a major urban center remained the same, it seemed.

Then, Aleina returned and told them that Ibroix was waiting for them upstairs in his office. “He’s already been caught up with the investigation and he has no questions, so we can go straight to discussing Ms. Briar’s legal predicament. He also says we should hurry.”

“Did he explain why?” Loid asked.

“He said he couldn’t say it over the line, with so many people that could overhear us here,” Aleina said, glancing around the busy first floor.

“Oh, well that probably means it’s not because of something ominous and terrible!” Gazyl said.

“Shut it, Gazyl, not now!” Aleina snapped before she turned to everyone else. “Mayor Ibroix’s on the third floor. We can take the elevator.”

This world’s elevators were like the earliest examples Loid had only ever seen in pictures or museums, with the metal scissor gates, large and obvious gears and motors operating them, and the elevator relatively slow and noisy going up, compared to what Loid was used to.

Anya seemed strangely uneasy as they entered it, Loid held her hand and she clutched it tightly back.

They reached the third floor, Anya scurried out ahead of them as soon as the gates were finished opening. Loid was concerned until Anya relaxed almost immediately, now that they were in a long hallway.

There were only a handful of doors here, each labeled as some sort of storage or archive like most of the town hall seemed to be. It left plenty of space to hang portraits, all large and in full color, their subjects noble men and women with dignified expressions.

Each had a date and a name on a plaque, Loid was unsurprised to see each one ended in “Colwyn.”

(This family seems awfully intent to make sure their presence is always felt, even if the latest successor doesn’t even want to live in his township,) Loid thought as they walked.

He found the latest one, for “Lord Carvell Corvus Colywn” but decided to pass on giving it a thorough examination. He had a feeling he was going to meet the man himself soon enough, and he would be able to give Loid much more information in person than a painting ever would.

They finally reached Ibroix’s door at the end of the hall, Aleina knocked. “Mayor Ibroix, we’re here.”

“Ah, thank the winds of fate and their swiftness!” Ibroix called out from inside. “Here, I’ll open the lock.”

Loid felt magic coursing through the walls. The lines carved on the door glowed, the metal knob twisted itself, and then Ibroix’s office door swung wide open by itself.

“Welcome, everyone!” Ibroix said, smiling as he sat behind his desk and beckoned them. “Come in, come in, have a seat wherever you please.”

“Thank you, Mayor Ibroix,” Loid said before he looked around.

Contrasting his subordinates below who were mostly behind desks or dealing with documents or archives, Ibroix’s office seemed more like a parlor for entertaining guests than a mayor’s office made for processing documents and having important meetings with other officials.

Aside from his desk and a shelf full of papers nearby, the furniture was made of several luxurious couches upholstered in elaborately patterned and woven fabrics, low tables for holding tea and snacks, and in one prominent corner, there was a set of tableware, a glass cabinet full of snacks and pastries, and a machine that Loid would learn was Ibroix’s “kaffa brewer’s set,” for making his favorite drink any time he liked.

Loid and the others sat down on two couches that were next to each other, Ibroix rolled over to them on a motorized wheelchair mostly made of wood and metal.

“Normally, I would offer to brew you all some kaffa first, as is polite in Qiel’solai,” Ibroix said. “But, time is not on our side and we must decide now before someone else decides for us."

“What do you mean, Mayor Ibroix?” Aleina asked, frowning. “Did something happen?”

“Yes,” Ibroix said as he stopped in front of them. “Lord Colwyn has learned about the situation here in Reinesburg, and more importantly, Ms. Briar’s capabilities as a monster hunter and her precarious legal position. I’m afraid he’s about to try and invoke some old laws and compel Ms. Briar to work for him as long as he can as an indentured servant."

“An inden-sured what now?” Anya asked, confused.

“He’s trying to make Ms. Briar his slave, Anya,” Loid said.

“Yes, or at least as close as the Illyria Accords will let him,” Ibroix said, nodding somberly.

Yor gasped, Anya looked panicked and horrified, Gazyl and Aleina both looked furious.

“He can’t possibly hope to make this move and keep it from getting challenged and overturned,” Aleina said.

“Yeah, the optics alone are going to make him a pariah,” Gazyl said. “How does he think he’s going to get away with being a human owning a warbeast slave here in Port Illyria, of all places?”

“The nature of Ms. Briar's crimes, unfortunately, gives him a good chance of mitigating the worst of the public backlash," Ibroix said. "Sympathies drop dramatically if he can successfully paint Ms. Briar as a menace to society that needs to be removed and forced to make recompense, especially with her having manufactured several vials of Numbing Death and having lost one to murderous human traffickers.”

“But that was an accident! I was trying to get it back!” Yor cried, her ears upright and twitching in panic. “Oh, and I’ve been trying so hard not to hurt anyone..!”

“I know and I believe your good intentions and moral character as much as the others must do, Ms. Briar,” Ibroix said. “But, even with the massive dent Ullgar’s bounty money has made to Lord Colwyn’s finances, he can still probably afford to hire a small army of mercenary journalists news to start spreading rumors and salacious gossip about you.

“Even if your innocence is eventually proven or the people inevitably lose interest, he only needs a swift victory now for him to force you into a contract, after which making you a free woman again will become even more complicated and expensive.”

“So what do we do?” Loid asked, frowning, his mind running through all the possible solutions he could help with. “How do we keep Ms. Briar out of the clutches of prison or Lord Colwyn? I still want her to be able to make up for my near-death experience yesterday, but not with another injustice!”

“Yes, please, tell me you’ve figured something out, Mayor Ibroix!” Yor said, nodding.

Ibroix smiled. “There is a solution and we can enact it right now, actually,” he said.

Yor sighed in relief, Loid nodded and silently told him to continue.

Ibroix did, saying: “Mr. Forger, Ms. Briar: you two will to marry each other.”

Yor and Loid blinked, the former’s ears going straight up.

Aleina and Gazyl were also silent, stunned.

Meanwhile, Anya gasped in delight. “Anya’s going to have a Mama again! And it’s going to be Ms. Yor! Yay!”

Chapter Text

For all of two seconds, the only sound in the room was Anya humming happily and smiling.

Then, Loid’s brain managed to recover from the shock, formulate some sensible words, and then ordered his mouth to start delivering them.

“Mayor Ibroix, that’s--” “I don’t think I can--”

Loid and Yor spoke simultaneously, both turned to each other on reflex, then just as quickly turned away in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Forger,” Yor said, her ears drooping and seemingly trying to cover her face, “I think you were the one that spoke first.”

“No, no, Ms. Briar,” Loid said, shaking his head. “I believe you should be the first to voice your complaints. After all, you’re the one who’s at the center of this case and will be the one most affected if it all goes wrong.”

“… If you insist, then thank you, Mr. Forger,” Yor said. She took a moment to compose herself, her ears rising up slightly before she said, “Mayor Ibroix?”

“Yes, Ms. Briar?” Ibroix said, still smiling as if nothing was wrong.

“I don’t think I can marry Mr. Forger,” Yor said. “It’s just not fair to him or to Anya.

“I don’t know much of who I am or what my past was, before my brother died and I found myself here. What if those people that were after us were part of a criminal organization that could have roots here? What if we weren’t just random, unlucky victims and one or the both of us had done something to incite that attack? What if I was a member of a criminal organization and it was my crimes that brought us both in danger?

“I don’t want to get out of jail now only to attract worse trouble to two innocent people and the rest of Reinesburg, especially if even I don’t realize it’s coming for us!” Yor cried, her ears going straight up and twitching.

“And aside from my spotty memory and all these unanswered questions…" Yor said as her ears drooped and she looked to the side, "we've barely even met and I barely know a thing about them. I don’t even know what happened to Mr. Forger’s wife, who I can only guess is the same person as Anya’s mother, or what sort of situation they’re dealing with as a family after having to flee their home country.”

“My wife, Anya’s mother, is dead, Ms. Briar,” Loid said somberly.

He debated adding a time and further details to that. Then, he deferred ‘give too little information if unprompted’ before he painted himself into a corner prematurely, especially since he was relying on a third party who was only just “learning” this fact now, too.

“You miss your Mama, don’t you, Anya?” Loid continued as he looked at Anya, giving her a loaded look.

Anya had proven her uncanny ability to read people several times. Surely she wouldn’t fail him here?

Anya’s excited face quickly turned into a face of grief. "Mm, Anya misses Mama… but Mama's not here anymore and Ms. Yor is!" she said, brightening back up immediately. “Anya won’t forget Mama but Anya also wants a new Mama, and Anya wants that new Mama to be Ms. Yor!”

(Ah,) Loid thought to himself as he suppressed a frown, (intentional sabotage from a conflict of interest. I should have expected this, in hindsight.)

Yor whined, embarrassed. “Ooh… that’s sweet of you, Anya, but I really have to ask: why me?”

“Because Ms. Yor is nice,” Anya said. “Even when Mr. Ullgar was trying to kill Ms. Yor for so long, Ms. Yor was worried about keeping Mr. Ullgar from hurting other people. Ms. Yor also helped Gazyl and Papa from getting killed by Mr. Ullgar, and Ms. Yor was really cool during the fight! It was exciting, even if Anya was scared Mr. Ullgar was going to hurt Ms. Yor, or Papa, or Gazyl!"

Loid sighed. Of course, as a young child, she would be enticed by someone who was simply “nice” and could provide so much entertainment.

“But other than that...” Anya continued, her smiling expression growing serious. "Ms. Yor is alone and with no family or anyone to help Ms. Yor anymore. Anya knows what it's like, to be alone, feeling like there's no one to help Anya. Anya felt it all the time when Anya was taken by Bad People.”

She frowned and started shaking like she didn't want to continue but had to, and so she forced herself to.

Loid reached out and took Anya’s hand, she sniffled and clutched it tightly back as she continued:

“Anya was scared. Anya was confused. Anya didn’t think anything was okay for Anya. Anya wanted Papa, Anya’s First Mama, anyone who could save Anya from the Bad People…!”

She was almost about to burst into tears now, Loid worried before Anya managed to blink them back. Quieter now, struggling to just get the words out and be audible, Anya said:

“Then Papa found Anya. Papa helped save Anya from the Bad People. When Anya is with Papa, Anya doesn't feel scared, confused, or alone anymore. Anya is okay now! And Anya doesn't want Ms. Yor or anyone else to feel that way…

"So that's why Anya wants Ms. Yor to be Anya's new Mama. So Ms. Yor won't be alone anymore, too, because Ms. Yor is with Papa and Anya now.”

Aleina was already in tears, covering her mouth to muffle her sobbing.

Gazyl’s eyes were watering and he was desperately wiping them with the fur on the backs of his hand.

Yor looked like she was barely keeping it together, too.

Ibroix was smiling, looking both deeply moved and proud.

And Loid? Loid was holding, he was standing his ground against this devastating ad misericordiam.

He was one of the adults here, Anya’s father, he could not be swayed by her well-meaning, honorable, altruistic, but the ultimately impractical and too naive idea of how to help Yor.

“Papa?”

Loid was slipping. He hadn’t even noticed that Anya had shifted and turned to look up at him, even though he was holding her hand.

He was no longer a spy, and would never be a spy anymore if he had a choice. But still, he needed to at least be capable enough to notice when his daughter was making another move, brace himself before she hit him with the full force of those sympathy-inducing puppy dog eyes.

“Doesn't Papa want Ms. Yor too?” Anya asked.

As a member of a future hunting party?

An ally in another emergency or dangerous investigation like the Numbing Death was, with the main suspect/s likely to be of much less sympathetic circumstances and weaker moral fiber than that of Yor?

As a potential housemate and co-worker in the Paladia's restaurant, because aside from cleaning, she could double as an excellent bouncer for troublesome people like Mr. Fitzroy?

As Anya’s mother, as Anya so clearly wanted to have a mother again or perhaps for the first time that Anya could remember?

Yes, Loid did want Yor.

But as his wife and as her husband…?

It would be so easy if Yor wanted him. That Loid could deal with.

Plenty of his previous targets of seduction were single and looking or married but still willing to mingle on the sly. Had Yor been all for this plan, this marriage, then Loid would have been happy to play the role of the loving husband as he was already happy to play the role of the doting father to Anya.

But as he looked at Yor, she noticed his gaze and turned away. Even without all his years of spy training and people reading skills, even without her speaking her objections out loud and concerns loud, Loid could tell:

She did not want to marry him. She could not marry him. She was refusing this plan, for reasons Loid suspected were almost identical to the root of his objections:

“I can’t be her husband, Anya,” Loid said, looking down. “Ms. Briar deserves better than someone like me.”

Anya’s face fell immediately, he saw the look of confusion and betrayal on her face yet again and this time, he could not look and had to turn away.

“I’m afraid if you both refuse, Ms. Briar will get decades of jail time or a lifetime of forced servitude to Lord Colwyn, Mr. Forger,” Ibroix said. “It's only thanks to the generations of sailors and upstanding citizens who've wanted to make honest folk out of pirates, land-bound, and other morally-questionable individuals that this option is even available to us. We have little other legal precedents in our favor, and they are leagues more complicated and expensive than this."

Loid wasn’t looking, but he could easily imagine the disappointment on his face.

“I admire both of your justifications for refusing, but perhaps this is one time where your personal convictions and morality must be bent or put aside in the face of cruel reality.

"Ms. Briar: as much as I would love to completely trust in the Port Illyrian justice system and what good there is in Lord Colwyn, someone of your status, history, and skill is especially vulnerable to falling through the cracks or intentionally being pulled into the corruption and criminal underbelly.

“Perhaps your being a past member of a criminal organization is a question that may forever be left unanswered, but I do not doubt that many will be looking to force you into their ranks. I do not even wish to think of what methods they will resort to, especially with young Anya present, but perhaps a marriage of convenience will be your best option.

“We here at Reinesburg already know or will know of your situation, none of us will judge or shun you for it. We are a place, literally and figuratively, where what washes downstream from Port Illyria ends up before it is lost in the wilderness. Even with so many faithful of Illumina here, we would not hold it against you for marrying out of pragmatism and desperation.

"You will become a citizen of our town, you will be protected, and you will be given a home, especially because you have already proven that you care and protect our home even before you had the obligation to do so.”

"And you, Mr. Forger," Ibroix said. "I do not know what circumstances you lost your wife and your daughter's mother. I do not know what circumstances and tragedy forced you to flee your home country with your child and nothing to your name but the clothes on your backs and the knowledge and skills you have accrued. I cannot even begin to fathom what sort of injustices have happened to both of you or what you have been forced to do.

“But now, though I hate to ask it, I implore your aid in helping prevent another injustice once more. Especially since it is not only Ms. Briar who will benefit,” Ibroix said.

Loid checked, Ibroix was looking at Anya, who quickly turned her gaze to Loid.

Loid looked away and around them.

Gazyl was fidgeting, unable to sit still or say anything. He saw Loid, frowned, shrugged, and looked apologetic.

Now that her tears had stopped and though her eyes were red, Aleina was quietly sitting with a professional, expressionless face. She noticed Loid, she opened her mouth and looked troubled, before she had second thoughts and wordlessly told him,

“I’m sorry, you’re on your own.”

Loid looked back at Anya, at her desperately pleading with all the hope and determination in that little body of hers, compelling Loid to do what she thought was the right thing—what could very well be the right thing, if he thought of this as a problem of a bad and a worse option for all of them, Yor especially.

And as a former spy, this was certainly a lot more palatable than many of the tough calls he’d had to make.

And then, Loid looked at the person at the center of this perfect storm of misfortune, tragedies, and circumstances beyond her control: Yor.

Any port would do in a calamity like this. He could reach in and save her. He wanted to reach in and save her, but if this lifeline was to be marriage… Loid was going to make sure that she knew what sort of person she was tying her fate to for the immediate future, perhaps even for the rest of their lives.

“Mayor Ibroix? Ms. Briar?” Loid asked, looking at them in turn. “If we may please leave the room for a while, so I can speak to Ms. Briar privately? There’s much I have to say to her and I don’t think the others need to hear it.”

Ibroix nodded. “Understandable. Should Ms. Briar agree, you may use the hall outside while we stay here. We’re the only ones on this floor right now and I doubt anyone will be unexpectedly rushing up to my office, short of an emergency that threatens the entire town at this very moment.”

“Thank you, Mayor,” Loid said before he turned to Yor. “Ms. Briar?”

Yor nodded. “I’m ready to listen, Mr. Forger. Let’s go.”

"Thank you for your consideration," Loid said as he got up off the couch and then turned to Anya. "Anya, stay here while Papa talks to Ms. Briar outside."

“Mmn...” Anya grumbled, upset.

Loid needed no guesses to figure out why.

But, if Yor refused to marry him after he made this confession, then Loid was just going to have to use this as a great opportunity to teach Anya about disappointment and respecting other people’s consent and opinions.

They headed outside, and Loid closed the door behind them, Loid felt the magical mechanisms on the door reactivating.

The door was locked again. No one was sneaking out to peek at their conversation or try to hear it better without making it extremely obvious, especially to a magia like him. And Loid could detect no bugs, no other presences in the hall outside of him and Yor.

Ibroix was right: they really were alone here outside, no other faces but the silent portraits of the heads of House Colwyn.

“You wanted to tell me something, Mr. Forger?” Yor asked as she turned around to look at him.

“Not this close to the door," Loid said, shaking his head. "Near the elevator, please. We can sit there, too," he said, glancing at the small table and chairs that were conveniently beside it.

“Okay,” Yor said. “Lead the way.”

The portraits earlier had just been a small detail for Loid to note, about House Colwyn and the design of the town hall. Now it almost felt like they were alive, looking at Loid and judging him, daring him to deny their latest successor an incredible asset in Yor, no matter how questionable and gray the acquisition was both legally and morally.

They reached the table beside the elevator, Loid pulled out Yor’s chair for her as was polite.

“Thank you,” Yor said quietly.

She was tense. Nervous. Dreading. Braced, looking down and away from Loid with one hand clutching her other arm and her ears kept moving to turn towards Loid. It seems like she was fearing the worst or perhaps just bracing herself for what she thought was going to be a rejection.

Loid sat down, took a deep breath to compose himself and refine the speech he’d thought up, then said: “Ms. Briar?”

Yor looked up, eyes wide and nervous, almost frightened. Her bunny ears were upright and turning to Loid as if he needed any more obvious signs about Yor’s emotions.

She looked so vulnerable.

So innocent, despite her capacity for intense bloodshed and violence.

Loid wouldn’t go so far as to call her child-like, but she did have the air of a naive young woman.

Someone who was denied the opportunity or the background for healthy social development. Perhaps it was also lingering trauma, from the sudden and dramatic murder of her brother and then having been kidnapped then smuggled to a faraway land, stolen from all that was familiar to her along with her memories of them. It could have also been both, in the way that misery loved company and one tragedy begets another.

And Loid just could not lie to his woman, as he had done before to countless others in his previous life. So, for the first time, he said the truth:

“I am a liar, Ms. Briar.”

Yor blinked before she was silent, probably at a loss of what to say.

“At the behest of my former employer or for my selfish, I have lied to countless women like you," Loid continued. "I approached them under false pretenses, I charmed them, I seduced them, I made promises I never intended to keep. And when it was time for me to leave them, I abandoned them like they were simply tools that were no longer useful to me, and not people with hearts, ones they had willingly given me and I had cruelly destroyed without second thoughts.

“I do not wish to be a liar. Not anymore, not after everything that’s happened, not while Anya is with me and my reason for living is more upfront than ever.

“So, if you can tolerate the fact that I am a man built by lies and who constantly made more of them, then I will marry you.

“If you only wish for this union to keep you out of jail, if you just want us to be friendly strangers otherwise, I will agree to that. You can find someone else you can love, someone you want to give your heart to, and that you would want to be married to without the threat of losing your freedom.

“And, if you wish for this union to be a true marriage, I swear I will try my best to be a good husband, without deception, without ulterior motives, and with genuine effort and emotion. All I ask is that I am not forced to ignore or neglect Anya to satisfy you.

“So, what do you say?” Loid asked, looking at Yor.

She was teary-eyed. She had stopped clutching her arm and was instead holding her hands in front of her chest. Shocked in the positive or negative sense, Loid couldn’t tell nor did he want to predict it and manipulate her accordingly.

He wasn’t trying to get Yor to act the way he wanted, as a spy would.

He was going to wait for what Yor was going to say, what she wanted to say because he was going to respect her decision, as a good man would.

“Oh, Mr. Forger...” Yor said, sounding on the verge of tears. “If you can tolerate having a wife who only knows how to clean and is missing most of her memories, too...” she looked down for a moment, “I’ll be happy to marry you, and if you want to find someone else to marry for love, you can!”

“And...” she blushed and looked aside, “if you want me to be your real wife, I’ll try to be a good one to you and a good mother to Anya, as well.”

She turned slightly to look at Loid and smiled, Loid found himself smiling, too.

“That’s more than good enough for me,” Loid said. “And probably more than enough for Anya, too.”

Yor nodded—hesitant, but hopeful.

“Shall we go back and tell them the news?” Loid said, gesturing back to Ibroix’s office.

“Yes, let’s. I think they might already suspect something, though,” Yor said. “I can hear Gazyl and Anya whispering to each other through the wall, but if I can’t understand them from here they probably can’t understand us, either.”

Loid allowed himself a chuckle. “Let’s not keep them in suspense any longer, then,” he said as he stood up and offered his hand. “Shall we, Ms. Bri—I mean, Yor?”

“Yes, Mr. For—I mean, Loid,” Yor said as she stood up as well and took it.

Loid gently wrapped his fingers around Yor’s hand, he could feel her very hesitantly doing the same in turn.

It was probably not because she didn’t want to hold Loid’s hand, but of the extremely tightly-packed coils of muscle fiber struggle that Loid could feel straining and struggling to keep from exerting the full force they were capable of.

“I’m sorry,” Yor whispered. “Do you want me to stop holding your hand? I remember I crushed my little brother Yuri’s hand all the time when we were kids.”

“No, I think we should at least be able to do this,” Loid said. “Besides: I’m certain Vahlen or someone else in town can piece my bones back together if you do,” he said, half-joking.

"If you say so," Yor said.

As they walked back to Ibroix’s office, Loid thought that the fur on Yor’s hand felt good on his skin, warm and soft.

Chapter Text

Loid knocked on the door with his free hand, Ibroix quickly opened it again. As he and Yor stepped in, it was quickly apparent that Anya and Gazyl had been trying to eavesdrop on their conversation earlier.

They were in close, but not quite the same, positions on their respective couches, like they’d hurriedly rushed back to it once they heard their conversation had stopped, likely because both of them walked nearly to completely silently.

They both were doing a poor job of hiding how eager they were to hear what had happened, Anya especially so, though Gazyl was far from a competent actor himself.

And most damning of all, there was Aleina’s completely unamused expression as she looked at Gazyl and Anya, then turned to Loid and Yor to wordlessly apologize.

Perhaps this is what Gazyl meant, by both he and Aleina preferring to call her a “big sister.” If Loid didn’t know Aleina’s age, he would have strongly suspected they’d at least been neighbors who grew up together from early childhood.

But, dealing with Anya’s childish mischief and Gazyl encouraging it would have to wait for another time: Loid had much more important business to attend to.

“Welcome back, Mr. Forger, Ms. Briar!” Ibroix said, still parked where he was before. “I take it from those looks on your faces and that you’re holding hands means you’ve agreed to marry?”

“Yes, Mayor Ibroix,” Loid said, nodding.

Anya gasped. “So Ms. Yor’s going to be Anya’s Mama now?!” she cried.

“Yes, Anya,” Yor said, turning to her and giving an embarrassed smile. "I'm going to be your new Mama now.”

“Yay!” Anya cried, throwing her hands up. She took a few moments to climb off the couch and land safely on her feet before she hurried over to Yor and clutched her leg, this time. “Anya has a new Mama!”

Yor blushed as she smiled and looked down at Anya. “I’ll try to be a good one to you, I promise.”

“Mmn!” Anya hummed, looking pleased as she pressed her face against Yor’s ankle. “Mama’s fur is so nice and soft...”

“Anya, please,” Yor said, trying to suppress a giggle. “Not right now, we can do this later.”

“Your new Mama has a point, child,” Ibroix said as he rolled over to a cabinet full of documents. “Your parents still have to sign the marriage license, so it is both a legal marriage in Port Illyria’s eyes and we have proof to show Lord Colwyn and anyone else who’ll try to get their clutches on her.”

“Gazyl, Aleina," Ibroix said as stood up off his chair and pulled out a drawer, "I trust you two will be acting as the witnesses we require and will vouch for our new couple should questions arise about the legitimacy of their marriage?"

“Of course, Mayor Ibroix," Aleina said, pressing a hand to her chest. "In the short time he's been with us, Mr. Forger has shown himself to be incredibly reliable, willing to help protect the town, and is an excellent father to his daughter. I'm certain he's going to be a great husband to Ms. Briar, too, regardless of the circumstances of their choice to marry."

“Yeah, you can count on me to vouch for Yor, too," Gazyl said. "As Al said, I'm not about to leave a sister behind after everything we've been through these past six weeks."

“Even though you wanted to take a nap and I had to guilt you to coming here?” Aleina asked.

“Hey!” Gazyl snapped back, ears pulling back and fangs bared. “If I had taken that nap, you know you could have just woken me up, told me what was going on, and then I’d be here so quick, you’d think the Seafood Festival started early and moved to Reinesburg!”

Ibroix chuckled as he returned to his desk with several papers. “I suppose the important thing here is we’ve all been brought here when we most needed each other as if the winds of fate willed it themselves. Now, while I get this dated and filled all the blanks for me, I should discuss what conditions guarantee Ms. Briar staying a free woman...”

It was all quite simple, really.

Once Yor was almost certainly charged with illegal poison manufacturing, Loid was agreeing that he would pay the fine, post bail for her as her now-husband, and guarantee that Yor would not commit any more serious crimes afterward, such as 1^st-degree murder, treason against the Kingdom of Lumania, or financial fraud exceeding a certain threshold of "objective loss and damages

," generally somewhere around the 500,000 fioran mark and above.

The fine and bail would be easily shouldered by using a chunk of Ullgar’s bounty money, with plenty left to spare afterward.

“Are you still sure about this, Loid?” Yor asked as they signed all the paperwork. “We did agree all that money was supposed to go to you.”

“Yes, and this is where I’m choosing to spend it: on your freedom Yor,” Loid said. “I can always work to get that money back somehow but I don’t think I could do anything to get you back if I lose you now.”

“Ah,” Yor said, blushing and putting her hands to her face.

“Papa and Mama are flirting,” Anya said.

“Yeah, and Forger’s being smooth as butter,” Gazyl said, amused.

“Yes, I suppose we are,” Loid said, blushing as well but looking less embarrassed by it. “I can stop if it’s making you uncomfortable, Yor.”

“Oh, no, don’t stop! I like it!” Yor said, shaking her head and smiling. “But I don’t think I’ve ever heard a man say something like that to me before, so, um, I’m sorry if react strangely to it.”

Loid nodded.

How much romantic experience had Yor had, prior to getting married just now? Even if she had lost most of her memories and possibly permanently, Loid knew their effects still lingered and persisted.

Loid made a note to be gentle, understanding, and slow-paced with Yor. It was like handling the innocent young women he had been involved with, only this time, with genuine emotion and without the intent to manipulate her for ulterior motives and eventually leave her.

(I’m going to be the perfect lover once more,) Loid thought to himself. (Even if it’s only for Yor and Anya’s sake.)

Ibroix and Aleina started double-checking the finished documents for even the tiniest clerical error or loophole that Ibroix or the lawyers of Port Illyria could take advantage of. Everyone else sat back down on the couches, Gazyl now alone on one while the Forger Family sat together on another.

Anya couldn’t have looked happier being sandwiched between her parents, humming and smiling to herself.

Loid looked on and couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth, happiness, and pride inside him.

This is what he had fought for but tragically forgotten. This was what all of the efforts of the past two days were going towards. And this is what he was going to keep working and living for, for however long this second chance of life was going to be, because he was not going to let the tragedy of Westalia and Ostania repeat itself in this world or at the very least, make another orphan of war out of Anya.

And then he looked up and saw Yor looking much the same and probably feeling the same as Loid was.

(Maybe it’s a bit too early to tell, but this marriage may be a lot better than I thought it would be,) Loid thought to himself.

Ibroix and Aleina finished double-checking the documents, all of them were quickly copied and prepared to be sent to Port Illyria ASAP.

“I should mention that while the Court of Port Illyria will accept your application form as evidence of your marriage, it’ll take a few days before we have a marriage certificate that will serve as permanent proof,” Ibroix said. “However, I can assure you that the civil registry will have no reason to delay your union nor can Lord Colwyn or anyone else try to drum up false reasons without making their ulterior motive painfully obvious.”

“So Yor’s safe?” Loid asked.

“Yes, she’s safe,” Ibroix said, nodding and smiling.

Yor sighed and visibly relaxed her shoulders. “Oh, that’s such a relief! Thank you for doing this again, Loid,” she said as she turned to him and beamed. “I promise, I won’t make you regret this! I’ll be a great wife!”

“Don’t feel compelled to put in the effort, Yor,” Loid said. “I don’t want you exhausting yourself and end up resenting me and this marriage as a result. All I really need to do is all I’ve mentioned before.”

“But I want to,” Yor said. She looked aside and idly brushed one of her black locks as she said, “Even with my missing memory, I’m certain I never intended to be married or had anyone I wanted to. But, now that I am, I’m glad and grateful it’s someone selfless, upright, and kind like you, Loid.”

Loid coughed unconsciously. “Thank you, Yor.”

“Sorry to interrupt your moment,” Ibroix said, “but there’s still more we can do to help your situation, to prevent Lord Colwyn trying to claim that this was only a marriage of convenience and trying to file an objection, terribly unlikely as that is to work.”

“I’m listening,” Loid said, turning back to Ibroix with his “on the job” expression.

“Me too,” Yor said, looking like she was on the hunt as well.

“Don’t look so serious, you two!” Ibroix said, laughing. “We’re just planning to have a public announcement of your marriage during tonight’s feast celebrating Ullgar’s demise. Maybe a short ceremony, too.”

“Oh!” Yor said, her expression going back to normal. “I don’t mind. I think it’d be kind of nice, actually.”

“Neither do I,” Loid said. “What are the wedding ceremonies like here in Reinesburg and Port Illyria?”

“The Illuminian Lamp Lighting is the standard here regardless of faith,” Ibroix said, “but it is your wedding, so we can make allowances for almost any sort of ceremony that's also widely practiced here."

“What are those, out of curiosity?” Loid asked.

“Well, one that you could use tonight is a warbeast classic: hunting a monster as a couple and using part of it as a burnt offering to the spirits and the ancestors,” Gazyl butt-in. “The University won’t mind if we take a small, unimportant piece out of Ullgar, especially since there’s not much left worth harvesting from him with how much he’s rotted away.”

"Since Mrs. Polly is also a worshiper of Granhelia like me, you could also hold a Unity Ceremony," Aleina said. "Since the town's already going to cook a feast, we could just ask for some spare ingredients to make the offering while Ibroix and I can both officiate."

Then, Aleina paused, looked down, and blushed, muttering, “Wait, no, we’ll probably run into problems with that part of the ceremony, never mind, it’s too much of a commitment...”

“What happens then?” Yor asked.

“I wouldn’t want to say it out loud with Anya here,” Aleina said, glancing at her.

Anya looked upset and seemed to intensely focus on Aleina for a moment before she just looked puzzled then even more bothered than before.

“There’s also the traditional Solaian wedding, but I’m afraid we can’t do that since you’ve already signed the contract,” Ibroix said. “It’s supposed to be done during the ceremony, but then again, I don’t think we have the time nor the desire to draw up the detailed list of terms that usually involves.

“And with all this talk of our culture’s weddings, what were your country’s like, Mr. Forger?” Ibroix asked.

“My country usually had the couple exchanging vows then rings, overseen by religious leaders like a priest or civil servants like you and Captain Aleina are," Loid said. "The celebrations around them were oftentimes incredibly grand along with specially-tailored clothes for the occasion, but if Yor doesn't mind, I'd like to skip all that."

“I would, too,” Yor said. “I don’t feel comfortable with you spending any more money on me than you already are. I don’t know how much 1,150,000 fiorans is worth but it seems like a lot.”

“It would be 2/3rds of the way to buying a house in Port Illyria, albeit on the smaller end and far from its most prestigious districts,” Ibroix said.

“And believe me, most everyone in the city is forced to rent a place or buy a house somewhere else like here in Reinseburg, because it's so crazy expensive to live in Port Illyria," Gazyl said. "Owning land there is nearly impossible if you or your family didn't already own land, to begin with, were crazy rich independent of land, or both, like the Blackbell Family that made Forger’s weapons.”

“Okay, it is a lot, then,” Yor said, nodding. “I’d definitely like to skip the ceremony now.”

“I think we should at least spring for a cake, though,” Loid said.

“There’s cake?!” Anya cried, suddenly perking up.

“It's not strictly part of the wedding, but almost every wedding I've been to there has made it a point of having one," Loid said.

“That I would like," Yor said, smiling. "Unless it's supposed to be a really expensive cake that costs almost as much as a house, too…?" she said, looking concerned.

“It won’t be, I plan to have a simple one both for the price and because I don’t think the bakers would have the time to get it done, even if they started right this instant,” Loid said.

“Then let’s have a cake,” Yor said, nodding.

“Make it have peanuts!” Anya cried.

Loid chuckled. “It’ll have peanuts. Though I have to warn you: the couple getting married has to share the first slice before anyone else gets a piece.”

“Anya can wait! Anya will be a good girl then for cake!” Anya said.

“We’ll try not to make you wait too much, Anya,” Yor said, smiling.

“Okay, Mama!” Anya said.

Yor paused for a moment before she recovered and looked quite happy, her ears perking up.

Loid admired the exchange for a moment before he turned back to Ibroix and said, “Moving on… I suppose if there’s not much anymore we need to discuss, I think we should be heading out to go order that cake. Does Savanwood Bakery make them?”

“They do,” Gazyl said. “If anything goes in an oven or is supposed to be cooked over flames, they already make it or can be asked to.”

“Perfect,” Loid said. “If you could tell me if there’s a jeweler in town that I can buy wedding rings from, too, that would be appreciated.”

"I would advise you to save yourself some money and get something with more sentimental value, Mr. Forger,” Ibroix said. “I have the expertise to make them and we already have the materials right here,” he continued as he looked at Yor’s leg.

They all traced his line of sight and found the tracking device still on Yor’s ankle.

Aleina sighed, turned back to Ibroix, and said, “So long as we don’t recycle the tracker itself and turn its magic gems into decorative jewels, Mayor Ibroix, I’ll allow it.”

“I’ll keep myself to just the metal, then,” Ibroix said, smiling. “Now, if you’ll please grab it for me, Aleina?”

“Right away,” Aleina said, walking over to Yor.

Yor lifted the leg with the tracker, Loid watched as Aleina touched it, the device’s glow faded, and then the metal cuff opened up with a quiet “ka-clink!” Then, Aleina cleanly separated snapped the tracker from the cuff, pocketed the former, then carried the latter to Ibroix.

The Forgers all watched as Ibroix’s gnarled, wrinkled hands glowed and in less than a minute, it turned from one metal cuff to two shiny, smooth, polished metal rings and a lump of leftover metal.

If Loid hadn’t watched it happen right before his eyes, he would have figured this was just mundane sleight of hand.

“Please, come over and see how they fit,” Ibroix said, holding up both rings to the sunlight, they both shined. “I’d hate to bring these out later tonight then realize one or the both of them don’t fit on the fingers they’re supposed to go on.”

“That was cool!” Anya cried as she hopped off the couch ahead of her parents. “Where did Grandpa Ibroix learn to do that!?”

Ibroix laughed. “Oh nowhere special, child; every young majin studying and training in Qiel’solai needs to learn and become competent in at least one form of art before they are allowed to graduate from being mere initiates. I was already intent on studying metalworking, so jewelry was a natural extension of that.”

“Is that common in magia training here in Port Illyria?” Loid asked as they arrived before Ibroix’s desk.

“Only if you choose to specifically enroll Anya in a school that follows the Solaian curriculum, or she apprentices herself to a mentor who adheres to the same standards,” Ibroix said. “Lumanian academies only make the Three Pillars—arcane theory, magical technology, and combat magic—the mandatory subjects. Everything else like creative, medical, or taming magics are relegated to electives.

“Now, your hands?” Ibroix asked, looking at Loid and Yor in turn.

They held out one each, Ibroix’s wrinkle-filled brow furrowed even deeper as he carefully slid the rings on their ring fingers one at a time. And when both slid on and off without issue, he relaxed and smiled.

“Ahaha, it seems my eyes and my hands have yet to completely fail me,” Ibroix said, looking proud. “Were there any issues I could not sense?”

“No, none at all,” Loid said, shaking his head. “The craftsmanship was immaculate.”

“Yes, it fits perfectly," Yor said. "You're very skilled, Mayor Ibroix."

“Thank you!” Ibroix said, bowing slightly. “Now, would you two like to rehearse exchanging vows and rings or would you like to just wait for tonight?”

Loid and Yor looked at each other.

“No, that’s--” “I don’t think--”

Loid and Yor both turned to Mayor Ibroix then stopped simultaneously as well.

Ibroix suppressed a laugh while Gazyl snorted.

“It’s a very simple thing to do,” Loid said, blushing and looking away now. “It’s not something that needs rehearsal, I’d think.”

Yor quietly nodded in agreement.

“We’ll wait till tonight, then, I’ll keep these rings safe,” Ibroix said. Then, he opened one of his drawers and pulled something out. “And in the meanwhile, you can leave with this.”

Thunk.

Loid looked and saw a large bag of coins, mostly silver and copper, some gold, and one with what looked like a magic crystal embedded in its center.

"5,000 fiorans, a gift from me to spend however you please," Ibroix said, smiling. “Just don’t forget to leave enough for your wedding cake. Try to get a big one to share, though—you’ll make more friends among the townsfolk that way.”

Loid said they would, they thanked Ibroix, and then left his office with Gazyl and Aleina.

As they headed down the stairs instead of the elevator at Ayna’s request, Loid took the time to quietly wonder how he was going to explain to Mrs. Paladia that he had married Yor, and worried about the state of that 2 ^nd guest room in the attic.

Anya was definitely going to need her a room to herself and now , if Yor happened to want Loid to fulfill that aspect of his husbandly duties.

Chapter Text

They exited the town hall and were back on another ferry, this time headed for the town square where Savanwood Bakery and most of the other popular and/or essential businesses of Reinesburg were built.

They were the only ones aboard aside from the ferryman, which made it easy to discuss their public wedding announcement later tonight, alongside how they were going to talk about the circumstances behind said marriage.

“For starters,” Gazyl said, “I think we should definitely skip the part about 'you two were forced into it because otherwise, Yor was going to jail or Lord Colwyn's going to try and make her his slave, basically.'"

“As much as I don’t want to encourage lying…” Loid said, glancing at Anya sitting between him and Yor, “I think we should probably do a bit of it by omission, at least for now.

“We can’t possibly hide the fact that Yor’s going to be arrested by the city guard when they arrive here and take her to Port Illyria to be charged for such a serious offense. There’s also the chance that someone may or may have already found and spread the information around without our knowledge, so we should err on the side of choosing not to say something than trying to cover it up.

“Yor? Your opinion?” Loid asked as he turned to her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can offer anything useful,” Yor said as she raised her palms. “I don’t think I’ll be very good at lying. And you seem to be really good at that, Loid! Um, no offense.”

“None taken,” Loid said.

“So, are going to use the ‘We fell in love while we hunted down a dangerous monster together and killed it.’ story?” Gazyl asked. “It’s a classic, no one’s going to question it, and we can involve Anya a lot more in the speech, too.”

“No, I don't think we should," Loid said, shaking his head. "It feels a bit disingenuous since my feelings towards Yor are… not quite what I'd genuinely call 'love', especially that sort of intense, passionate love that story implies."

Thankfully, she did not look the slightest bit offended or hurt. Instead, she nodded in agreement.

“Anya thinks Papa and Mama already love each other, though,” Anya piped up.

“No, love’s a lot more complex than that, especially romantic love between adults, Anya,” Loid said. “There’s so many more factors, experiences, and emotions you don’t even know about or can know about since you’re so young, and that I can’t really explain in words, either.”

“It’s a very different sort of love from the one I had for my little brother, Yuri, and the one you have for your Papa, Anya,” Yor said. “I don’t think I can say for sure I’m in love with Loid, either, especially since we’ve only known each other less than a day.”

“This is real life, not a fairy tale where people just fall madly, genuinely in love at a glance,” Loid finished.

“But Papa and Mama can be in love like that?” Anya asked.

Yor and Loid stopped and looked at each other once more.

“I mean...” Loid started.

If Yor could still accept Loid being a liar once he chose to reveal the full extent of how much of a liar he was…

If Yor could choose to still be with a father and daughter who were only brought together by circumstance and convenience, as this marriage was…

If Loid could ever drop enough of his ironclad walls, convince her about his being from another world without making it seem like he was seriously mentally ill or trying to make a fool of her, tell her about the past life he’d buried and left behind in the smoking rubble of Berlint…

“I could,” Loid said, after a moment’s hesitation. “Yor is a very lovely woman, attractive, kind, accepting, trustworthy, highly-skilled in combat, and clearly excellent with kids. I don’t think there would be very many people out there that couldn’t or wouldn’t want to fall in love with someone like her or be married to her.”

Yor blushed and swooned, pressing her hands to her face. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you, Loid, thank you.”

“Thank you,” Loid said quietly before he discretely look away.

“Where’d you get this silver tongue of yours, anyway, Forger?” Gazyl asked. “Were you just a natural lady-killer or did you happen to learn it?”

“The latter,” Loid said. “It was part of my butler training, to help me entertain guests or extract information from people that would be reluctant to speak openly to my employer or other persons of note.”

“You make yourself sound more like a spy than a butler,” Aleina said.

“When you’re supposed to act as if you’re invisible until called or ideally never seen at all, it’s easy to overhear things you’re not supposed to,” Loid replied. “And some guests are too polite to voice their complaints about the dinner service directly to the host, so it works out for everyone.”

“Fair enough,” Aleina said. “What kind of house did you serve under?”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine you were working under a small barony like Colwyn’s family is,” Gazyl said.

“I was working under a marquis,” Loid said. “They were on the border of the nation that my country had been fighting while I was still a soldier, and their responsibility was to prevent another war from ever happening again by whatever means necessary.”

“Sounds like a rough place to work,” Gazyl said.

“It was," Loid said, not even bothering to hide the bitter expression on his face. "Always so much work that needed doing in my employer's territory and elsewhere in the nation, but too few people that could do it or weren't already busy addressing some other crisis. And as one of the best servants they had, the responsibility would more often than not fall onto me, before it devolved into an unsolvable, catastrophic crisis.”

“Okay, not rough, more like actual hell,” Gazyl said. “Did they have something over you or was the money just that good?”

“No, I firmly believed in the mission they had of keeping the fragile peace between our nation and our neighboring across the border,” Loid said, shaking his head. “Though, I suppose it all ended up being for naught in the end...” he continued, looking down.

Anya noticed, quietly hugged his arm, and suddenly looked sad, too.

“… Ah,” Gazyl said, blinking. “Sorry for asking.”

“No, it was inevitable this would come up eventually,” Loid said. “Just please: don’t ask any more about it. That was my and Anya’s life then, this is our life now. I want to make new, happier memories for the both of us—especially now that we’ve got someone new to make them with,” he said, looking towards Yor and smiling.

Yor had been quietly listening in until then, so her ears perked up as she looked surprised. Then, blushed again, smiled, and nodded too.

“If you do need someone to talk about with regards to losing your home, I’d be open to doing so with or without drinks, Mr. Forger,” Aleina said. “Since I’ve always made my living bouncing between law enforcement and military all over the world, I’ve lost more than a few homes and friends to tragic circumstances.”

“The offer is appreciated, Captain,” Loid said.

“Alright, this is getting way too dark for my liking,” Gazyl mumbled. “Got any weekend or day-off plans already, Forger?

“Since the city guard’s going to take Yor to Port Illyria sometime soon and our plan ensures she stays a free woman after her sentencing, it could be a good opportunity to finally go see what the city has to offer that you can’t get here in Reinesburg.”

“What do you recommend out of it, then?” Loid asked.

“I’m all for the live entertainment, muse groups especially,” Gazyl said, smiling. “Personal bias here, but my favorite’s a group of old friends from my teenage years who're still performing now that we're in our 20s, the Catalizzes.

“They’ve got a public show in a few weeks, and I’d appreciate it if you could buy a few tickets to be near the stage.”

Loid nodded. “Got a pitch? I’m not opposed to doing a favor for you but I’d like to know what makes them so special.”

Gazyl smiled. “They’re an all-mage trio and do all their magical effects and sound processing on stage live while they’re performing. No old hymns, no folk songs, no reliable classics you’ve heard hundreds of times with them!

“Their sound is all original and part of this new genre everyone’s starting to call ‘Arcanica Rock,’ for all the new magitech, processing, and instruments they’re using to produce it. All the 20-somethings and teens absolutely love it.

“I could sit here talking about how intense, entrancing, and awe-inspiring their performances are, especially when it’s in a battle arena—but I think it’ll be better if you just trust me on this and take the plunge, 500 fio for an hour’s worth of entertainment.

"Pretty great deal, if you know what kind of trash gets peddled for even more than that."

“What was that about performing in a battle arena?” Yor asked.

“The Catilizzes also double as arena fighters,” Gazyl replied. “They’re mostly in the spectacle fights, where you’re supposed to hit summons, targets, or break shields than try to knock each other out.” He smiled and continued, “Not to say the Catalizzes can’t do well in a regular match, but song-and-clashes are their specialty.”

“Does Gazyl fight in the arena, too?” Anya asked.

“Yeah, when work’s slow on the monster-hunting front, sometimes when the Catalizzes can’t find someone else to fill a 4^th slot or an extra substitution,” Gazyl said. “I’m Iron Rank in both places, so both pay about the same for the same amounts of work.

"But then, the arena won't let me butcher and eat the monsters after we're done killing them or foraging from the battlefield, so monster-hunting contracts it is for me if I can help it."

He paused then said, “You know, Forger, you and Yor could join them too or just sign up for the arena too, if you’d like. Since you’re definitely going to skip all the ‘faceless grunt duty’ at Stone and Copper Rank and start straight to Iron or even Silver, the fights you can get into will pay great.

“It could help you get back that 1 mil plus you spent on Yor’s bail in no time, plus a lot more in the future if you can get a patron or a sponsor deal.”

“I’d rather not,” Loid said, shaking his head. “I’m fine trying to make a living without the use of violence. I made a promise to myself that I’d leave all the bloodshed and dirty business in my previous life, I’m going to focus on raising my daughter now.”

“I feel the same," Yor said. "I don't think I'll want to hunt unless there's a monster that actively threatens the town, as Ullgar did then. Plus, I need to help take care of Anya."

“Anya could tag along like Anya did today!” Anya said.

“You’ll have to get into school and grow up plenty first, young lady!” Loid said. “I don’t want to spend so much time and energy worrying about keeping you safe.”

“What about the guard monster to protect Anya that Gazyl talked about?" Anya said.

“Later, once our lives stabilize and I’m certain we can afford to feed it and keep it for the long term,” Loid said. “It’ll be a living being with feelings, not just a toy or a weapon you can take back. So, ask me again after about 6 months to a year.”

Anya whined. “And when Anya’s old enough to join the Hunters?”

“That’ll be 6 years from now when you’re 10, at the earliest,” Loid said. “And if you’re going to join...” he started.

Anya looked worried and hopeful both.

“… At least make sure that you have me or Yor with you, or someone else like Gazyl if he’s still hunting by then,” Loid finished reluctantly.

“Yay!” Anya cried, throwing her arms up.

“Don’t worry, Forger!” Gazyl said proudly. “Unlike Aleina here, I’m only 21. Still got plenty of years of prime monster-hunting in me yet.”

“And once again, they might end a lot sooner than you thought if you don’t start reigning in that smart mouth of you more often,” Aleina grumbled.

“I think I’ll take my chances,” Gazyl said, shrugging. "Can't live life without a little risk-taking!"

Aleina groaned and shook her head, everyone else smiled or laughed quietly.

They were nearing the town square again. It was quieter and nearly empty now, with the lunch rush past them and most people going back to work, school, or their homes.

Still, it was far from “dead,” with the customers that remained intending to stay for a couple of hours of casual afternoon conversation, or slower-paced pursuits like painting the scenery, doing exercises similar to yoga, or reading a book at a cafe.

It reminded Loid of better times for himself before they were cruelly destroyed and stolen from him and so many others.

The ferry docked, and they disembarked with Loid carrying Anya across the gangplank once more. Though Loid wanted to get to Savanwood Bakery soon and ensure that cake would be in time, he wasn’t in so much of a rush that he couldn’t stop and enjoy the scenery for a moment.

“Reinesburg is such a nice town, isn’t it?” Loid said as they walked. “It’s so peaceful, quiet, and everyone is so friendly and kind even to strangers like me, Anya, and Yor all were.”

“It’s one of the reasons that I decided to move here nearly a century ago now and haven’t regretted it since,” Aleina said, smiling.

“Where did Captain Lady live before?” Anya asked as she was nestled in Loid’s arm.

“Lulurnton in Lulurun Valley,” Aleina replied. “I was enticed there by the large population of Granhelia worshipers like myself, and the promise of a quiet, peaceful countryside life among the fields, the forests, the lakes, and the mountains.”

She looked down and muttered, “Unfortunately, the place wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be, especially since I took on the position of a town guard lieutenant.

“What was the problem?” Anya asked.

“Ironically enough, not the monsters that constantly needed culling or hunting to protect or fuel the local industries," Aleina muttered. "As Port Illyria's biggest regional producer of food and just being such a large, fertile region, Lulurun Valley constantly has seasonal work year-in, year out. There's never a month where help isn’t wanted, so there’s constantly a flood of new faces all over the region.

“It wasn’t even the trouble that inevitably sprang up around them and the locals, it was just...” Aleina paused and looked down, “… too much for me, having to deal with meeting so many people, getting to know them, and then dealing with their being gone sooner than later.

“When I settle into a town, I like to try and put down roots but back then, it felt like I was the only tree among fields upon fields of wheat,” Aleina said, looking wistful.

Then, some passersby said hello and waved, Aleina smiled and waved back.

Much happier now, Aleina continued, “It’s much better for me here in Reinesburg, now that I know the faces I see around town will be here all year round and into the next. And whenever someone does move in or move out, it’ll be a major event rather than just business as usual.

“Speaking of which, you, Anya, and now Mrs. Forger have been one of the few new residents we’ve had this year, and especially ones that have caused as many waves,” Aleina said. “About the second closest I can think of is when Jack finally came back home.”

“Mr. Paladia moved out of town at some point?” Loid asked.

Aleina nodded. “He did as many young people always do: sign up for the Hunter’s Guild then start seeing the world and what more it has to offer beyond your hometown,” she said. “He may have done it when he was 21 rather than 10 or 15, but he still left and didn’t intend to come back until after 3 years, when he’d decided he’d seen enough.”

“There was also the fact that Jack’s long-time girlfriend dumped him, became a sailor, and disappeared abroad, rather than marry him and help take over the restaurant for Mrs. Polly, like everyone in town thought they would have,” Gazyl added.

Aleina sighed. “Yes, that was probably a reason, too. Just don’t mention any of that to Jack, or at least do so indelicately. He’s been struggling this past year what with everything that happened after his father died, no need to rub salt in the wound by reminding him he's still unmarried and without kids."

Loid nodded. But, he did make a note to investigate it later.

If Jack was still dealing with some unresolved grief and hadn’t moved on like Mrs. Polly seemed to have done, Loid felt obliged from a pragmatic and an ethical standpoint to help him process it. Perhaps Jack still had a home and a mother to come back to, but Loid could find some way to relate to losing a father in tragic circumstances.

Conversation stopped as Loid could see the Savanwood Bakery sign once more.

The “steam” rising from the “bread” was still going strong, despite the long lines and the constant stream of customers having already disappeared. The front door was open and out from it wafted the powerful aroma of freshly baked and baking bread, along with a whole host of other smells:

Sugar, garlic, onions, and too many spices and other aromatics for Loid to name or that he had yet to encounter until he came to this world.

It hadn’t been that long since lunch but Loid felt himself getting hungry again, especially as he detected the scent of whatever was in the bun Gazyl had revived him with. He was supposed to be here to order a cake but he supposed getting bread to take home to the Paladias and enjoy on the way home wouldn't hurt

Chapter Text

They stepped into Savanwood Bakery, Loid found shelves upon shelves of baked goods sitting in woven baskets or bamboo steamers, lined with cloth or parchment paper on their bottoms.

Some were familiar yeast bread, some East Asian style rice flour buns, some flatbread, and some were some pastries like cupcakes, pies, and pretzels. There weren't any places for customers to dine indoors, the only tables and chairs he could see were behind the counter and presumably for staff and the Savanwoods. They were empty except for one with crayons, children's toys, and papers with doodles that had been left behind.

The five of them walked between the shelves to the counter, Loid read some of the names and descriptions on the way.

“Rock’n Roll”

Baked with Granhelia’s Grains Flour, sink your teeth and chew through this, and then watch monsters just try and fail to sink their teeth into you! (Boosts Physical Defense only. Soak in water or other liquids for 10 minutes if too hard to eat. May come with a risk of breaking teeth.)

“Mystical Mantou”

Enjoy the magical, calming, harmonious flavors of Four Element Flower Tea brewed with mana-infused water! Become more aware of the energy of the universe, and feel them more easily converge into the source of your magical power: a happy stomach!

“Back-Up-On-Your-Feet! Pork Bun”

A pork bun filled with enough healing herbs, revival agents, and sweet-savory marinade to bring most anyone back from the brink or from death itself! Shove it into their mouth or down their throat then watch them get back up and ready for more!

“Is this what you fed me earlier, Gazyl?” Loid asked.

“The back-up buns? Yeah I did,” Gazyl said. “I always try to keep at least one on me at all times, because it’s a lot cheaper upfront than a Lumina’s Light and it still tastes great when it’s already going stale.”

“Better still if you get them while they’re still fresh, though!” a woman called out from the back of the bakery.

Everyone looked to the curtains separating the front and back of the store, a stocky monkey warbeast woman came out carrying several woven baskets or balancing stacks of bamboo steamers. She used the full length of her arms, holding them in her hands or hanging them off her prominent muscles, and even used her prehensile tail for carrying even more goods.

The sight of the golden-brown crusts, bright whites, and colorful dyes was already enticing, the scent of baked bread, sugar, and spices wafting from them started making Loid hungry all over again. And as he glanced at everyone else, clearly he wasn’t alone.

“Welcome!” the woman said as she put some of her load down on the counter before she bowed. “Shai Li Savanwood, at your service. And by your looks and Gazyl and the Captain being with you right now, I take it you must be Mr. Forger, his daughter Anya, and our mysterious new sister in town?” she asked, her eyes sparkling and her lips curling into a smile.

“We are,” Loid said, nodding as he picked up Anya so she could see over the counter.

“Hi!” Anya said, waving.

“Hello, and my name is Yor Briar—I mean, um, I suppose Yor Forger now,” Yor said, blushing and looking to the side for a moment.

“’Now’…?” Shai Li asked before she gasped, delighted. “You don’t mean you two were married, were you?!”

“We just signed the papers at the town hall less than an hour ago, and we were planning to announce it publicly at the victory feast later tonight,” Loid explained. “Do you think I can still order a large celebratory cake in time, one with lots of peanut toppings on it?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” Shai Li cried, nodding and giggly with excitement. “Please, just wait a moment—my husband, Shen, would love to meet you two and discuss the details directly with him!”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Loid said, though Shai Li was already eagerly rushing back behind the curtains.

“Darling!” they heard Shai Li call out through the wall. “Leave that to the boys, there’s a new warbeast-human couple in town and they want to buy a cake from us to celebrate their marriage!”

“Ooh!?” they heard a man roar. “Shan, Shin, take over!”

“Yes, Baba!” two young boys' voices said.

Loid felt the bakery rumbling all of a sudden. He wondered what could have caused that, then a giant emerged from the backroom, so titanic he had to duck and twist slightly to fit through the gap safely.

“Nice to meet you!” the man roared, beaming as he hurriedly wiped off his flour-coated, meaty hands on his apron. “Shen Savanwood!” he said as he thrust both hands at Yor and Loid each.

After a moment’s hesitation, they both took Shen’s hands—or rather, pressed their hands into the centers of his palms. Loid estimated even with both hands, he couldn’t grab completely grab even one side of Shen’s hand.

Then, Shen gripped firmly, swallowing up both their hands and a portion of their wrists within his fingers. He shook so vigorously that Loid nearly got pulled off his feet, Anya yelped and clutched onto him.

“Woah, sorry about that!” Shen cried, laughing sheepishly as he quickly let go, grabbed Loid’s shoulder, and stabilized him. “Got a little too excited back there, it’s been a while since there was a new couple like us moving into town!”

“No harm done, Mr. Savanwood,” Loid said, a bit dazed.

As he clutched the counter and waited for his vision to stabilize, he decided to examine Shen.

Whereas Shai Li was of below-average height but with incredibly densely packed and sculpted musculature, Shen was just gigantic.

He was human, so far as Loid could tell, somewhere around 2 meters tall give or take, and 3-4 times as wide and bulky as Loid was. Shen had a massive belly underneath his apron and shirt, but it was less slacking off on fitness in his early-to-mid-30s, and more that he was built like a powerlifter or perhaps a brick house.

He also did much more than bake bread and carry sacks of ingredients around, if all the old and new scars and burn marks on his arms were anything to go by.

“I heard you wanted a cake to celebrate your wedding?” Shen asked as he pulled things out of his apron pocket: a notepad and a giant novelty pencil that looked normal-size in his hand.

“Yes, we’d like a large one for sharing with our new neighbors during the party,” Loid said. “Since we’re new in town and the country in general, I’ll leave it to you to pick whatever flavor will please the most amount of people.”

“Chocolate ought to be good!” Shen said as he wrote it down. “Few people don’t like it and it’s not like those who don’t will be lacking for other options.”

“And make it have peanuts, too!” Anya said. “Lots of peanuts! Please.”

“Yes, make sure it pairs well with peanuts, too,” Loid said. “There doesn’t happen to be anyone allergic to that in town? Since it’s a public gathering, I don’t want to accidentally harm someone.”

“Don’t think so and haven’t heard of anyone having any condition like that in Reinesburg,” Shen said, shrugging. “If someone is, Sister Tali and the rest of the healers and doctors from the Temple will definitely be at the party, so you’re covered if someone finds out they’re allergic the hard way.”

“Thank you for that, that makes me feel better,” Loid said.

“Was that a big problem where you came from, Mr. Forger?” Shen asked.

“Yes, I suppose it just plagued my home country,” Loid said.

Shen nodded and continued to write. "Any other details?" he asked as he looked up. "If this is going to be part of an Illuminian lamp lighting ceremony, I can bring it out on a ceremonial stand where we can hang the lamp over it. It'll have a drip dish, too, so you won't have to worry about candle wax getting on the cake."

“No, it's not going to be part of a lamp lighting ceremony, we'll just be doing a very simple ceremony from my country and we've already got what we need for it," Loid said, shaking his head. "Also, I'd rather you just make it so the cake is simple, easy to slice, and then distribute to others. Considering that it's tonight and it's already the middle of the afternoon, I don't want to put too much work on you."

“Hah!” Shen scoffed, grinning. “For new clan-kin-in-law like you, if you wanted me to make it like one of those fancy multi-tiered cakes the nobles buy with all the flowers and the fondant, I’d find a way to make it and get it done before they even start setting up the tables in the town square!”

“Maybe just stick to what Mr. Forger said, Darling,” Shai Li said, touching one of Shen’s arms. “You don’t want to be so exhausted from overwork you can’t introduce them to our kids, do you?”

Shen gasped. “Of course!” he shouted, nodding furiously. “I especially need to introduce you to our youngest kids, the triplets! They’re all girls and wyrde like their mother, and just about Anya’s age, looks like!”

“Friends?” Anya asked, perking up.

“They’re sleeping right now upstairs, but they’d love to meet and play with you later!” Shai Li said. “And after tonight, we’d be happy to have you all over so Anya can play while we enjoy tea and chat, Mr. and Mrs. Forger.”

“That sounds lovely,” Yor hummed.

“Yes, I think so, too. Perhaps on the weekend?" Loid asked. "I expect to be busy settling in, starting work, and getting our finances in order, for the rest of this week."

“Weekend it is!" Shen said, nodding once. "Oh, and Mr. Forger? If you want to meet some other time and speak brother-to-brother, tell me! We may both just have married a warbeast, but that doesn't mean we can't rely on each other as clan-kin do! You can talk to me about anything!

"And if you need to have a private talk with another sister, Mrs. Forger, I'd be happy to do the same for you," Shai Li said.

“Thank you for the offers, Mr. and Mrs. Savanwood,” Loid said. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll just start browsing the shelves now and see if we’re going to be buying anything else aside from the cake,” he continued as he grabbed an empty basket from a stack nearby.

“Don’t be shy, Mr. Forger!” Shen said. “You get both the clan-kin and the clan-kin’s special day discounts!”

“Thank you again,” Loid said before he turned around and returned to the shelves.

They ended up leaving Savanwood Bakery with three bags worth of bread. Among which was a loaf of "Nutter Butter Bread" that Anya just "had to have!", their bestsellers, and recommendations from Gazyl and Aleina both.

Even without the discounts, the total would have been a little less than 1,000 and they left the Forgers plenty of Ibroix’s gift money still.

“We should stop at the General Store before we head back to the Paladias,” Gazyl said as he ate a “Tuna-ight, We Dine” pie. “Mmm, we can get drinks from there, their honeyberry tea is the best, no one else brews it like them.”

“You should also probably look into buying some daily necessities, like toothbrushes, fur care supplies for Mrs. Briar, writing supplies to keep track of your finances, and anything else you might need,” Aleina added. “It might not hurt to get Regeneration Tonic for you, Mr. Forger. You’ve been through a lot of intense action in just two days, and I can’t imagine what else you must have gone through in the time leading up to getting to this country; your body could probably use the boost to its healing factor.”

“Should I consider getting it from Nihls instead?” Loid asked. “I don’t mind an extra walk to get it cheaper in bulk.”

“No, one bottle ought to last you two weeks, at least?” Aleina said, concerned. “How often are you expecting to get seriously injured in the future?”

“Not very much, if I can help it,” Loid said. “Apologies, it seems my brain hasn’t quite recovered from the mindset of my previous job.”

“What in the world did they have you do?” Aleina asked.

Loid frowned and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’d rather not remember, honestly. Like I said earlier: that’s in the past and this is our present.”

Aleina nodded slowly before they headed over to the General Store.

They passed by a handful of customers still lounging around at the tables outside, either teenagers or middle-aged adults enjoying drinks alcoholic and not. And as Loid stepped in, he found out just what sorts of goods a small town in a world plagued by monsters would need.

There were the standards, preserved foods and pantry staples like canned meats and fish, preserved fruits and vegetables in jars, sacks and bags of flour, jars of salt and spices, and barrels full of items sold by the kilogram like peanuts and beans.

There were common perishables like cartons of eggs, bottles of milk, and a few crates full of fresh vegetables and fruits that were imported from Lulurun Valley, from the labels on the side.

Then, non-edible necessities goods like soap, toothpaste, tools like toothbrushes, sea sponges, and, Loid should not have been too surprised, fur de-shedding combs to be used by the customers rather than on their pets.

There were more local needs, such as hunting knives, rope, sacks, bags, boxes, and buckets for carrying items such as carrying potions and hunting supplies, foraged plants and fungi, or butchered pieces of monsters or smaller corpses. Next to those were fishing rods and line, fishing nets, bait, hooks, and tackles.

There were also materials specifically for making traps, simple buildings, or common gadgets out in the field, like wood planks already cut and bundled together, nails and glue, and metal components like gears or hinges, along with the tools to work with them if you didn’t have them already.

Most eye-catching of all, however, was a large, colorful section of the wall near the counter, dedicated to potions and other alchemicals.

Healing potions, mana potions, and Lumina’s Light crystals for reviving or stabilizing critically injured people were at the prime middle space, all on the same row and in that order.

Above that, Poison Antidote for all but the most advanced and dangerous poisons and toxins, Softening Tonic for curing petrification, Anti-Paralysis specifically for paralytic agents, then Pest Repellent and Monster Warding Powder, depending on the size and danger of what you wanted to keep away from you.

And beneath them on the lower rows, easily accessible by all, were various treatments for minor, non-lethal conditions, such as fatigue, muscle pain and soreness, common colds, and soothing cream for 1^st and 2 ^nd degree burns, along with the regeneration tonic Aleina mentioned.

Loid couldn’t help but notice the signboard nearby, featuring a smiling, cartoony, child-friendly depiction of Nihls’ face with his mask on, with the words saying, "Alchemicals For All Your Needs, Courtesy of Nihls’ Atelier!”

And next to that sign and behind the counter, there was a smiling, elderly-looking sheep warbeast sitting on a chair.

Deep wrinkles were on his face and the black fur of his body was streaked with huge swathes of gray, his eyes were hidden behind incredibly thick, opaque glass lenses. As he raised a hand to wave, Loid could see that they were gnarled and calloused from what had to be several decades worth of labor. The arm it was attached had also grown withered and weak with age, and possibly malnutrition, as well.

“Hello, Gazyl, Captain Aleina,” he said, his voice hoarse and weak.

“Hey, Old Man Vel,” Gazyl said, nodding.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Vishafell,” Aleina said.

“And hello to you three, as well," Vishafell said as he turned to the Forgers. "My name is Velros Vishafell. It's a pleasure to meet you all. Apologies for not offering my hand to; I'm afraid at my age, a firm grip and shake might snap my hand off like a twig," he said, chuckling.

At that moment, Loid was confident Nihls and Velros must have had some sort of long history together.

“Loid Forger,” Loid said, pressing his hand to his chest instead. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vishafell, and we can skip the handshake. I’m not sure if even Vahlen can sew it back on if it comes off.”

“Yor Forger,” Yor continued. “Likewise, though I’m worried I might end up accidentally taking your entire arm off.”

“Anya!” Anya cried as Loid picked her up again. “And Mr. Vel’s kinda weird like Mr. Nihls is, Anya doesn’t like that.”

While Loid looked shocked and embarrassed, Velros just laughed, clutching the counter and wheezing.

Velros took a deep breath, recovered, and said, “Ah, yes, my apologies for that. In that sense, I was a terrible influence towards the Young Master.”

“Young Master?” Loid asked.

"I used to be Nihls' butler, back when he was still a nobleman and we did not yet immigrate here to Lumania," Velros said. "But, that was decades ago, and I could smell the Savanwood’s bread before you entered the door. I take it you would like some drinks to go with them?"

“Hit us with that honeyberry tea, Old Man!” Gazyl said, grinning before he turned to Loid. “Hey, Loid, mind paying for us again?”

Aleina sighed. “You know, your constantly borrowing money from Mr. Forger is looking rather bad in light of your promising all of Ullgar’s bounty money to him.”

“That was Ullgar’s bounty money, this is Old Man Ibroix’s gift to him,” Gazyl said. “I’m not forcing him to spend it on us, aren’t I?”

“No need to argue, you two,” Loid said as he pulled out his coin purse again. “I’ll be happy to.”

“Can I get one more to go, too?” Gazyl said, pulling out his wooden drink container from inside his coat.

“May as well,” Loid said, shrugging, to Aleina’s mild dismay.

“5 bottles of honeyberry tea for here, 1 to go, then,” Velros said, taking Gazyl’s wooden bottle before he stood up from his chair with a grunt.

“You might want to browse the shelves or peruse our catalog for items we get shipped from elsewhere. These old bones are going to take a while to get you your tea,” he said, looking toward the kitchenette behind him.

“Is that what that machine is, then?” Loid asked looking at a metal device with a large wooden barrel atop it and several ceramic bottles nearby.

“Oh, yes,” Velros said as he hobbled over, favoring his right leg over the other. “The Young Master, Kass, and Jojo all collaborated to build that tea brewing machine for the store, so making, serving, and chilling our honeyberry tea would be much easier and more consistent. I’m afraid these hands are getting too old to make them like how I used to, and my son and his wife haven’t quite gotten it right, either.”

“Is there any particular reason you have them there in the back, away from your chair?” Loid asked. “This counter seems like it would have enough space to hold the machine and several bottles for filling without robbing too much space for regular business.”

“We did have that, before!” Velros said. “Unfortunately, some stranger decided to steal the machine right off the counter, underestimated how heavy it was, and ended up getting crushed underneath it. We joke that our honeyberry tea is to die for, and she proved it quite literally.”

“Did someone die in this store?” Anya asked, horrified.

“No, no, not at all!” Velros said, stopping to look back, just as disturbed. “She died on the way to the Temple,” he said, grinning with what few teeth he had remaining.

Anya was not amused. “Anya’s starting not to like Mr. Vel like Mr. Nihls, too.”

“Don’t fret, young lady!” Velros said. “My son or his wife are the ones manning the store most days. It’s only because they’re both off with the grandkids in Port Illyria to get everything we need for Ullgar’s victory feast that I’m back at the counter!

“They’d love to meet you all, by the way!” Velros added. “My youngest grandkids are close to or at Anya’s age, they can be playmates like they are with the Savanwoods’ kids.”

“Is Mr. Vel’s grandkids like Mr. Vel…?” Anya asked warily.

“Not at all!” Velros said as he started grabbing empty bottles. “They grew up to be nothing like me—and for that, I’m forever grateful...” he said, looking down as a shadow fell over him.

“What was that?” Anya asked.

“Nothing!” Velros said cheerfully. “We’re out of our Deal of the Day, but peruse our shelves and I’m sure you’ll find a wonderful bargain anyway!”

“We will, Mr. Vishafell,” Loid said. “Yor? Would you like to split up so you can get what you need?”

“I'd like it if we could stay together," Yor said. Then, sheepishly, she added, "I'm kind of worried I'd just get lost trying to do the shopping..."

“… Are you sure you didn’t rough it out in the wilds like I do or did your little brother just do that for both of you…?” Gazyl asked.

Chapter Text

They left the General Store with several bags of groceries and necessities, plus bottles of honeyberry tea and a few kilos of peanuts to replace all the ones that Anya had eaten so far from the Paladias’ stock. Signs and criers were starting to go around informing people about the coming festivities after sunset, and with businesses closing early or not planning to open tonight, Loid thought it was as good a time as any to finally get back to the Paladias' home.

He still hadn’t quite thought of a good way to explain this marriage of convenience to Mrs. Polly, but he decided not to worry too much about it: this wasn’t a mission and this identity wasn’t a cover he needed to protect at all costs.

This was simply who he was now, and if Loid Forger would stumble, be awkward, and lose respect from people he wanted to trust and do good by, then so be it.

As they stepped back through the double doors, they could smell things simmering and roasting in the kitchen while Mrs. Polly and Jack were poring over accounting books, pencils in their hands, and tense or bothered expressions on their faces.

“We’re back!” Loid said, carrying Anya in one arm as his other balanced some of the bags. “And we’ve got brought back good news, bread from the Savanwoods, and tea from the General Store.”

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Mrs. Polly said as she looked up, the frown on her face disappearing immediately. "Come on, Jack, let's go take a break," she said as she touched her son’s shoulder.

“Just let me finish the numbers first, Mother,” Jack muttered, still deep in concentration.

Mrs. Polly sighed. “If you really have to!” she said as she got went to join the others.

After the bags were put down and their contents mostly sorted out, Mrs. Polly asked, “Well? What’s the news? What’s going to happen to Ms. Briar?”

“She's going to remain a free woman because I've married her and will use part of the bounty money from Ullgar to pay the fine and post bail for her as her new husband," Loid said.

“It’s also Mrs. Forger now,” Yor admitted bashfully, her ears drooping slightly.

“Mhmm!” Anya said, nodding and beaming.

Mrs. Polly blinked, surprised, before the realization hit her and it looked like she was about to jump out of her seat in joy if it weren't for her age. "Well, isn't that just wonderful news?! Congratulations, you two will make such a lovely couple and you three a wonderful family!” she said, smacking her hands together and wiggling in her seat.

“Thank you, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said, blushing.

“Yes, thank you,” Yor said, turning even redder with her ears drooping more over her face as if to hide it.

“Anya’s already super happy to have a Mama again!” Anya said, beaming.

“Oh, I bet you are!” Mrs. Polly said, giggling and putting a hand over her mouth. “Gotta say, I'm glad you decided to do it today when everyone in town is already cooking up a storm for the feast tonight! Though, I am kinda sad that it's a little too late for me to go whole-hog to celebrate your wedding..."

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you don’t have to spend lavishly on us with gifts or a party, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said, holding up his hands. “I’m planning to be very frugal with the rest of that bounty money while I don’t have any income coming in.”

“And I can get what you’re saying, but there is just nothing like everyone gathering around a Lulurun Valley-style whole roasted pig at a party!” Mrs. Polly said before she sighed and looked lost in pleasant memories. “I still remember when Jojo and I got to share the ears at our wedding; nothing quite felt so romantic or tasted as delicious…!”

She shrugged, smiled, and said, “Oh well, maybe on your anniversary next year, someone’s birthday, or some other big event!

“Moving on, though: we're going to need to clean out the attic and get it back to a place where someone can sleep and live in, and soon! Little Anya can sleep with me tonight while you two have your first night as newlyweds, but you're going to need separate rooms moving forward!"

“I was just to ask," Loid said. "My apologies for forcing you to do it on such short notice."

“Oh, don’t you worry a thing about it, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Polly said, waving her hand. “Right now, we’ve got more than enough hands to give it the thorough job it deserves. Assuming I’m not mistaken?” said, looking at Aleina and Gazyl.

“I’d be glad to help clean the attic, Mrs. Polly,” Aleina said, smiling. Then, she turned to Gazyl, the smile disappeared as she flatly said, “Gazyl?”

“No need for the guilt trip, Al, I know I owe her for lunch and Forger for the bread and tea,” Gazyl said as he held an open bottle of honeyberry tea. “Just let me finish this and get my energy back up, I got the feeling I’ll be doing a lot of casting soon.”

“You can also count on me!” Yor said, beaming. “I’ve always been great at cleaning! And if there’s anything heavy that needs to be moved, I can do it.”

“Good to hear it!” Mrs. Polly said as she prepared to get up. “The biggest problem for me and Jack is that Jojo left behind so many boxes of stuff up there, even after all the ones we gave away!”

“What’s in them, out of curiosity?” Loid asked.

“Just Jojo’s old notes, blueprints, documents, and maybe a couple of devices, tools, and machine parts we missed or no one could find a use or a new home for,” Mrs. Polly said. “He always had a bright mind but he could never stick to any one idea for too long. So, he made a habit of writing down as much as he possibly could so he could easily pass it off to someone else once he got bored, which he always did at some point.

“I doubt you’ll find much of interest there, considering his University buddies already went through and taken everything that they thought could be a viable research project. Everything else, they told me, was just too expensive, too much work, or wouldn’t find the funding any time soon, considering the Research Board’s priorities then. I doubt much has changed in the past 8 months, too.”

Loid nodded.

He might take a look through Jojo’s notes just to get a better understanding of how this world’s technology worked and maybe referenced it if he decided to go into higher education, as magia seemed especially encouraged to. But he didn’t think that was high on the priorities.

They opened up the utility closet, got dressed in aprons and cloths to tie around hair and mouths, and armed themselves with mops, dusters, and buckets before heading upstairs.

Jack stayed downstairs to keep on crunching the numbers and watch for anything burning. "We want to at least pay you a minimum wage while you're helping us, so I'm figuring out where we’re going to get that money,” he explained.

Loid decided he’d have to figure out some way to improve the Paladias finances, once his family’s affairs were in order.

Mrs. Polly pulled down the stairs to the attic, Loid braced himself for the worst as he ascended them first and found…

Dust. Not a lot of it, but certainly a visible layer of gray on the floor, bare surfaces, and many more potentially lurking in spaces between the many boxes and forgotten corners and nooks.

Said boxes were mostly wooden crates and chests, neatly sealed and covered with cloth, stacked on the floor and going as high up as the rafters would let them, resting on top of what looked like a bed pushed against the far wall, or on top of a large work table with a large pegboard, wooden flaps on hinges, and folding metal arms.

Nothing smelled of mildew or mold, there were no signs of life like scurrying rats or bats that Loid could have easily detected, the light switch still worked, and it seemed there was no structural damage to speak of or problems that had been accidentally left to fester.

“Huh,” Gazyl said as he poked his head in after Loid. “This is a lot better than some of the forgotten places I’ve had to crawl into.”

“Same,” Loid said. “I can see the window, let’s clear a path to it, open it, and get some ventilation in here for the others to get to work.

“You got it,” Gazyl said before he held out his hand out. “Ready when you are.”

“Let’s do this,” Loid said, putting his hand over Gazyl’s palm, blue-green light emitted from both.

The stale air in the attic began to move once more. Weeks-old layers of dust started to break apart and fly up, the motes swirled around wildly in a miniature vortex before they got trapped in a swirling mass of water in its eye. Slowly moving together as one, Loid and Gazyl dragged their magical vacuum cleaner across the floor, busting as much dust as they could, before tossing the resulting slurry out the window and into the empty canal below.

Yor and Aleina moved in afterward, picking up the boxes, dusting them off, then carrying them out and downstairs, where Anya and Mrs. Polly would open them up and reorganize the contents with Mr. Chimera watching over them.

(“Mr. Chimera didn’t like Anya leaving Mr. Chimera here earlier,” Anya explained.)

Jojo was not nearly as disorganized as some scientists Loid had investigated, but he and the colleagues who’d gone through his things after his death did not pack the contents nearly efficiently as they could have. The contents of several half-filled boxes were quickly put into larger ones filled nearly to the brim with barely any wasted space.

It also incidentally gave Loid a glimpse into what Jojo's thought process must have been like, as he overheard Anya and Mrs. Polly talking about what they found.

“What’s this?” Anya asked.

“Oh, this was the Whirly Flyer!” Mrs. Polly replied. “Jojo was trying to build a flying machine that would be a lot smaller, lighter, and more convenient than the gliders and wingsuits most every other mage needed to use. This one was supposed to be small enough to fit in your hand and didn’t need a running start or jumping off a high place first.”

“Did it work?” Anya asked.

“No, Jojo almost gave himself wrist and elbow injuries just trying to spin the things fast enough to start, let alone get his feet off the ground for longer than a few seconds,” Mrs. Polly said. “I still remember him sitting outside in front of the house just whirling his arm in the air without much happening except getting him and both his arms tired.”

“And what was this?” Anya asked.

“Ooh, this was the Soothing Sleep Noises Machine!” Mrs. Polly said. “Yep, I remember this one, alright! Jojo collaborated with some other researchers at the University, trying to help people get to sleep, especially in Port Illyria. It can be a damn loud place to live in, even late at night, since moving people and goods never really stops there.

“They said they found out that if you make some other sounds, they’d block the bad sounds out and help people relax enough to sleep. Last I remember, they settled on the sound of waves on the beach.”

“So because people couldn’t sleep because it was too noisy, Mr. Jojo and Mr. Jojo’s friends made a machine that makes more noise?” Anya said. “That sounds weird.”

“Yeah, I thought as much, too," Mrs. Polly said, "but after Jojo handed the project over to them after he got bored, they made a finished product and then made a killing selling it to nobles and rich merchants. Then even sent us a fat check plus expensive chocolate, wine, and dry-aged beef, to thank Jojo for inventing the idea, and then getting it off the ground and walking for the rest of them."

“Huh,” Anya said. “And what’s this thing? It looks like the Sleep Noise Machine.”

“Oh, the Brain Tingles Machine!” Mrs. Polly said. “Yeah, this was what Jojo moved onto after he got bored of that project. This one didn’t get quite as successful, I’m afraid.”

“What happened?” Anya asked.

“The sound here was a lot weirder than waves on the beach,” Mrs. Polly said. “I can’t even describe it, it was something like lots of blowing, whispering, and scratching and rubbing noises. He said some people got some kind of good ‘brain tingles’ out of it, including him.”

“Anya thinks that sounds even weirder than the Sleep Noises Machine,” Anya said.

“Yeah, and it was too weird for a lot of other people, too," Mrs. Polly said. "He just couldn't find enough of them that liked it or had enough money to keep him working on it. Eventually, the University told him to scrap the project or risk losing his tenure and all the extra money that brought in.

“I remember cooking him a big ole batch of fried chicken with gravy and Sarsi Root tea on the side to cheer him up, he was so sad. He bounced back after a few days, though, like he always did, and with another new idea he was ready to work on.”

And about an hour later, the work was done.

The entire attic was cleaned up, the mattress and bed frame were still sturdy and pest-free, and there were far fewer boxes to stow somewhere else in the house. They still needed to find that place and dispose of all the empty ones, but now Anya had a room all to herself, with Mrs. Polly’s blessing to repaint and redecorate it to make it better suited for a young child, and plenty of room to fill in with whatever she wanted.

“Plenty of space to put a crib in, too, if you two decide you want to add a new addition to the family,” Mrs. Polly said, winking.

Loid and Yor both immediately looked flustered. Before either of them could protest, however, Anya looked at them curiously and asked:

“Anya’s gonna be a big sister?”

“Not any time soon!” Loid said, whirling his head around to look at Anya. “I want us all to be comfortable in our new lives here in Reinesburg and less reliant on Mrs. Polly before we even consider bringing another child in.”

“So Anya could be a big sister?” Anya asked, looking conflicted.

“Maybe,” Loid said before he turned to Yor. “If you happen to want one then, Yor.”

“Oh, um, that, ah...” Yor said, blushing and looking increasingly panicked, her ears twitching.

Mrs. Polly laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you two will sort it out eventually. And whether or not you’re trying to have another kid, try to do ‘it’ after the customers have left, like me and Jojo did then.”

“What’s ‘it’?” Anya asked, confused and annoyed.

"I'll--" Loid said before he sighed "--explain it to you tomorrow, Anya, after the feast tonight."

Anya looked even more upset but seemed to relent.

Suppressing giggles, Mrs. Polly continued, “Anyway, I think I should be going back downstairs and checking on what I’ve got in cooking. I wouldn’t want to show up tonight with burnt food and apologies.”

“I think I’ll go finally take that nap I wanted downstairs, too,” Gazyl said, yawning. “Kid deserves to have her new room to herself and her family right now. Later!”

“I'll best be keeping watch for any potential news or trouble at the ground floor, as well," Aleina said. "We can call you when the festivities are about to start if you'd like?"

Loid cleared his throat and said, “I would, Captain, thank you.”

“Then if you’ll excuse me as well,” Aleina said, bowing slightly.

Everyone else went down the stairs, leaving the Forgers alone in Anya’s room. An awkward silence fell over them until Anya yawned.

“Anya’s sleepy...” she said, rubbing her eyes with one hand as her other arm clutched Mr. Chimera.

“Want me to carry you and Mr. Chimera to bed, Anya?” Loid asked, offering his hands.

Anya nodded and went into them. “Then Papa can join Anya and Mr. Chimera!”

Loid paused for a moment before he smiled. “Yes, that does sound nice after everything that happened today,” he said as he picked up Anya.

“And Mama!” Anya said. “Mama has to join, too!”

“Me?” Yor asked, her ears perking up in surprise as she pointed at herself.

“Mmm!” Anya said, nodding with all the surety a young child could muster. “Papa, Anya, and Mama are family now!”

“Loid?” Yor asked as she turned to him.

“As much as I'd like you to humor Anya, I think your consent matters more," Loid said as he put down Anya in bed and then started taking off his shoes. "Do you want to?"

“Mm, does Mama want to?” Anya asked, sitting up and looking at Yor with wide eyes.

Yor thought about it for a moment before she nodded. "I do. I used to do it all the time with Yuri, and I think I'd like to be able to do it again with my—our new family,” she said.

“Then I’ll try and give you plenty of space then, Yor,” Loid said, laying on his side and scooting back to the far wall.

The attic was furnished with a double-bed like the guest room on the second floor, so it was easy to fit two adults and a small child sandwiched happily between them. Anya fell asleep quickly with a smile on her face. And after a bit of awkwardness and not quite knowing where to look, the exhaustion from the day's hunt and all the events afterward helped Yor and Loid fall asleep, too.

Outside, the sun continued to arc towards the west, and all of Reinesburg prepared for a feast that was going to be far more memorable than anyone was expecting.

Chapter Text

It was already dark out when someone came to wake up the Forgers. From the open window, Loid could already hear the faint, distant sounds of construction, lots of people moving about outside, and the general buzz of an upcoming festival.

He was awake in no time at all. And as his mind realized it wasn’t Mrs. Polly or Jack, his body instinctively tensed and his awareness heightened. But, he quickly relaxed as he recognized the tall, dress-wearing man with a large bag slung on one of his shoulders.

“Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said as he and Yor carefully sat up, trying not to disturb the still sleeping Anya.

“Mr. Forger, Mrs. Forger,” Vahlen said quietly, smiling, “and Ms. Anya, as well. Seems I should have rushed that sleepwear for all three of you sooner, but all those wrinkles are nothing I can’t fix.”

“Is it time for the feast?” Yor asked as she carefully swung her legs over the edge.

“Yes, almost," Vahlen said. "Before you ask, Mrs. Polly, Jack, Aleina, and Gazyl have already gone ahead with the preparations, either for the food table or the stage."

“Mmm...” Anya mumbled sleepily. “Time to get up already…?”

“Yes, Anya,” Loid said, gently ruffling the hair between her two cone-shaped ornaments, “time to get up.”

“Mnn...” Anya grumbled. “Maybe Anya can stay in bed a little longer...”

“Maybe, but then you might not get any of that cake and peanuts before it’s gone, Anya,” Loid said.

Anya’s eyes shot open and the rest of her shot up soon after. “Anya’s up! Anya’s ready! Don’t eat all the cake before Anya gets any…!”

Loid and Yor suppressed laughs while Vahlen couldn’t help letting out a hearty chuckle.

“I was just joking, Anya,” Loid said as Anya scrambled to get off her bed. “And if I wasn’t, we could save you a piece later or get you a new one tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Anya said, blinking. “Okay. Still time to go…?”

“Now that you’re already up, yes,” Loid said. “Mr. Vahlen? You said you had something to help us with our wrinkled clothes?” he said, looking down at his shirt.

“Yes, stand up and stand still, preferably in a line, and I’ll get you all presentable,” Vahlen said proudly. “This will be your first time meeting and interacting with both sides of Reinesburg! I'll not have any of you making bad impressions from an easily avoidable problem!"

The Forgers did as asked, and soon Vahlen was smoothing out the wrinkles with his hand and his magic. Unsurprisingly, it followed the same principle as ironing or steaming clothes, only with such exceptional heat distribution and efficiency that Vahlen safely did it with their clothes still on and barely any pain or risk of burns on their skin or fur.

“Mmm… toasty,” Anya hummed, pressing one of her dress’s sleeves against her face.

“Impressive work, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said.

“Thank you, thank you,” Vahlen said, bowing twice. “I’d offer to brush your hair and do a little make-up while we were at it, but oh well! Only so much we can do with the time we have.

“Come now, everyone!” he said, spinning around on his heel with his dress twirling in his wake. “Nothing will start without the whole hunting party, so you can’t be fashionably late.”

“We’re going, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said, picking an eager Anya up. Then, he offered his other hand to Yor and said, “Yor?”

“Of course, Loid,” Yor said, bashfully taking Loid’s hand.

Again, he thought the warmth of her fur on his palm felt nice, despite the tension he could feel in her muscles and the knowledge that she could easily accidentally crush his bones to dust. Perhaps Yor was trying to hide her nerves, but for inexperience and/or the quirks of her warbeast biology, she couldn't hide it.

“It'll be fine, Yor," Loid said. "You can let me do most of the talking for the both of us if you'd like?"

“I would like that, Loid,” Yor said, nodding.

“Anya can talk for Mama, too!” Anya piped up. “Especially the part where Mama and Papa and Gazyl were fighting Mr. Ullgar! Anya could see everything from the tree and Anya’s not going to leave any part out!”

Yor and Loid both giggled.

“I’m sure the other kids in town would love to hear it, Anya,” Loid said before they headed back down the stairs after Vahlen.

The Paladias' neighborhood was dark and quiet, with no lights but the street lamps. Every other storefront and window were dark, with signs put up saying they were closed early today or would not be opening tonight for the festival.

By contrast, the town square in the distance was lit up so brightly and emitting so much pleasant noise and laughter.

As they neared it, Loid could the place was even more crowded than it had been earlier that afternoon. Tables, people, and decorations spilled out into the adjacent streets and beyond. It wasn't surprising, as aside from all the people coming home from work in Port Illyria or elsewhere, the umbran side of town had now woken up and crossed over to join the festivities.

Some of them were just humans who preferred the night, nocturnal subspecies of warbeasts, and the simply named “Dark Fae” whose skin tones could come in blues, purples, and pale whites than the many shades of brown of the normal fae.

But, the rest were incredibly alien to Loid.

There were residents with prominent fangs, tusks, and extra rows of sharp teeth. Some residents scurried along the ground on their hands and feet, slithered around on their tails, or simply levitated off the ground and hovered, propelling themselves by magic or wings on their backs. Some residents were intensely mysterious, like robed figures in hoods with cloths wrapped tightly around their entire bodies, masks on, or only two visible glowing orbs where their faces would have been.

Assuming, of course, they even had faces. Loid would later learn umbran biology was often quite complicated, for how many different species fell under the term.

With so many individuals of so many physical differences, so many different cultures, and so many inherently alien ways of thinking and seeing the world all mingling and enjoying themselves as one community, Loid couldn’t but lament the divisions that brought war to Ostania and Westalia, where he and his fellow countrymen had been taught, manipulated, and trained to see their fellow humans as barbarians, criminals, or mere animals, undeserving of their empathy.

(That will still exist in this world, I’m sure of it,) Loid thought, (but peace and harmony despite differences is just an everyday fact of life here, not a far-off dream.)

Except for the guards on duty who recognized the Forgers from earlier in the day, most of the residents were too busy hanging out with their neighbors and families or finishing preparations for the feast to notice them. Even Jack and Mrs. Polly didn't notice Anya waving at them, too embroiled in the work at a field kitchen either cooking last-minute additions to the buffet tables or helping set them up.

Vahlen told them to mingle later and instead head to the centerpiece of the festival: a raised stage with Ullgar’s corpse resting on it.

It was laying stomach-first on a bed of magical frost, with several tubes inserted into it and Nihls pumping various alchemical solutions with the help of a machine. Loid didn’t know what could have happened to Ullgar’s body since, but it was significantly worse for wear. Huge clumps of fur had fallen out, the rest looked brittle and dull, and most of it was covered by a metallic blanket—as an insulator or perhaps just to hide the worst of it.

Gazyl was leaning against the base of the stage, idly scanning the crowds until he caught sight of the Forgers, his ears and tails perked up.

“Hey, you guys are finally here!” he cried as he ran up. “Old Man Ibroix, Al, and Shen are all waiting for you guys behind the stage. We’ve got your rings and ready and that monster of a cake Shen ended up baking!”

Gazyl laughed, Vahlen looked concerned.

“What did Shen do this time?” Vahlen asked.

“Better if I show you guys!” Gazyl said before he turned around and beckoned them with his hand. “Come on.”

Vahlen looked grim as if he were mentally bracing himself.

“Is this a common occurrence?” Loid asked as they walked around the stage.

Vahlen sighed heavily and said, “Yes. As you might have already experienced, Shen has trouble doing anything in half-measures if he’s not limited by external factors, such as a budget and available resources, precise instructions from a client, or the laws of physics and magic.”

“Isn't he a baker?" Yor asked. "I saw some very pretty, delicate-looking bread earlier. Did he not make them?"

“He is and he can be shockingly delicate with a feather-light touch if he needs to be,” Vahlen said. “When he’s not, however...”

They rounded the corner and saw the cake that Shen had baked, Vahlen trailed off and slowed to a stop.

Anya's eyes widened, and she and Vahlen both gasped.

“Giant cake!” Anya cried, throwing her hands up in celebration.

“Shen, what have you done?!” Vahlen yelled.

“What’s it look like?!” Shen countered, laughing with his hands on his hips. “I made a cake that’ll help the Forgers here make a lot of new friends in town!”

“Do you mean ‘approximately half the total population of Reinesburg’?!” Vahlen snapped before he threw his arms at it. “This is a monstrous creation!”

It really was, Loid thought. The cake was loaded on the back of a wagon lined with parchment paper and could have easily fit up to the edges, if Shen hadn’t needed allowance to coat the sides with crushed peanuts, too. The icing was light, milky brow, completely smooth without a wayward bubble or curdling to be seen.

“Wow...” Yor said as she approached it. “How did you manage to make a cake this big? Did you have a giant oven in the bakery?”

“Nah,” Shen said, shaking his head, “I cheated by using multiple regular rectangle cake pans, baking several of them in batches, and then after they were done cooling, cut and placed together, with the frosting giving the illusion it’s one solid, continuous cake.

“Still, pretty impressive, huh?” he said, beaming.

“Mr. Savanwood,” Loid said, blinking, “you didn’t have to go this far. I don’t think what I paid you is nearly worth what this must have cost in ingredients alone.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Mr. Forger!” Shen said, waving one tree-trunk-like arm. “I wanted to go all out since you and your wife helped kill Ullgar.”

His face darkened as he continued, “I didn’t mention this earlier because your marriage is more important, but the bastard got a few of my old hunting buddies. I’ve already prepared the ends as offerings for their graves and memorials, for when I make the rounds tomorrow to tell them and their families the good news.”

Then, he brightened up again as he continued, “Plus, I stopped by the General Store to get some more peanuts and other ingredients, and when I told Uncle Velros about your order, he gave me a whole barrel of the stuff outright, plus sacks of everything else I needed at a steep discount!

“He said he couldn’t wait to see what I’d make and how everyone would react!”

“Of course, Mr. Vishafell was behind this...” Vahlen said, shaking his head. “Oh, sweet St. Lumina, Shen, we’re going to take minutes just to completely cut this thing alone, and then, we’re going to be serving it all night! I’ll have to find Ms. Nam and Kass as well, we don’t have enough hands for this!”

“Ah, let the ladies have their fun, Vahlen!” Shen cried. “If you’re going to bail now, then these”--he flexed his arms and grunted--”are just going to have to finish the job without you!”

“If you find your arms too sore to bake tomorrow, don’t come running to me for relief,” Vahlen said, scowling.

Then, Vahlen sighed and gestured towards Aleina and Ibroix who were next to a table and had been silently watching the conversation with exasperation (the former) or deep amusement (the latter).

“You should go talk with them and finalize your ceremony,” Vahlen said. “I’ll be here figuring out how I’m going to slice this cake with Shen and how much more of his nonsense I’m willing to tolerate tonight...”

“We will, good luck with that, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said.

“Thank you,” Vahlen said. Then, he touched the side of his eyes, they glowed, and he peered intensely at the cake.

The Forgers walked over to Ibroix and Aleina. On the table, Loid noticed a small metal box. It had a carved relief of two vines growing and twisting together before ending in a single blooming flower on the lid.

“Good evening to the new happy family!" Ibroix said, smiling as he sat in his wheelchair. "And yes, that box does contain your wedding rings. Untouched since earlier, I should mention, though if you want a last-minute engraving or decoration, I will be happy to oblige."

“Good evening as well, Mayor, Captain Aleina, and I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Loid said. “Is everything set up and ready to go?”

“Yes, of course!” Ibroix said. “Gazyl will be powering the speakers and doing most of the talking, and afterward, you two are free to say what you please or follow this script we wrote, should you not want to think of something off the cuff.”

“Here are your copies, feel free to read from them on stage if you have to," Aleina said, pulling out neatly folded papers from her pockets.

Loid did, scanned his copy, and had it almost totally memorized soon after.

“Forgive me if it was meant to be a silent, solemn affair, but I thought it would be better if there was more to it,” Ibroix said as Loid read.

“No,” Loid said, shaking his head, “there’s often a speech from the presiding authority. But, since I’m neither religious nor have a copy of the usual scripts, this is more than welcome.”

“It’s really sweet,” Yor said. “But, umm, I’m afraid I may get a bit too embarrassed, trying to say all this in public in front of so many people.”

“We can just have my side of the vows if it’s too much for you, Yor,” Loid said.

“No, let’s not,” Yor said, shaking her head. “I want to try, at least.”

“So,” Gazyl interrupted, “with everything set up and the scripts distributed: do we get this party started? Now, I’m not saying ‘I can’t wait for the booze to start flowing free and the buffet to be open!’, but, you know: I wouldn’t mind if it’s sooner than later.”

Yor chuckled while Loid playfully sighed and shook his head. “Anya?” he asked her. “Are you ready?”

“Let’s tell the whole town Mama and Papa are married now!” Anya cried. “Also, Anya wants that cake soon, too!”

“Atta girl!” Gazyl said, bending down to Anya’s level. “High-five, kid!”

Anya did before their eyes shone with excitement.

Loid made a note to watch Gazyl’s influence on Anya, moving forward.

They all headed up to the stage, climbing a set of stairs or rolling up a ramp that ended near Ullgar’s corpse, Nihls, and his pumping machine.

“Good evening, everyone,” Nihls said, nodding. “Time for the festivities to begin?”

“Yes, Mr. Nihls,” Loid said before he looked at the corpse. “Though, I am a bit worried about death not becoming Ullgar. It seems we may have to remove him early if he starts to smell or literally fall apart before our eyes.”

“I’m afraid my alma mater didn’t offer ‘Miracle Working’ as a subject,” Nihls chuckled as he shut off the machine.

“I like him better this way, honestly,” Gazyl said as he went up to the mic on the edge of the stage and started charging it. “A nightmarish terror in life and a pathetic corpse in death.”

“Good luck, everyone!” Nihls said as he removed the tubes and coiled them around the machine. “I’ll be off now, before I kill the mood. You know, just by being here.”

“Thank you and goodbye, Mr. Nihls,” Loid said.

"Anya doesn't mind if Mr. Nihls doesn't come back!" Anya said.

Nihls seemed to laugh at that as he rolled down the ramp, Loid whipped his head at her and looked at a loss of what to do.

“He was strange,” Yor said as she watched Nihls go.

“It was part of the reason he serves as Reinesburg’s resident alchemist, then some other settlement's,” Ibroix said. “But, we can talk about Nihls later: your audience awaits.”

Loid turned to look.

Several residents had already noticed they were getting up on stage, they'd stopped what they were doing to look or had come up for a closer look, curious and eager to see the faces of the hunting party that had taken down Ullgar.

Anya seemed delighted to be the center of attention, looking proud.

Yor looked nervous, her ears pulling back as she began to shrink into herself a bit.

Loid thought of reaching out to hold her hand to comfort her—but Gazyl was already speaking into the mic.

“Mic, check, 1, 2!” Gazyl said, grinning. “Everyone hear me alright?!”

Cheers and happy shouting came back from the crowd, several of them raising glasses or the cooking utensils they had in their hands.

“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes!’” Gazyl said, nodding. “So, good evening, Reinesburg! I’m sure all of you already heard the news, but, in case any of you just heard the word ‘feast’ and tuned out everything else, we’re here tonight to celebrate the death of a Named monster:

“Ullgar, the Not-Undying-After-All!”

That got a couple of chuckles from the crowd.

Then, Gazyl’s face turned serious. “You know, for almost a year now, he’s been stuck on my mind. 3 months I spent trying to help hunt him down, 5 months I’ve spent trying to figure out how we’re ever going to kill him for good, especially now that the Hunter’s Guild was no longer helping us.

“Now, I could lie and make myself look good, by saying that I wanted to avenge all the many hunters Ullgar has killed and the grieving survivors he’s made, but in all honesty, what drove me was one kid.

"His name was Oz, about 7, 8 years old, I never asked. Both his parents were wandering independent hunters, and he wanted to become one himself, though his parents disagreed.

“Ullgar was supposed to be the last Big Game Hunt before they finally settled down in some place for good, ‘home’ was finally going to be one place they could always come back rather than wherever they were staying that season, and Oz was going to go to a normal school, live a normal life, and find normal happiness, away from the bloodshed, the struggles, and the uncertainty of being a professional hunter.

“Oz thought differently, though. There was nothing more he wanted than to be a hunter. But, his parents didn't want to train him, so I ended up being his teacher in my downtime.

“Again, I could lie and make myself look good, but in all honesty? The kid had a knack for fishing, and you guys all know how much I love catfish and river eels, especially when someone else did all the hard work.”

Once more, chuckles from the crowd, some shaking their heads.

“I promised him I’d buy him a set of cheap training knives from Kass, since I wouldn’t let him use my set, and as I said, I did. I promised him I’d teach him how to reliably hit a target without cutting himself or hurting someone else, and as I said, I did. I promised that, since his parents ended up joining up with me most days, I would keep bringing them back here safe again…

“… And when I ended up breaking that promise, I didn’t know what the hell to say to him.

“Oz sure did know what the hell to say to me, though: ‘You liar! Mom and Dad are dead because of you! Now, I know never to trust you or any adult ever again, because all of you are just liars!’

“The kid tried to throw his knives at me, but though I dodged every one of them, his words cut and hurt deeper than they ever could.

“I tried to reason with him—told him that his parents knew the risks of monster-hunting, that he wasn’t the only one that had lost loved ones to Ullgar or other Named monsters, that I didn’t want this, either.

“But, I guess I forgot he was just a little kid, one that just lost both his parents and all trust in the man he was starting to see as the big brother he never had.

“Oz disappeared into town that day, I was too scared and at a loss to chase after him. And later, when I finally got over myself and decided to ask Al and around the Hunter’s Guild branches in Port Illyria, they said they didn’t know where he was, either.

“Oz never came to claim his parents’ life insurance and what they left him in their wills. For two weeks, we kept trying to find him and kept turning up dead-ends. And after the search was finally called off, the official world is that Oz must have just disappeared in Port Illyria, like countless other kids have, like I almost did if I hadn’t been born wyrde and extraordinarily lucky besides.

“I know that I couldn’t have done anything about Oz.

“I know I screwed up with what I said after he got the news that his parents were dead, and also that I couldn’t blame everything after that on just me.

“I know there was no way I could ever go back in time, to undo his parents’ deaths, or to try to fix everything for Oz here in the present.

“But, I did know that I could still do something to prevent another kid from losing their parents to tragedy, like what happened to me and my sister long ago. And aside from joining all the Named monster hunts this year, I made a promise to myself that I’d find some way to kill Ullgar and put him down for good, somehow.

“For 5 months, I tried and failed or had to put a stop the hunt on hold, I just didn’t have the time, the resources, or the help to try and kill Ullgar.

"Then, 6 weeks ago, I found a fellow warbeast sister who had the strength and the skill to fight off Ullgar several times and survive each encounter completely intact.

“Then, 1 day ago, I helped rescue a father and her kid, after they had to flee their home country and were being preyed on by human traffickers.

“Then, give or take 6-7 hours ago, we finally put Ullgar down for good, together,” Gazyl said before he looked back at the Forgers, smiled, and beckoned them forward.

With proud faces, they did so as one, as a family.

“Everyone?” Gazyl said, grinning as he looked back to the crowds. “This is Yor, this is Loid, and this is Anya, and--” he paused, his eyes widening, his ears and tail perking up in surprise. “Wait, is that Colwyn?”

“That’s Lord Colwyn, to you!” a man’s shouted back, his voice amplified.

With everyone’s attention on the stage, almost no one had noticed the yacht traveling on the nearby river or the portly and lavishly dressed man standing on the bow, one servant holding a magical megaphone up to his mouth, another activating a row of spotlights behind him.

They exploded to life, several people cried out as they were hit with the glare, some umbrans outright fleeing for cover. Even Loid could barely see, all he could see was a glittering silhouette amid the too-bright lights.

“Behold, citizens of Reinesburg!” the man cried, ignoring or ignorant of the reactions. “Your Lord, Carvell Corvus Colwyn, is here!”

Chapter Text

When Loid did not have the benefit of a dossier or the opportunity to read one before his first meeting with a person of interest, his spy training had given him plenty of lessons and tools to use instead.

Among these was paying close attention when someone was introducing themselves, especially in a grand, dramatic, planned entrance like this.

The spotlights at Colwyn’s back continued to beam, making the position of his yacht easy to track and predict—and painfully so if you had the misfortune of being hit directly by the beams. It was headed toward one of the docks to the town square, Loid noticed that the people and the guards stationed began to either hurry out of the way or station themselves around Colwyn’s entrance point.

Like the parted sea of legend, the Forgers now saw a nearly straight path from the stage to there. If that was politely giving Lord Colwyn space for his dramatic entrance or just to avoid interacting with the man entirely, Loid could not definitively say for sure.

But, the looks of tension and exasperation on Gazyl, Aleina, and Ibroix’s faces told Loid it probably tended more towards the latter.

Gazyl quickly shut off the mic, Aleina and Ibroix quickly excused themselves and went off the stage, joining a group of other guards and city hall workers that had rushed to their sides then over to where Lord Colwyn would soon be.

However, though the spotlights on the yacht were shut off, that seemed to just be the opening signal for the theatrics.

Two butlers and two maids in finely tailored uniforms ran up from the dock and into the town square. Two dropped a literal red carpet and rolled it out as fast as they could toward the stage, the third set up a smaller, more portable spotlight at an upward angle, while the fourth activated her megaphone and said:

“Fair citizens of Reinesburg, presenting: your Lord, Baron Carvell Corvus Colwyn!”

A man in his mid-to-late forties strode up, his portly figure dressed in an ostentatious suit with so much golden metallic thread, a massive jewel on the center of his silken cravat, and so many bejeweled rings on his hands he probably would have glittered like a jeweler’s display if you shone a light directly on him.

He scanned the surroundings with a serious look, saw Loid and then Yor, and then smiled.

Loid felt Anya clutch his leg again, he looked down and saw her cowering and shaking. He reached down to touch her head and asked, “Anya?”

“Bad Man again...” Anya muttered. “No one likes Bad Man or wants Bad Man here...”

“There, there,” Loid said, patting her before he turned back to Colwyn.

He felt bad for not comforting Anya more, but Lord Colwyn hadn’t come alone, and Loid would regret not paying attention.

“Presenting: his son and heir apparent, the Honorable Cyrillo Constantino Colwyn!”

A younger, thinner version of Lord Colwyn in a much less flashy suit and only two rings on his hands came up, his long hair swept back in a ponytail. Cyrillo strode proudly into the spotlight, looked at the crowds, grinned, and grabbed the lapels of his jacket before he walked over to his father’s side.

“And finally, presenting: his first daughter, the Honorable Clemencia Heloise Colwyn!”

This lady probably resembled her mother far more than her father. Compared to her father and brother, Clemencia was in a simple-looking dress with just a simple necklace and a small ring on her hand. She was much less confident and didn't seem too eager to be her, either, shrinking into herself as she noticed the apathy, the confusion, and the dislike from the crowd.

Then, Clemencia's maid grabbed her shoulders, pushed her forward, and seemed to smile, wave, and greet the crowds in her mistress’s place.

(Odd,) Loid thought, (the other two are content to appear alone with grand entrances to flaunt their wealth. Why is she left out of the pageantry? I don't think humbleness and simplicity like this is some sort of unspoken custom for noblewomen.)

He decided to put that for later as the Colwyns spoke with Aleina and Ibroix briefly before they headed toward the stage with Lord Colwyn leading.

“Oh, no, here they come...” Gazyl whispered, shaking his head. “Forger, Yor, Anya: I’m sorry, you guys will have to do without me. I can’t stand being next to the guy.”

“Go, Gazyl,” Loid said as he noticed Aleina and Ibroix looking directly at him and wordlessly warning him. “We’ll do without you.”

“Thanks, I owe you guys,” Gazyl said before he swiftly hopped off the stage and ran to the back.

If Lord Colwyn and his children noticed Gazyl’s disappearance, they seemed to have considered him of too little importance to worth caring about.

“Good evening, my good man, as you have heard, I am Baron Carvell Corvus Colwyn, and you must be Mr. Loid Forger who I’ve been hearing so much about!” Colwyn said, beaming as he walked up to Loid and offered his hand.

Loid forced a smile “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Lordship.”

“As with you, Mr. Forger!” Colwyn cried as he put his second hand over Loid’s, shaking it vigorously before letting go. “And you must be his daughter, Anya, was it?”

“Mmn...” Anya whimpered, hiding behind Loid.

“Shy among strangers, is she?” Colwyn asked as he looked back up at Loid.

“I’d chalk that more to the circumstances that lead to us ending up here in your town, Your Lordship,” Loid said.

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard a bit about that, but fear not: I have a plan to turn your family’s fortune around!” Lord Colwyn cried, puffing up his chest. “And as with our clanless warbeast acquaintance here, as well,” he said, looking at Yor with that same grin as before.

Yor reeled, looking wary before she seemed to catch herself and tried to at least look neutral.

“But, before all that: meet, my two adult children, Mr. Forger,” Colwyn said, stepping back and putting a proud hand on his son’s shoulder. “My first son and heir, Cyrillo.”

“A pleasure to meet you, too, Mr. Forger!” Cyrillo said, offering his hand and a smile. “Please, don’t feel the need to be as formal with me, you may just call me Cyril or Mr. Cyril.”

“Likewise, and as you wish, Mr. Cyril," Loid said, briefly shaking it.

“And my daughter, Clemencia,” Colwyn said, subtly putting a hand to her back and pushing her forward.

Clemencia stumbled slightly before she caught herself and offered her hand. “Good evening, Mr. Forger. I’m pleased to meet you, as well.”

“Charmed, I’m sure, Ms. Colwyn,” Loid said as he took it.

This shake was a lot weaker, unsure, and unconfident.

“I must mention, Mr. Forger, she’s single, and would make a lovely wife for a magia like yourself, especially since she has already had one child born with the gift and could bear many more still,” Colwyn said, smiling.

The Forgers, Cyril, Clemencia, and her maid all startled

“Father!” Clemencia cried, blushing. “We’ve only just met!”

“And yet, time continues to march ever forward, my dear,” Colwyn said, frowning. “One must grab opportunities as soon as they present themselves, for one never knows how soon they will escape your grasp!”

“Lord Colwyn--” Loid started.

“Save your response for later, Mr. Forger!” Lord Colwyn interrupted. “I’ve more to offer you than just my daughter’s hand in marriage as gratitude for slaying Ullgar, and I do believe the whole town deserves to know it as well to share in your good fortune!”

“But Mr. Colwyn--” Anya started.

“Lord Colwyn!” Lord Colwyn snapped, glaring at Anya.

Anya shrank and stopped.

“Please don’t scare my daughter, Lord Colwyn,” Loid said, frowning.

“As long as you also teach her manners and the appropriate manners of address post-haste,” Lord Colwyn huffed. “Prevention, and all that. Now, back to where I was--”

“Um, speaking of prevention--” Yor started.

“Don’t interrupt me,” Colwyn snapped, glaring at her. “Did your former clan never teach you how to speak to your betters or were they all just a bunch of roaming wild savages, untouched by civilization?”

Yor blinked, surprised, before her eyes narrowed and her hackles rose.

Cyril noticed, looked worried, and subtly braced himself, Clemencia looked horrified and deeply embarrassed, while her maid discreetly coaxed her a few steps back and away from Yor’s immediate striking range.

Meanwhile, Loid quietly put a hand on Yor’s shoulder and squeezed it, whispering, “Please don’t kill him. He’s not worth the cost of life imprisonment.”

Yor inhaled deeply and calmed herself down, if reluctantly.

“Hmph,” Lord Colwyn scoffed. “It seems at least they taught you self-control. Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted: let me properly thank you for your service to Reinesburg and by extension, my family,” he said as he walked over to the mic stand.

The same maid that had served as the Colwyn’s herald had been standing beside it to check it, and now humbly offered the mic to Lord Colwyn.

Lord Colwyn took it from her, turned to the townspeople, and cried: “Citizens of Reinesburg: rejoice! Ullgar the Undying has been slain and I, your Lord Colwyn, have come to celebrate his demise with you…!”

As Lord Colwyn launched into a speech about Ullgar and his attempts to hunt him down as the town’s lord, Aleina and Ibroix walked back up the stage and joined the others.

“I appreciate your not assaulting Lord Colwyn, Mrs. Briar,” Aleina said quietly. “That charge would have guaranteed life imprisonment or execution.”

Yor huffed. “I was doing it because of Loid and Anya. He’s so rude, how is he at the top?”

“I’m afraid for all its radical changes and progress, Port Illyria and its townships are still often beholden to the whims and mercies of dynasties, both within Lumania and abroad,” Ibroix said. “And Lord Colwyn has yet to cause a terrible enough scandal or worse yet, loss of profits and business, to start a serious call for his removal.”

“Is Mr. Colwyn trying to get Ms. Colwyn to marry Papa even though Papa’s married Mama bad enough?” Anya asked hopefully.

“No, child,” Ibroix replied, shaking his head.

“Aww,” Anya said, disappointed.

“Wait, pardon me: are you saying you’re already married, Mr. Forger?” Cyril asked.

“To Yor, yes,” Loid said. “We were just about to make the announcement public before your father made his entrance.”

Cyril whistled, Clemencia looked even more mortified, and her maid broke her professional neutrality as her mouth fell into a small “o.”

“Well, that’s going to throw a huge, embarrassing wrench into Father’s big speech…” Cyril muttered.

“Should we, um, should we try to inform him…?” Clemencia asked, looking conflicted.

“Let him be, Ms. Colwyn,” Ibroix said calmly. “We have a saying in Qiel’solai:

“Where is someone fighting to put their foot inside their mouth, the fools are approaching them and getting hurt, the wise are standing back and trying not to laugh.”

“Will Grandpa Ibroix not laugh, though?” Anya asked.

“Yes! If only because my position and work ethic demands it of me, child," Ibroix said, smiling.

Clemencia sighed. “As little as it might mean coming from a stranger...” she muttered, “I sincerely apologize for all that Father has done and is about to do.”

“I as well,” Cyril said humbly. “I do hope we can make recompense for all the insults. I was looking forward to making the acquaintance of such a fascinating stranger like yourself, Mr. Forger.”

“Then pray your father does not completely test our patience,” Loid said quietly as he continued observing Colwyn.

“… Will not one of these hordes of so-called professionals be able to rid me of this damnable beast?!” Colwyn continued. “I drained so much of my family’s coffers to entice them, to supply them, and to provide due compensation when tragedy inevitably struck, and yet in the end, after 3 long, stressful months, not one of them could put down this bear for good!?

“So much time, effort, and money lost for nothing!

“I feared Ullgar may be a monster that haunts me and my successors for generations, forever a reminder of what prosperity, potential, and profit had been robbed from my family’s town! Now, however, the tides of fate have finally brought us intrepid monster slayers who could put him down for good!

“Come forth now, Mr. Forger, with your daughter and the rest of your hunting party! Bask now in your well-deserved glory!” Lord Colwyn said, looking back at them.

Anya and Yor looked at Loid with expressions that said, “Do we have to?”

Loid quietly sighed, picked Anya up, then nodded at Yor. Reluctantly, the three of them stepped up to join Colwyn at the front of the stage.

What parts of the audience were paying attention clapped and cheered, the Forgers smiled genuinely and waved.

Colwyn nodded to himself like a director watching a production go smoothly until he noticed something: "Wait, aren't there supposed to be four of you?” he mumbled. “Ah, never mind: if they won’t show up, that’s no problem of mine.”

“Yes, applause, applause!” Lord Colwyn said as he came back to the mic. “Our heroes deserve our praise! But, alongside that, they also deserve their material rewards! Bring forth, the bounty money!”

Again, the miniature spotlight was lit up, now pointed at a small cart with a large wooden chest on it and two of the servants from earlier hauling it to the stage.

“1,568,535 fiorans!” Lord Colwyn crowed. “All authentic, all in coin, and all our intrepid hunting party’s, with the rest to be paid in the coming weeks, as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow!”

Loid decided to ask about the possibility of a lump sum later. The way Colwyn phrased that just now, the prospect looked a bit grim.

“And though this sum is quite generous indeed, I have yet more generosity to give!” Lord Colwyn said before he turned to Loid. “Mr. Forger?”

“Yes, Lord Colwyn?” Loid asked.

“It’s not every day that a magia of your considerable talents comes to Port Illyria, much more one without ties to an employer, an organization, or a family of note already!” Lord Colwyn said. “Alone, a stranger to Lumania, and with a young child to take care of, there’s only so much you can do to take advantage of those gifts you have been born with and the skills you have honed…

“So, I offer you now, Mr. Forger, a position as a butler in my household!

Anya seemed unsurprised to hear it, and in turn, Loid was unsurprised to see her turn to him with an expression that read, “Please tell me you’re not going to say yes.”

"I'm not," Loid wordlessly replied.

“Yes, it’s a chance to return to where you belong: among the nobility!” Lord Colwyn continued, ignorant of their exchange. “I swear, with my family’s connections, our power, and our wealth, you will find yourself with a position and opportunities that a magia of your caliber deserves!

"And I swear your daughter will also find her future well-taken care of in our household. My youngest child, Cristiana, could use another maid closer to her age, and the two of them can hone their magical talents together!”

“Anya doesn’t want,” Anya said.

Lord Colwyn ignored her. “Compensation will also be generous, I assure you. So, Mr. Forger: what do you say?” he asked as he finally held out the mic to Loid and looked at him expectantly.

“Lord Colwyn,” Loid said, “your generosity with the bounty money humbles me, and you offering me a position in your household is also quite magnanimous. But, I apologize deeply, Your Lordship, for I must refuse.”

Lord Colwyn kept smiling until realization hit him. “You what?”

“I must refuse," Loid continued calmly. "I believe my desire and my time to be among the nobility ended when I had to flee my home country with only my child and the clothes on our backs, abandoning all we knew and loved if we had not tragically lost them already.

“Now, I only wish for a peaceful family life as a commoner in Reinesburg, especially since I have a new wife to share it with.”

“You’ve remarried already?!” Lord Colwyn asked, trembling as his pleasant demeanor began to rapidly crumble. "To who? Since when?! Why was I not informed?!” he cried, whipping his head around and looking furious.

“To Yor,” Loid said as he held his hand out to Yor, she smiled as she took it, “this afternoon, and forgive us, Lord Colwyn, but we were just planning to publicly announce it before Your Lordship arrived and began his speech.”

“I see...” Lord Colwyn seethed, face red but keeping mostly calm—for now.

“If Your Lordship would be so kind, perhaps we could continue where we were, before your arrival?” Loid asked, smiling.

Lord Colwyn looked like he wanted to strangle someone—or perhaps, just have someone fired immediately—before he said something heated under his breath and stormed off the stage, ignoring Aleina and Ibroix, and then his children’s attempts to reach out to him.

Loid watched him go, took the mic, then said, “Gazyl! Think you can come back now?”

“Hah!” Gazyl yelled from behind the stage. “You got it, brother!”

Several people cheered as Gazyl triumphantly ran out from behind the stage, a giant smile on his face and his tail wagging in delight. He barely broke stride as he vaulted onto it, Loid handed him back the mic, and the Forgers moved so everyone could see them.

“Back to where I was!” Gazyl said, his hand glowing as he recharged the mic. “Everyone, this is Loid, this is his daughter, Anya, and this is Yor, and as of this afternoon today, not only are they our newest residents in town, but they are the newly-formed Forger Family!

“So tonight, we celebrate three things: Ullgar’s finally permanently kicking the bucket, my new friend Loid and warbeast sister Yor getting married, and Anya getting a mother again!”

The whole town square erupted in cheers and applause, some polite and quiet, others wild and raucous.

“And now, Old Man Ibroix is going to officiate their ceremony,” Gazyl said, handing it to Ibroix.

“Thank you, Gazyl,” Ibroix said as he rolled up. “Friends, neighbors, guests from elsewhere, let us bear witness now, as they exchange their oaths and rings to celebrate their marriage.

“Tragedy and circumstance may have been what brought the Forgers to our humble town, but good fortune and love will be what keeps them here, together as a couple, and together as a family with their daughter, Anya, and together with us, as part of our community.”

“I call on the couple now to come forth and speak!” Ibroix cried. “Let all bear witness to your vows, transform these from simple rings into enduring reminders of your union!”

Aleina stepped up, opened the box, and showed off the rings, they sparkled brilliantly in the light.

Anya smiled and tugged at Loid’s sleeve, he put her down, and then she headed over to Aleina’s side, now watching with wide, sparkling eyes.

Ibroix put the mic back on the stand and adjusted it so it was in easy reach of them both.

Still holding Yor’s hand, Loid guided her to one side as he stood on the other.

Yor’s face was red. She was trembling. But, Loid thought, it was not from fear or hesitation but happiness and embarrassment both.

Loid looked out the crowds.

Unlike with Lord Colwyn, all eyes were on them, eager to see what happened next, sharing in the joy of the ceremony than waiting for it to be over.

Then, he turned back to Yor, he rotated their hands so their palms were touching, his hand beneath hers.

“Yor,” he said, his voice heard throughout the square, “I swear now to be your loving husband, to accept you happily as the new mother of my daughter, Anya, to be with you in times of prosperity and crisis, of joy and sadness, of health and sickness. May this ring on your finger be a reminder of this oath I swear to you."

And with that, Aleina handed him one of the rings, Loid quietly slipped it onto Yor’s ring finger, and just like earlier this afternoon, it fit perfectly.

Yor stared at it, her trembling lips curling up into a smile, and as she looked up at Loid, he found himself doing the same.

Then, Aleina cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Mrs. Briar?” she whispered. “Your oath?”

“Oh!” Yor cried, her ears flying up for a moment. “Right! Let me just...” she muttered as she reached into her dress’s pockets and pulled out her copy of the script.

The audience chuckled and murmured as Yor unfolded it and tried to find where she was.

Their hands switched positions, Loid’s now on top. Aleina handed the other ring to Yor before holding the script up for Yor to read from.

“Thank you,” Yor whispered before she turned back to Loid.

She was already blushing before, but now her face seemed on the verge of bursting into flames. She was sweating, too, her ears twitching nervously, more nervous shakes in her hand.

“Umm… Loid… I… I…” Yor said before she trailed off.

Loid quietly nodded at her to continue.

Anya clutched her hands into fists and gave Yor a look of determination and silent support.

Aleina quietly whispered the first few words of Yor’s line, too quiet for the mic to pick up.

Ibroix continued to wait between them, patiently waiting and looking professional.

“Umm...” Yor said before she looked down. “I-I think I changed my mind, Loid, we should probably just have your side of the vows… this is too embarrassing for me...”

The audience went into another round of laughs and lighthearted jokes.

“Fine by me,” Loid said. “The ring then, Yor?”

“Mm,” Yor went before she quietly slipped it onto Loid's hand.

Again, it fit perfectly. And though it was as plain and undecorated as earlier this afternoon, Loid thought it looked quite beautiful.

Ibroix held his hand out for the mic, Anya rejoined them as they faced the crowd together as a family.

“This part of the ceremony is finished,” Ibroix said sagely. “And now: let us bring out the cake!”

There were gasps of surprise and happy cheers in the town square. The cake had been too large to escape notice but now everyone knew what and who it was for, especially since that Shen and Vahlen had cut it into a neat grid of rectangular slices.

“The first slice for the happy couple to share!” Shen said, handing one up on a plate with a fork on it.

“Thank you,” Loid said, before picking up a bit off the edge. “Yor?” he asked, holding it up.

Yor eagerly opened her mouth and closed her eyes.

With all the careful precision and control he’d developed as a soldier and then a spy, Loid delicately put the cake into Yor’s mouth and she ate it.

“Delicious!” she cried, her ears shooting up and her tail wiggling behind hair.

Beneath the stage, Shen crossed his arms and beamed with pride.

“Your turn now?” Yor said as she took the plate from Loid.

Loid nodded and opened his mouth.

And though Yor looked nervous the whole time, as if she were afraid she might accidentally stab Loid in the face or shove the fork down his throat, he got his bite of cake without incident.

“Hmm, this tastes wonderful indeed," Loid said.

“So is it Anya’s turn now to have some now?!”

Loid and Yor looked down and there was Anya, shaking with excitement.

They smiled or giggled. “Of course, Anya,” Loid said.

“Got the second slice for the daughter!” Shen said, handing up another plate.

Loid and Yor took it together and held it out to Anya. Then, Anya ignored the fork and just dug into it with her hands, shoving fistfuls of cake into her mouth.

Loid paused, surprised, before he joined everyone else in laughing.

“Let the feast begin!” Ibroix cried. “Eat, drink, be merry! Rejoice in our latest victory against the monsters and Ullgar the Undying! Celebrate the union of Mr. and Mrs. Forger, and welcome their family to our community here in Reinesburg!”

Cheers went up, corks on bottles of beer, liquor, and wine started popping, and the feast began.

Chapter Text

Lord Colwyn quietly slunk off, fuming and humiliated. The Forgers briefly watched him go before they returned to their cake, Gazyl excused himself to shut off the audio equipment, while his children looked deeply apologetic or deeply embarrassed.

“My congratulations on your wedding and my deepest apologies for Father’s behavior, Mr., Mrs., and Ms. Forger,” Cyril said, bowing slightly. “And if you would be so kind and generous, can we please still get some of that cake? It looks delicious and I’d love to know what it tastes like, at least.”

“Help yourself, Mr. Colwyn,” Loid said as his family began to head down the stairs. “There’s plenty to go around and for the moment, I’ll excuse this as just your Father’s faux pas.”

Cyril gasped, pleased. “Oh, you are truly a gentleman, Mr. Forger, thank you,” he said as he followed them down. “Rest assured, your kindness will not go without reciprocation in the future.”

“Yes, thank you very much, Mr. Forger,” Clemencia said, smiling.

“You’re both welcome,” Loid said. “And would your maid like a slice, too, Ms. Colwyn?”

Clemencia’s maid perked up, eyes wide as if she hadn’t expected to even be noticed let alone specifically addressed. Then, she beamed, nodded furiously, and pulled out a small notebook. She flipped to a page with a grid of words on it, then pointed to, “Yes.”, “Please.”, and “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss…?” Loid asked.

She flipped to a different section of the notebook and held it up. It read:

“My name is Minuette Metera Melliora. I am Ms. Clemencia Colwyn's cousin and her maid. You may call me Ms. Melliora, Ms. Miu, or just Miu.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Then, Miu offered her hands to Loid and Yor.

“Likewise, Ms. Melliora,” Loid said as they both shook then headed over to Vahlen and Shen.

A line was already forming, Shen and Vahlen moved with incredible dexterity and delicacy, plating cake slices, adding forks to them, then handing them off to the next people in line as soon as they offered their hands or hand-equivalents to receive it.

“Hey, there’s the new happy family!” Shen cried, barely losing momentum even as he looked away from the cake. “Oh, and Mr. and Ms. Colwyn and Ms. Miu are with you, too!”

“Good evening, Mr. Savanwood!” Cyril said. “Pardon us for cutting in line, but may we get some cake for myself, my sister, and Miu? I would really like to try some before we go check on Father.”

“I already gave them the go-ahead, Mr. Savanwood,” Loid added.

“Sure, sure!” Shen said. “Plenty to go around, right, Vahlen?”

“Yes, yes, too much, even!” Vahlen said as he plated up three in quick succession and handed them off one-by-one. “Mr. Colwyn, Ms. Colwyn, Ms. Melliora. And Ms. Colwyn? If I may have a word with you before you leave?”

Clemencia startled, slightly surprised. “Y-Yes, Mr. Vahlen?”

"Feel free to come to visit my store to get a new dress or have the old ones refitted or redecorated to fit with the newest trends," Vahlen said with a small smile. “It’s been a few seasons since you last dropped by, I’d be happy to help keep you up to date.”

“I—thank you, Mr. Vahlen,” Clemencia said, sheepishly turning her eyes down. “I’ll have to go see if my schedule will permit it.”

“Yes, yes, times must be quite busy for you still,” Vahlen said. “Feel free to send a letter ahead.”

(That's definitely something to explore later,) Loid thought to himself as Vahlen resumed serving the rest of the line. (It wouldn’t hurt to know more about Lord Colwyn and his family, since he’s the source of the Paladias money woes.)

But, that would be much, much later, if he had the time to spare and legal means to do investigate.

(No more spy work,) Loid reminded himself.

Meanwhile, Cyril took a bite out of his cake and hummed. “Mm, how wonderful! Thank you again, Mr. Forger, and my compliments to you as well, Mr. Savanwood. Anyway, I would love to stay, chat, and get to know you all better, but as I said, we must see Father first."

“I think I should join you, as well," Ibroix said. "It's been a while since we've had all of Reinesburg's noble families together like this."

“Would you like a slice to go, Mayor?” Shen asked, holding up a plate.

Ibroix laughed. “Perhaps if there’s any leftover at the end of the night, somehow. Sweets are best to delight the young.”

“Then don’t let us keep you,” Loid said. “And Mr. Colwyn? If you could tell Lord Colwyn he can skip the theatrics for the rest of the bounty money, it would be appreciated.”

“I will, but do think of opening an account at the Bank of Port Illyria in the meanwhile!” Cyril said, glancing at the trunk full of coins.

It was still on the cart and being watched by a mix of the Colwyn servants and two guards.

"It will be a lot easier for you and Father both if he could just write a check in your name and you could deposit it straight away," Cyril said as he turned back to Loid. "Not to mention, most any large purchase such as land goes through them as a mediator."

“I was already thinking of it, Mr. Colwyn, but thank you,” Loid said.

“You are welcome, Mr. Forger. Now then: toodles!” Cyril said, waving with the hand holding his fork before he, Clemencia, and Miu all left.

“Anya thinks it’s kinda weird Mr. Cyril is Mr. Colwyn’s son,” Anya said. “Anya likes Mr. Cyril.”

“Sometimes, the apple just falls very, very far from the tree,” Loid said. (Though, it could also be that this apple just hides its core better.)

Still, he wanted to give Cyril the benefit of the doubt, much as he would have to actively stop and unlearn being suspicious of everyone and everything.

“Speaking of your bounty money, Mr. Forger,” Aleina cut in. “I think I should secure this giant trunk full of coins somewhere safe until it's time to bring it to Port Illyria and guarantee Mrs. Forger's continued freedom."

“A good plan, go ahead and thank you, Captain," Loid said. "Do remember to enjoy the feast yourself, though."

Aleina smiled. “Trust me, I won’t be letting a perfectly good opportunity to party with everyone pass me by,” she said. “It’s a mistake I’ve made enough times already.”

Her face turned wistful and regretful for a moment before she recovered.

Loid decided not to press it.

Aleina and a handful of guards left with the cart in tow, Colwyn’s servants either started rolling the red carpet back toward the yacht or headed to Lord Colwyn’s location.

Loid followed the latter then spotted the Colwyn family sitting down at a long, elaborate table covered with a table cloth and adorned with magical candelabras, metal or crystalline goblets, and surrounded by other uniformed servants.

Loid presumed the rest of the diners to be the rest of Reinesburg’s rich and powerful. They were all very well-dressed, had the dignified aura of those with manners drilled into them from near-birth, and instead of heading to the buffet tables to get food, they had their servants bringing it on literal silver platters and similarly luxurious tableware.

A few of the servants noticed Loid almost immediately, his instincts flared up as he realized he was being watched back.

“They’re sizing us up,” Yor whispered, her eyes narrowing.

The two sides sized each other up for a few moments. Then, they wordlessly agreed to cease hostilities and went back to before.

“Anya, Mama, and Papa going to go to the rich people…?” Anya asked nervously.

“No, Anya,” Loid said, smiling at her. “Perhaps if we’re specifically invited, but otherwise, let’s leave them alone.”

Anya sighed, relieved.

Loid and his family may have been heroes to the town now, but he was still a new resident from dubious circumstances, and who had just married another mysterious stranger, Yor. Their combat skills and hunting achievement be damned, the rest of Reinesburg’s moneyed families seemed much warier about welcoming Loid into their households and all the risks that would involve.

“Besides, the Savanwoods promised you could be friends with their kids, didn’t they?” Loid continued.

Anya gasped before she beamed. “Yeah! New friends for Anya!”

“I’ve already smelled where they probably are,” Yor said, pointing.

“Lead the way, then, Yor,” Loid said, picking up Anya.

They moved through the crowds at a leisurely pace, stopping several times to return greetings from their new neighbors, receive congratulations for killing Ullgar and the cake from Shen, and also so many offers to come to join them for a meal sometime or a drink, to talk about the hunt for Ullgar and share other stories of danger and daring-do.

Then, they spotted Shai Li and her kids, stocky twin boys at about 10-12 years old, and much younger female triplets about 3-5 years old clinging onto various parts of Shai Li’s body. It seemed Shai Li was busy speaking to other residents until the daughter sitting on Shai Li’s head noticed the Forgers.

“Mama, Mama!” she cried, eagerly patting Shai Li’s head.

“Yes, dear?” Shai Li said as she looked up.

That daughter pointed, her sisters clinging onto Shai Li’s back or in her arm followed suit.

“Oh, it’s the Forgers! Give us a moment and I’ll be right with you!” Shai Li said, smiling before she looked up. “Good girl!”

That daughter beamed before the triplets all looked at Anya like, well, curious monkeys. It was a gesture that was eagerly reciprocated.

Shai Li said goodbye to the people she was speaking with—they were all talking in some foreign language that Loid could not understand—before she Li took her kids over to them.

“Hello again, Mr. and Mrs. Forger, and Anya, too!” Shai Li said. “You all seemed to enjoy that cake a lot earlier, huh?”

“The cake was great!” Anya said. “Anya wants to come back for another slice if there’s any left later.”

“Are you all not going to get any?” Yor asked. “It seems like it’s disappearing fast, despite how much of it Mr. Savanwood made.”

Shai Li chuckled. “Yeah, we’re god, we’ve already had a lot of it earlier today. Shen had plenty of leftovers after he made his offerings for tomorrow. Anyway: kids, introduce yourselves to the Forgers!”

“Hi, I’m Shan!” said the twin with his hair in a neat top-knot.

“And I’m Shin!” said his brother, his hair wild and unrestrained like an animal’s mane.

“Hi Shan, hi Shin!” Anya said, waving as Loid put her down.

“Song Li!” said the triplet sitting on top of Shai Li’s head. Then, she leaped off, spinning once in the air before gracefully on her feet and her tail supporting them.

Loid couldn’t help but notice her amber eyes were literally lit up in excitement, similar to Shen’s eyes.

“Shun Li,” said the triplet Shai Li was carrying in her arm, she gracefully climbed out and down her mother’s side to join her sister.

Her eyes were a cool blue like Sha Li.

“Mnm, Sying Li,” said the triplet clinging onto Sha Li’s back, where she seemed content to stay.

Her eyes were a rich brown.

Shai Li chuckled. “Don’t take it that as Sying Li not wanting to meet you, Anya. She’s just as excited as the rest, but she had too many cake ends earlier and now it’s coming back to haunt her.”

“Told you,” Song Li teased, sticking her tongue out at Sying Li.

Sying Li grumbled but made no other move.

“Hi Song Li, hi Shun Li, hi Sying Li!” Anya said, smiling and looking at each of them in turn. “Anya name is Anya!”

"As Shen mentioned earlier, all three of them are wyrde just like me,” Shai Li said. “All different elements, too, so they’d be a full quartet if Anya joins them!”

“Yeah, Anya should! Then, hunt really big monsties together with Big Bros!” Song Li said, her eyes glowing brighter than before as she got even more fired up.

“Not for several years more, you four are not!” Shai Li said.

“Okay, Mama,” Song Li murmured, pacified.

“Are you kids all planning to be hunters?" Yor asked, interested.

“Yes!” both the twins and the triplets went, flexing their developing arm muscles or their eyes literally lighting up with varying intensities.

“You could say it runs in both sides of the family,” Shai Li said, smiling. “Shen and I were both from lines of former hunters who eventually settled down to peaceful jobs, and we even met through the Hunter’s Guild and had a few memorable dates thanks to them. The boys have already joined and the triplets are eager to do so once they’re old enough.”

“You gotta have muscles, stamina, and a will that just won’t quit for running a bakery and hunting monsters both!” Shin said, puffing up his chest. “The field and the kitchen are no places for someone who isn’t prepared to get burned but still keep going until the job is done!”

“And you have to discipline, self-control, and a keen eye when it comes to making bread and going on dungeon raids, too,” Shan continued, crossing his arms and looking sagely instead. “A slip of the hand, a lapse of judgment, or an unseen detail is all it can take to dash the party’s hope of all getting back out alive and intact or to ruin a tray of what should have been delicious puff pastry.”

“Plus all the other stuff in those books Baba reads all the time!” Song Li added cheerfully.

“What books, exactly?” Loid asked.

“Oh, nothing too special, just copies of almost all the important literature in Hexien philosophy plus some of our neighbors’, too,” Shai Li replied. “’On Battle’ by Sun Xin, ’The Four Generals Under Heaven’ by Eshin, and ‘Romance of the Seven States,’ you’ve probably heard of them already at some point.

“Before you ask to borrow, Shen’s collection is all in their original languages, so I doubt you could read them. You’re probably best off finding copies in Illuminian or whatever other translation you prefer. It’ll be easy to find them and on the cheap, too, so long as you don’t want the annotated versions that are big and heavy enough to bludgeon someone to death with.”

“Getting the bigger version does sound useful if it can act as an improvised weapon, like if you’re reading at home and someone tries to attack you while you’re distracted,” Yor said.

Shai Li laughed. “Maybe you’re better off buying one of those staffs or knives that have the texts engraved on them or get it done on the knives you already own. Then you can read and fight off hypothetical ambushers, too.”

“Oh, that sounds really clever!” Yor said. “Do you think Mayor Ibroix could do that?”

“He definitely could, but maybe ask Kass, our town's blacksmith and weapons dealer, first?" Shai Li said. "She should definitely be here at the festival, too, and I think she'll still be sober enough to talk business for a while."

“Any idea where we can start?” Yor asked.

“Try wherever the alcohol is being served," Shai Li said, smiling and pointing in the direction of one of the buffet tables. "Kass' patron deity may be of the Forge and Flame, but at big parties like this, you'd swear she was a devotee of the God of Wine and Festivities instead."

The Forgers thanked her and bid farewell to the Savanwoods, promising them they’d tell them all about the hunt for Ullgar later.

Yor easily found the table where the alcohol was being served or free for the taking, thanks to just how much of it had been prepared for the occasion. As Loid took a glance at what was available, he guessed Reinesburg had ordered a little bit of everything from everywhere.

There were barrels of fruit wines, barrels of beer, jars and animal horns full of mead, bottles of rice wine, bottles of liquors, and specially-sealed vials of alcoholic vapors.

(The last one was for those that could not physically drink liquids or were better not doing so, as some umbrans were.)

Some were grabbing bottles to go, some were having them poured out into glasses or bottles, and some of them were sharing from a single container, like Kass and Gazyl sharing a bowl of some fruit wine.

“Heeeyyy, Forger, Yor, and Anya, too!” Gazyl slurred, giggling to himself as his tail and ears swayed and twitched randomly. “Come to have a celebratory drink after that cake? Try some of ours, it’s premium wine from Genadoria that Kass paid Vishafell to hunt down earlier.”

“Obviously, not from their most prized harvests, taken out from deep within the hearts of their most sacred temples, but delicious all the same,” Kass said, smiling as she held up the bowl to them.

“Gladly!” Yor said, taking it. “I can’t remember the last time I had wine—though I guess that goes for everything else before I came here. Anyway, cheers!” she cried before she tilted it back into her mouth.

Loid and Anya’s eyes gradually widened as they realized Yor had drained the bowl in just a few seconds.

“Pwah!” Yor said, her ears flopping slightly as her cheeks flushed bright red. “That was great!” she said, handing the empty bowl back.

“And it seems you’re a real lightweight, Yor,” Gazyl said, chuckling as he reached for an extremely tall jug and refilled the bowl. “Want some, too, Forger?”

“If you’re offering, thank you,” Loid said as he took the bowl, drank a small, polite amount, then handed it back.

Kass took it and asked, “I’m supposing you two weren’t just looking for alcohol and good company to share it with?”

“Yeesss…!” Yor slurred, nodding. “I was gonna ask if you could engrave words on my knives, so I can read them, kill things, and kill things trying to attack me while I’m reading! Oh, maybe I can kill and read at the same time!”

Gazyl laughed before he started drinking again.

Kass, meanwhile, took Yor a bit more seriously. "It depends on what you want to be engraved and the language," she said. "If they are meant to be words of power, it will cost a significant sum and the material for your knives must be strong enough to contain the magic within them, lest they shatter in the process or break faster than you’d like.

“If they’re meant to be normal words, for sentimentality, it will be quite cheap, compared to the cost of a new engraved knife or set of them.” Then, her face darkened as she added, "However if it's in Hexien, seek some other blacksmith.”

“What’s the matter?” Yor said.

“The number of strokes in each character and the way they totally change meaning from the slightest mistake or being put in the wrong order makes them nightmarish challenges for blacksmiths," Kass said as Gazyl handed her the bowl. "I am no stranger to hardship and suffering but I am not a masochist, unlike my counterparts from the Hexie Alliance."

“In short, you should go shopping in Port Illyria if you really want to hurt someone with words,” Gazyl said. “Then, you’ll be spoiled for choice for what language and what type of weapon, too.”

“We’ll go see if we have the time,” Loid said before he looked at Yor. “By the way, do you two happen to know if there’s anyone here that can help with intoxication?”

“Nihls and the Temple of the Dark Mother have got you covered," Gazyl said, pointing at a tent in a secluded, quiet, out-of-the-way corner, a bit of a walk from the festivities. "They've always got healers and cures stocked up, for when someone inevitably parties too hard."

“Thank you,” Loid said. “Yor, it’s time for us to go.”

“Already?!” Yor whined, looking distressed.

Loid felt an unusual tug in his heart but resisted the force. “Yes, already. We still have plenty of people to meet and greet before the feast is over, after all.”

“Anya wants to meet as many new friends as possible tonight, Mama!” Anya added.

“Oh, alright...” Yor said. “Can I get some wine to go, though?” she asked, turning to Gazyl and Kass.

“Yeah, go ahead, sister,” Gazyl said, holding out the mostly full bowl.

“Thanks!” Yor said before she ignored the bowl and grabbed the jug instead, cradling it with both arms before drinking straight from its mouth.

Loid let himself have a little laugh at the shocked looks on Gazyl and Kass's faces. "Good night to you both," he said before he picked up Anya with one hand, put the other on Yor's shoulder, and headed for the medical tent.

Chapter Text

Yor cradled the jar of wine like it was a precious newborn and ferociously guarded it with the same intensity. Anyone that tried to ask for some of its contents or worse, jokingly reached out to it, was quickly rebuffed or threatened with narrowed eyes, pulled back ears, and lips curling into a snarl.

Loid found it both a bit worrying (and enticing, for reasons he could not explain and decided to investigate at a later date). It weighed on his mind as he kept Anya from accidentally being smacked around by the crowds or Yor potentially causing a violent incident if someone set her off accidentally.

Thankfully, they safely made it through the thickest, rowdiest parts of the festival grounds to a quieter, calmer section, separated by some rope barriers to prevent people from wandering in.

Here, “partying” seemed to mean gathering together in small groups with quiet to no conversation, if the party-goers weren’t alone and hiding in corners, on the tops of buildings, or almost literally melting into the shadows, where Loid might not have noticed them if they weren’t eating or drinking.

Almost like how it was portrayed in cartoons, a drumstick seemed to hover in midair before a chunk was suddenly bitten off it, or a floating cup of wine was poured out but the liquid mysteriously disappeared.

Some of them didn’t seem too pleased to be stared at, even if Loid couldn’t see them directly and had to rely on his other senses. And as someone who was trying to live a new life as a polite, friendly, normal family man, Loid quickly looked away from them and quietly urged Anya and Yor to do the same.

Though, he couldn’t help but wonder: how differently did this world develop, with not just magic, but several sentient species and civilizations who lived and thrived in the dark of night? How did their respective cultures develop? And were they always as separated as it was here in Reinesburg or did other settlements find a way to peacefully coexist on the same lands, despite their daily schedules inherently being polar of each other?

There were still so many things about the technology, the cultures, and the inhabitants of this world that Loid had yet to learn.

And for once in far, far too long, he found himself eager to learn not to feel secure or to be ahead of his enemies, but because he wanted to know and thought the answers would be worth knowing for their own sake.

He hoped Port Illyria had public libraries and especially that Reinesburg had one, even if it was smaller by comparison. Aside from Loid's intellectual enrichment, it would be a great opportunity to bond with Anya and ensure she had the advantages of a good education at best or knew all of this world's common sense, at least.

And perhaps he should ask if Yor was going to be up for it, to make it a family bonding event.

Of course, all of that relied on Yor remaining a free woman and Loid not being saddled with any more tremendous amounts of bail to pay and legal loopholes to find and jump through, so he quickly brought his focus back to escorting his new wife to the medical tent.

Like the town hall, it was half in light, and half in dark, the split even more noticeable thanks to the wooden divider in the center and the lampshades that kept most of the bright lights to the lumen side. And in the center of that divide, on a table in front of the entrance was Nihls, sitting by a display stand full of alchemicals in bottles, cloth bags, and small boxes, and still in the same laboratory equipment as earlier that day.

“Hello again, Mr. Forger and family,” Nihls said as they approached. “My. It seems someone was intending to bring the party with them, weren’t they?”

“I sure was!” Yor said before punctuating it with another deep drink of her giant vase of wine before sighing happily. “Go get your own if you want a drink, though,” she added as she protectively hugged it again.

“Relax. I won’t be drinking, for now,” Nihls replied, waving a hand dismissively. “My current involvement with alcohol, is sparing people from its wrath, come now or come morning.”

“Do you happen to have anything that can help Yor right now, Mr. Nihls?” Loid asked. “I didn’t realize she was such a lightweight and I’m afraid she may drunkenly commit a crime or just cause a public disturbance.”

“Anya really doesn’t want to get in trouble again,” Anya added as Loid carried her in one arm.

“I’ll be fine, you two…!” Yor slurred. “I’m drinking responsibly tonight!”

And then, Yor tilted herself and the jar of wine back, since it seemed it was already half empty.

Loid watched with a mix of annoyance and worry. “This is ‘responsible’ for you…?” he asked.

Still clutching the jar, Yor gave him a thumbs up with one hand.

“And to play devil’s advocate, Mr. Forger,” Nihls butt-in, “she is still standing, intelligible, and capable of holding a conversation. Which is more than I can say, for some of those resting back there,” he said, chuckling as he glanced back at the tent.

“See?” Yor said after she put down the jar. “Responsible!”

“If only relatively,” Nihls added.

Yor did not seem to catch that, Loid decided to ignore it.

“So, do you have any products that cure inebriation?” Loid asked, glancing at the large selection of treatments.

“Unfortunately, no,” Nihls said. “Drunkenness, before alcohol poisoning, is a very delicate condition to cure. Or, at least with alchemy. Too many variables to calculate a proper dosage, especially without medical equipment or patient records.”

Loid sighed. “Fair enough. Is there someone here that can help us, then?”

“Theoretically, I could,” a woman in purple-black robes said, as she came out from the umbran side of the medical tent. “However, in my professional opinion as a Doctor of Medical Magics: there’s no Detoxify spell that will work for long without removing the root cause first,” she said, pointing at Yor with a smile.

By coincidence, she was drinking from the jar, tilting it back further and further but staying standing

“Do you think you can do it?” the woman asked.

“I’ll try,” Loid asked. “Yor, any chance you could please stop drinking tonight?”

Yor responded by lowering the jar enough to see past its brim at Loid, then quietly narrowing her eyes as her ears pulled back.

Loid sighed and quietly resigned himself to his fate. “I suppose I have failed, Ms…?”

“Talina Nezerai,” the woman replied, putting a hand to her chest and bowing slightly. “ You may refer to me as just Sister Tali. I am Head Priestess here in Reinesburg’s Temple of the Dark Mother, and for tonight’s feast, the one running the medical tent here.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you while you’re conscious, Mr. Forger,” Sister Tali said, smiling. “I’ve been wondering when I could, since your eventful entrance yesterday.”

“And I’m also happy to be meeting you while awake and lucid, Sister Tali,” Loid said, nodding slightly. “Am I correct to assume you’d rather not shake hands?”

"Yes," Sister Tali said, nodding. "It is both in respect to Qiel'solai's customs and courtesy to you. These hands have been to some interesting places today and will continue to have some daring adventures yet tonight.”

“Is that why Sister Tali’s face is all weird?” Anya asked, pointing. “There’s so much weird black stuff there.”

“Anya!” Loid snapped quietly.

“Oh, so everyone else could see the black stuff, too?” Yor slurred. “I was wondering whether I would have had to stop drinking soon. Turns out I don’t! Hooray!”

Then, she celebrated with yet another drink from her jar.

Loid blushed while Sister Tali, thankfully, just looked amused by it all.

“My apologies for my daughter and my wife’s insensitive words, Sister Tali,” Loid said.

“And forgiveness is given, though no wrong was committed,” Sister Tali replied. “It’s very rare indeed that a new acquaintance doesn’t notice nor ask about the ‘black stuff’ on my face, so you know.”

“So what is it?” Anya asked.

“Just a permanent reminder of my past mistakes, little one,” Sister Tali said, gingerly touching the black marks on her face. They looked like someone had stained her veins and her dark brown skin with black ink. “It’s a long, dark story and one you don’t need to hear right now, especially since is a time of celebration.

“Feel free to stop by our town's Temple of the Dark Mother with your parents sometime soon, though! I can tell you the story while we create your medical records and give you all check-ups."

“Is Sister Tali going to do tests…?” Anya cried, suddenly fearful and clinging to Loid.

“Just simple ones to check your health!” Sister Tali said calmly. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve all been through much, so it’ll be for the best if we know if there are any sort of potential problems that can’t be seen with the naked eye or felt until it’s already too late.”

“Mmm...” Anya whined, unconvinced. “Anya doesn’t like tests...”

“You’re going to have to learn how to deal with them, Anya,” Loid said. “And as I said before, I’ll be with you then.”

“And I can be there, too!” Yor piped up. “If anyone tries to do anything funny to you or hurt you, I swear I can beat them up!”

“Mama promises?” Anya asked, curious and hesitantly hopeful.

“I promise,” Yor said, petting Anya on the head with one hand.

Anya closed her eyes and hummed, soothed.

As sweet as the moment was, though, Loid found he needed to say, “Please don’t attack the Temple’s staff, Yor.”

Sister Tali chuckled. “We can always just make sure we have our sturdier healers and assistants attending to your family. For some of us, broken bones and missing limbs are but a minor inconvenience.”

“That’d be good,” Yor murmured. “I always accidentally broke my little brother’s bones all the time when we were young, so your doctors will probably have no problem doing their tests!”

Anya whimpered. “Anya wants to go back to the party where everyone else is now,” she said.

“Me too!” Yor said. “This wine’s running out and I want to get more.”

“More?!” Loid asked, stunned.

“It seems her affinity for poison, is not just for hunting,” Nihls said, amused and smiling underneath his ever-present mask. Then, he reached out to a bottle on the display and handed it over. “Hangover Cure, for tomorrow morning. Combine with hydrating fluids and healthy food, for best effects.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nihls,” Loid said as he took it and pocketed it. “How much do I owe you?”

“No charge for anything, for tonight. Tomorrow, however, there is,” Nihls said.

“So if anyone has the good sense of stopping by the medical tent before or while they’re drunk, they can get hangover cures and other useful items for free, but tomorrow, when they’re hungover, desperate, and likely need to get back to work, there is a charge?” Loid asked.

“Yes!” Nihls said cheerfully. “It’s a very profitable arrangement, between me and the Vishafells. They procure the alcohol for tonight and give it out for free, we sell relief the morning after at a price.”

“I didn’t take you two to be so cunning,” Loid said.

“We like to think of it more as, ‘taking advantage of the inevitable,’” Nihls said. “Even if we did not, they will drink, then they will regret.”

“Papa?” Anya asked, anxiously tugging at Loid’s sleeve.

Loid nodded at her then turned back to the others. “We’re leaving now. Goodbye, Mr. Nihls, Sister Tali.”

“Do enjoy the party, everyone,” Nihls said.

“And keep safe!" Sister Tali said, waving as they left. "I hope we'll see you next at the Temple instead of this tent."

They returned to the town square, where everyone had finished their greeting and catching up with their neighbors and friends from both sides of Reinesburg, almost everyone had settled down to eat at the tables or sit on the benches, planters, and stairs.

The Forgers sat down with Gazyl at two separate tables, one meant for the adults, the other for the children, both sides intent on hearing the story of how the hunt for Ullgar, oftentimes bearing gifts like drinks and sweets. For what seemed like hours, the four of them were constantly recounting the story, answering a deluge of questions, and trying to eat something in between.

And aside from having to keep his and Anya’s supposed “history” straight and monitoring Yor’s impressive, worrying alcohol intake, Loid found it was a rather enjoyable time, most especially for Anya who now had a huge list of potential friends in town.

Like all good things, however, it had to come to an end eventually.

Stomachs would get full, people and their kids would get sleepy, and more importantly, the townsfolk that was supposed to clean everything up wanted to get to their beds or clock out at a reasonable hour.

“You all go on ahead of us,” Mrs. Polly said to Loid as she and Jack cleared out the buffet tables. “It wouldn’t be fair to rob little Anya of a good night’s sleep, after how much fun she had tonight.”

“Yes, it won’t be,” Loid said, looking at Anya curled asleep in his arm, her own clutching Mr. Chimera.

Loid allowed himself a pause to savor the moment and smile. Then, he turned around and said, “Gazyl, we’re going home.”

“Ooh, finally!” Gazyl said as he carried a too-drunk-to-stand Yor on his back. “Come on, Yor! Time to go home!”

“But there’s still so many drinks people owe me…!” Yor slurred as she held half-empty bottles of alcohol in both hands.

“You can get them tomorrow!” Gazyl yelled.

“But I can get to them tonight!” Yor replied.

Anya stirred in her sleep, but thankfully it didn’t seem to wake her up.

Eventually, they got back to the Paladias home, Gazyl split ways after he got Yor into the guest room’s bed and shut the door behind him.

“Good luck, buddy!” he said as he rubbed his shoulders. “She’s your problem, now.”

“Thank you, Gazyl,” Loid said before he ascended the stairs to the attic.

He changed Anya out of her clothes and into the new sleepwear Vahlen had made for them, Anya’s was a light blue dress with a matching nightcap. Loid debated taking off the cones that always seemed to be on her head before he ultimately decided to just fit the cap over it.

(They might be important to her, somehow,) Loid thought before he tucked her and Mr. Chimera into bed.

Then, he picked up the bag with his and Yor’s sleepwear, turned off the light on his way down from the attic, then stood before the guest room door, quietly bracing himself for what was his honeymoon night with his new wife.

“His new wife.”

It sounded so alien and improbable to Loid, after having lived all of his adult life as a professional liar and a charlatan. The only time Loid had ever had to seriously consider marriage was that ill-formed, ultimately scrapped plan to attempt to keep the peace between Ostania and Westalia.

Had he still been in Ostania, in his original world, he likely would have never married or even considered romance as anything beyond a means to an end. It was just another tool in his kit to manipulate targets and those around them to serve the greater good.

But, he was in Lumania now, no longer a spy, and now, just a father and a husband with a family he fully intended to take care of for however long this second chance at life would last him.

He took a deep breath, let it go, and knocked on the door. “Yor?” he asked. “May I come in?”

“Go ahead…!” Yor chirped from behind it. “I’m already ready!”

(Ready for what?) Loid thought to himself before he opened the door and turned on the light.

Yor was laying on her side on one half of the double bed, completely naked, her dress, her underwear, and the now-empty bottles of alcohol were haphazardly tossed on the floor.

Yor posed in such a way that Loid could very easily see the impressive curvatures of her front and her back, alongside where exactly on her arms and legs the fur transitioned into thinner hairs and exposed her human-like skin, where exactly on her lower back her tail sprouted from, and all the many hard, chiseled lines of her muscles.

(Ah, ready for that, of course,) Loid thought.

“Well?” Yor asked, her lips slowly curling into a smile as she slowly lowered her eyelids. “Are you ready?”

As a spy, part of Loid’s intensive training had been figuring out how best to overcome and control as much of his bodily functions as possible.

Loid could not totally stop himself from feeling flustered, but he could calm himself down, slow his mind down, and redirect all the blood that was trying to simultaneously flush into his cheeks and go in the completely opposite direction.

“You got excited just now, didn’t you?” Yor said, crawling on all fours to the foot of the bed.

Loid quietly cleared his throat and focused on Yor’s face, and not on the many other points of Yor’s body his eyes were being almost magnetically drawn to. “No, I was just surprised,” he said calmly as he stepped in, shut the door behind him, and locked it. “I didn’t expect you would be sleeping in the nude, Yor, not that that’s a problem.”

Yor's aura changed subtly, and she chuckled. "You’re not fooling me. These ears, eyes, and nose can sense a lot more than you think.”

In the old context of his spy work, Loid would have found this incredibly threatening and concerning.

In this new context, Loid still found it concerning but not quite as threatening—the opposite, really.

“My apologies, then,” Loid said. “I was just trying to see if I couldn’t crack a quick joke.”

“Very funny,” Yor said calmly, not amused, but not angry, either. “I’m not joking, though,” she said as she sat on the backs of her knees, then leaned back with her chest thrust out. “It’s our honeymoon, so I’m all yours.”

Then, suddenly embarrassed, she looked away and muttered, “I mean, that’s how this is supposed to go, right…?”

Again, Loid found himself wrestling with his body’s automatic, instinctive responses. He thought back to the magical abilities his body had been granted—or perhaps, remade with, considering he bore no scars of the shrapnel that killed him in Berlint—and all of Water magic’s control over fluids and ability to manipulate and heal his body.

Would that also apply to controlling his blood flow, even to very specific parts?

… It did, and Loid filed that away as very useful information.

“… Is something wrong?” Yor asked, worried now.

How long had Loid been wrestling with himself? Too long, it seems like. Silence after a question could only stretch for so long before it became an answer in itself.

“Is it because I’m a warbeast and you don’t like the parts of me that are all covered in fur?” Yor asked. Before Loid could formulate a response to that, she continued, “I didn’t say this earlier, but those bandits that found me said the rest of me is just like a human’s, so just ignore all the fur.”

That completely changed whatever track Loid’s mind had been racing on.

“Oh, no,” Loid said, his face immediately turning to worry. “Yor, did those bandits try to rape you?”

“No, they tried to eat me,” Yor replied calmly. “Some of them kept talking about how they wanted a piece of my butt. But don’t worry, me and Gazyl killed them all before they could even try to get rid of my clothes, so I’m not too bothered by it!” she said, smiling genuinely.

Loid now knew why Yor didn’t want to explain that with Anya in the room, albeit not for the reasons Yor thought.

“So, um,” Yor said, the smile fading back into worry. “Do you still want to have sex with me? … Or, do you not want to…?”

Loid sighed. “… Yor, please, just give me a few moments to think of an answer and get changed,” he said as he rifled through the bag. “Also, could you please put this on?” he asked as he pulled out the nightgown Vahlen had made.

It was a very practical, boring sort of nightgown, very loose and formless to comfortably accommodate Yor’s many ample curves and hard edges.

“Okay...” Yor said as she took it from Loid, looking more embarrassed as her ears drooped.

Had Loid still been a spy, he would have known everything there was to know about Yor before this moment. He would have known all her buttons and how to press them to make her play into the palm of his hand and work toward whatever goal Loid was working for.

Now, however, Yor wasn’t a woman Loid was just taking advantage of and intended to leave as soon as was necessary or convenient for him. She was a woman Loid had publicly pledged to be her loving husband, with genuine intent to follow through.

And so, without first-hand or second-hand experience of any good-faith intimacy and vulnerability, and without ever having thought he would ever have to worry about it, Loid tried to solve the first real problem he’d had with his new wife.

Chapter Text

Loid and Yor had both changed into their sleepwear, both loose, comfortable dresses that hung comfortably on their shoulders. The light was still on, letting them both see the nervousness, embarrassment, and tension in both expressions faces and bodies. They ended up sitting next to each other in bed, now with their legs over the edge.

There was a bit of physical space and a vast ocean of awkwardness between them. And so, to bridge that gap, Loid decided to speak first, before Yor could come up with any more drunken assumptions or misconceptions.

“Yor?” he started as he looked at her.

Yor’s ears turned to him before the rest of her head followed suit. Was she trying not to get dizzy from the alcohol or was she reluctant to face him? Loid decided to bank on the former, to hope for the best.

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you, it’s that you’re extremely drunk right now,” Loid said. “You can’t consent, you probably won’t remember any of this, and I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow confused, embarrassed, and regretting tonight.”

Yor blinked as if that had caught her completely off guard, before she said, “Oh. I see. Is that why?”

“Yes,” Loid said, nodding.

“Huh,” Yor muttered, looking down now, “it’s because I drunk too much earlier…”

Yes,” Loid continued.

He paused for a moment, choosing to observe and plan his next move. Then, he noticed that Yor was looking increasingly distressed.

“Yor?” he asked. “What’s the matter?”

“I ruined our honeymoon night!” Yor cried, seemingly on the verge of tears now. “I promised to be your wife, even though we only got married so I won’t go to jail! And now, it hasn’t even been a full day and already I’m failing at that!”

Yor was crying now, her ears and shoulders both drooping, Loid slowly tried to reach out to Yor, careful to keep in her vision and from actually touching her right away.

Yor noticed and hesitated. “Are you trying to make me feel better…?” she asked, looking at Loid with unsure eyes.

“Yes,” Loid said. “Would you rather I not touch you?”

“I don’t know...” Yor half-sniffled, half-slurred, “I was the one that screwed up, wasn’t I?”

“That doesn’t mean excuse me from trying to comfort you, and especially poignant because I am your husband,” Loid said. “I don’t want to be the sort of man that blames his wife and denies her comfort when she clearly needs it.”

“Mm...” Yor muttered, still looking conflicted. Then, she slowly leaned into Loid’s hand.

He prepared to pat her on the back… before Yor seemed to lose her balance and fell head-first into Loid's chest.

Loid grunted as Yor landed against him. It was an accident and she didn’t fall that hard, but with how much Yor weighed, it still had a bit of an impact.

“You’re a really nice man, Loid...” Yor muttered as she nuzzled her face against Loid’s chest. She seemed to try to reach her arms around him, floundered a bit, then gave up and let them rest on her thighs. “I’m glad you chose to marry me instead of letting me go to jail.”

Loid’s heart and mind were both starting to race and he found there was little he could do to get them to calm down. Was this infatuation, that vulnerable, manipulable state of mind he’d induced in so many hapless female targets?

Loid cleared his throat, and tried to make his voice level as he said, "Would you like me to tuck you into bed so you can sleep off your drunkenness, Yor?”

“Mm-mnn," Yor grumbled. "I don't want to go to sleep yet! I want to have sex with you and make you feel good, Loid. Like a couple should on their honeymoon."

“You don’t have to,” Loid started.

He stopped as he felt Yor suddenly tense up, he felt one of her hands press down on his thighs. Yor used Loid as leverage to push herself up off his chest, then clutched his shoulder with her other hand, too.

They were now nearly face-to-face, close enough for Loid to feel the warm breaths from Yor's lips, and for his nose to flood with the smell of alcohol. Even drunk and clumsy, the Yor’s grip was firm and powerful, any more deliberate and she could have probably easily caused a bruise if not crushed the bone underneath, too.

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to, Loid,” Yor said as she slowly dragged the hand on Loid’s lap up to his chest, she pressed her palm on it and pushed Loid forward.

Thump.

Loid fell onto his back, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, Yor now crawling on top of him and putting her hands on either side of Loid’s head.

Yor blocked out most of the light from the ceiling, all Loid could see clearly was Yor's blood-red eyes, half-lidded and focused intensely on him, and the locks of loose, long black hair falling on his face and chest.

"You're a really nice, caring man. You've done so much for me despite us being strangers. And you make me feel good and warm inside, more than any of the alcohol did tonight," Yor said as she began to reposition herself, dragging her long, muscular legs across Loid's body to straddle him.

If Yor ended up putting all of her weight on Loid, he’d probably have a tough time trying to push her off him.

If he could push her off him.

And again, Loid found himself fighting against his own body, trying to use his magic to will his blood not to flow where he did not want it to.

Increasingly, however, it was getting hard to do.

With how mentally involved and taxing magic had been, perhaps the distraction was damaging his ability to use his power.

And then Yor put her waist down on top of Loid’s and completely destroyed any hope he could use it.

“You’re getting really excited...” Yor muttered as she leaned forward against Loid.

Her chest pressed up against Loid’s, he was starting to get a hands-on feel of just how thin the materials of their nightgowns were.

“You know...” Yor muttered, her lips slowly curling into a smile, “if you really want to have sex with me, you could just tell me all of this in the morning, if I forget… I’ll understand and forgive you then...”

She closed her eyes and began to close the distance between her and Loid’s mouths.

And then, Loid learned that the unconscious, instinctive uses of his magic included self-defense.

A thin cloud of freezing cold mist erupted from Loid’s skin.

Yor yelped, her almost closed eyes shooting wide open as she jumped off of Loid.

Thud.

Loid scrambled to look over the edge and saw Yor had crashed on her butt. “Are you okay, Yor?”

“I’m fine!” Yor cried, looking more bewildered than hurt. “Sorry, did I do something wrong again?”

“Yes, almost,” Loid said, sighing. “We need to do something about your drunkenness...”

“Maybe your magic will help?" Yor asked as she crawled back up to the bed and onto her stomach. "That's how you survived the Numbing Death, right?"

(And Sister Tali did mention Detoxify...) Loid thought to himself. “Maybe it’ll work. Yor, please hold still for a few minutes.”

“Okay! I’m sure I can do that, at least!” Yor said with all the drunken enthusiasm she could muster before she did.

Loid prepared his casting hand before he quickly realized there was a problem. “On second thought, Yor, maybe you should roll on your side first?”

“Okay!” Yor said before she turned to face Loid. She sighed, saying, “Huh, it’s suddenly a lot easier to breathe!"

Loid decided not to comment and put his hand on Yor's stomach. Then, he began to call upon his knowledge of alcohol and human anatomy, and then hoped that warbeast physiology was similar enough to work with it or that his magic could fill in the blanks for him.

Loid's casting arm lit up, and ice blue lines surged into Yor’s stomach, glowing on her skin for a moment before they faded.

Yor gasped but made no other reactions, even as a mysterious, magical vapor began to rise from her skin and dissipate almost instantly.

Then, a few minutes later, Loid’s gamble worked, at the cost of his casting arm aching badly. (Perhaps I should consider getting an enchanted brace after all,) he thought as he took his arm back. (Magic is just too useful to stop using it.)

Yor blinked and looked around, the red flush on her face drained away, and the look of drunken contentedness changed to confusion. “Loid…?” she asked as she slowly sat up. “What’s going on?”

“Give me a few minutes to explain...” Loid said as he cradled his arm and winced.

Just as Loid worried about, Yor’s memory was full of holes and what was there, was so lacking in context it was useless. And once he finally got to Yor’s drunken attempts at seducing him, the red returned to her face with a vengeance, before she curled up into a trembling ball of shame.

“Loid… I… I’m so sorry...” Yor whimpered.

“It was the alcohol, Yor,” Loid said quietly. “Let’s just move on from it and be thankful that we both retained enough control and sense to keep from doing something we might regret.”

“Mm,” Yor mumbled.

Loid decided to keep quiet, giving them both a few moments to process the emotions and give them a break from the awkwardness of it all. He thought this might be the end, that he’d offer to turn off the lights and the both of them could get some sleep…

“Do you still want to, though?”

… And then Yor showed it wasn’t over, not yet.

“Still want to what, now?” Loid asked, intentionally not looking at her.

It wasn’t a serious question, more a subtly thrown lifeline for Yor to grab, claiming that it was nothing or to ask Loid to ignore that.

“Do you still want to have sex?” Yor said. “I’m pretty sure I’m sober and can think clearly now. And it still is our honeymoon night.”

Loid looked at Yor.

She had come out of her ball and was trying to look at Loid directly, but she was still blushing and her ears were twitching nervously.

“That depends, Yor,” Loid said calmly. “Do you want to have sex? I’d be happy to if that’s what you want, but not if you feel obliged to do so, despite what you feel.”

“I--” Yor started before she looked away for a few moments, turned back to Loid, and said, “I do.”

“Then let’s have sex,” Loid said as he reached out and touched Yor’s arm. “Please, don’t hesitate to tell me what you’d like to do, and also don’t hesitate to tell me if you’d like to pause or stop.”

“Um, sorry, I don’t really know what I’d want to do, to you or to me,” Yor said, looking down. “This isn’t my first time, I know that much, but I don’t think I’ve had enough experience anyway.”

“Would you like me to take the lead, then?” Loid asked as he leaned in and locked eyes with her. “I’ve had plenty of experience.”

“Please,” Yor said, bashfully looking back. “I’m all yours.”

“I think we should start with some light touching and kissing,” Loid said as he tried to caress Yor’s arm, running his fingers through the silky fur on her lower arm.

Yor stiffened for a moment, Loid pulled back. Then, she relaxed, grabbed Loid’s hand, and put it back where it was.

“I’d like that. Especially the 'kiss' part," she said before she closed her eyes and puckered her lips.

And not intending to make her wait, Loid leaned in and kissed her.

He’d kissed so many women so many times, but none of them had ever felt as warm and intimate, yet electric and exciting as the first one he’d had with Yor…

… And, the morning after, Loid had never felt so exhausted, sore, and aching after sex. Though, admittedly, he’d never before bedded a woman who could casually twist him like a pretzel.

Loid thought of the potions from yesterday, two of them were greater healing potions from the hunt, one of them the recovery tonic. Then, he realized he’d left all of them on the dresser, a short walk away that may as well have been an impassable chasm with how much he hurt all over.

He cursed himself for making such a rookie mistake, even more so when Yor woke up beside him with a pained, miserable groan.

“Good morning, Yor,” Loid said.

“Uughh...” Yor whimpered, opening her eyes for a moment before she squeezed them shut, her ears flattened against her head. “So bright… turn off the light again, please...”

“That’s the sun, Yor,” Loid replied.

“Then turn off the sun, please...” Yor whimpered.

“I can close the curtains,” Loid said. “Just let go of my side, first, please.”

“Mmn...” Yor grumbled, untangling her arms and legs from Loid’s.

He could feel the parts Yor had clutched aching especially hard, there were even light bruises on them like they’d just been trapped in a vice. (Which, now that he’d thought of it, wasn’t entirely wrong.)

Loid looked at the dresser and then the distance between it and the bed. He drew upon his training, used his mind to ignore and overcome physical pain, to keep pushing and accomplish his goal despite his whole body telling him it was far past time to quit.

Loid got his legs over the side, pushed off the bed with his hands… and then promptly fell face-first on the floor.

Thud.

“Loid…?” Yor asked. “What was that?”

“Legs gave out,” Loid said as he put his hands on the floor. “Don’t worry about it.”

He tried to push himself up, will his body once more to keep going and surpass its limits…

Thud.

… But, it seemed this was a case where matter won over the mind, even his magic seemed to have been too drained to be of any help.

Knock-knock-knock.

“Mr. and Mrs. Forger?” Jack asked through the door. “Are you two alright in there? I heard two loud bangs just now!”

Loid turned his head to the door and said, “No, and we could use your help, Mr. Paladia. Mind that the door’s locked and we’re both naked.”

“Right, right, got it,” Jack said calmly. “Let me get the key, I'll be right back."

And so, fifteen minutes or so later, Loid and Yor were both clothed and sitting side-by-side at one of the tables downstairs.

Loid was wearing his shirt and pants, slumping in his seat as his legs had yet to recover their full strength even with a greater healing potion and the tonic. Meanwhile, Yor looked absolutely miserable as she nursed a cup of “soothing” tea that Mrs. Polly had brewed, to supplement Nihls’ hangover cure.

It seemed that, unlike the healing potions, neither were instant or fast-acting remedies.

Across them, Anya looked concerned. “Mama and Papa both look terrible.”

“We know, Anya,” Loid said, while Yor groaned in agreement.

“Did something happen last night?” Anya asked. “Anya thinks those loud sounds last night weren’t a dream, after all.”

“They probably weren’t,” Loid said. “That may have been Papa and Mama downstairs. Sorry, Anya.”

“Sorry...” Yor groaned.

“What were Mama and Papa doing?” Anya asked, concerned.

“We were having sex, Anya,” Loid said. “It’s a thing that grown-ups do in private when they love each other very much and want to make each other feel good.”

“Is it?” Anya asked, confused. “Because Mama and Papa don’t look like Mama and Papa made each other feel very good.”

“… That’s because sex is complicated and you’re too young to understand it right now, Anya,” Loid said.

Anya looked unsatisfied by that.

“You know, we could get little Anya some earplugs so there won’t be as much of a problem in the future,” Mrs. Polly said as she and Jack came in with dishes and bowls full of breakfast. “And we could always consider getting some construction work done on the house, so everything’s a bit more soundproof and impact-absorbing.”

“I think that’s a little excessive, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said, blushing.

Mrs. Polly chuckled. “The Savanwoods would beg to differ!” she said as she and Jack started laying out dishes. “I heard that even if Shen wasn’t already such a big man who could shake the foundations just by running or jumping, the carpenters would still have had a hard time trying to find wood to make furniture and upper floors sturdy enough to survive him and Shai Li doing as married couples do, let alone for years.”

Her tone implied she was mostly having fun, but Loid did not believe she was joking about the rest.

“Speaking of all this,” Mrs. Polly said as she started ladling out servings on plates. “You two aren’t trying to add another little one into the family any time soon, right?”

Yor’s eyes went from squinting to block out the light to wide-open in a second.

“I was planning to stop by the general store to solve that!” Loid said quickly. “I know contraception was on the shelf of alchemicals.”

Yor relaxed, if only somewhat.

“Though, now I wonder if we shouldn’t just stop by the Temple of the Dark Mother and get it from there, instead, for however many other medical problems we have,” Loid said, looking at himself then Yor.

“That sounds wise! I want you two at your best later,” Mrs. Polly said as she sat down. “We’re not opening tonight since it’s Wednesday, but it’ll be a great time to start getting you up to speed with how things work here and teaching you my recipes.”

Anya whined. "Do Anya, Mama, and Papa really have to go the place with all the tests?" she asked.

“Yes, Anya,” Loid said.

Anya whimpered again.

Loid made a note to investigate just what got Anya so jumpy and hesitant about medical tests. There was normal childhood reluctance to go to the doctor but this seemed more in line with a traumatic response. He’d need to know what caused it to help keep up the ruse as her biological father who’d always been with her, and more importantly, he was going to make sure she didn’t grow with untreated PTSD as he had, she wouldn’t become a broken woman held together by determination, luck, and circumstance.

And so, as if it were the most important mission he’d ever had, Loid started planning how to navigate Anya’s first doctor’s appointment.

Chapter Text

As the primary source of healthcare in Reinesburg, the Temple of the Dark Mother was inevitably on the list of dedicated stops for the ferries. The Forgers merely needed to get to the nearest dock from the Paladias home, wait for a ferry, find a shady row of seats, then relax until they arrived.

Or, at least, Yor could relax.

She was napping while Loid struggled to deal with Anya being jumpy and nervous as she sat beside him and clutched Mr. Chimera.

Thankfully, it wasn’t to the extent where Loid needed to worry about Anya trying to escape, but it was still concerning. Just what could have happened that made Anya so jumpy around the prospect of hospitals and medical tests…?

This was not something he could have figured out from context and observation alone, so like their first day together, Loid decided to take the risk of triggering bad memories. So, after he was certain that Yor was still out and probably wouldn’t understand their conversation, he tapped Anya’s shoulder and whispered,

“Anya?”

Anya quietly looked at him.

“Can I ask why are you so afraid of tests?” Loid asked.

Again, Anya's eyes widened, and her expression morphed to one of fear, she violently trembled and started curling up into herself, closed her eyes, and buried her face into Mr. Chimera.

“Really Bad People...” Anya whimpered.

And with that, Loid understood, he quietly hugged Anya and patted her back as she started sobbing.

As a former spy, tasked with investigating and stopping any and all crimes, corruption, and subterfuge threatening Westalia and its interests, Loid had seen deep into the depths of inhumanity, what horrors the most morally bankrupt, greedy, and deluded people could willfully inflict or just leave in their wake without a second thought and so much as a stone's weight on their conscience.

Surviving as a young war orphan, without a home, in the middle of an inhumane conflict had prepared him for it.

His training as a spy had only sought to further harden him, to brace himself for the cruel, shocking, sometimes absurd realities of a spy dealing in uncovering and acting on classified information, how the most terrifying crimes could have such cruel, petty, or irrational motivations if there were any sense to be found at all.

His missions had proven to him that nothing could fully prepare him for what would happen or had happened. That nothing would ever completely numb him from the shock, the anger, and the horror. That there was no time to be human and feel his emotions in the moment of a mission, sometimes even long after the operation was closed or aborted.

There was only keeping his mind focused on the mission and doing what needed to be done, despite all of it.

And even now, he had no time to be angry, in no place to let the deep rage bubbling up inside him overflow and consume him, and knew that no good that could come out of surrendering himself to the temptation.

Because right now, he needed to rise above his emotions, to be stronger than a normal man, to be strong for his daughter who was too young and vulnerable to be strong. Even more because through tragedy, malice, and/or callousness, the adults that should have been there for Anya had already failed her.

Agent Twilight was always called when a botched operation could not be failed twice or an operation could not fail at all.

And even without a higher authority compelling him, a greater goal far larger than he would ever be, Loid Forger was not going to fail in raising Anya correctly.

“It’s going to be alright, Anya,” Loid said as he leaned down and kissed the top of Anya’s head. “Papa’s going to be here with you.”

Anya whimpered and stayed in his arms.

Eventually, they made it to the Temple of the Dark Mother, Loid shook Yor awake before they stepped off the ferry and onto the dock. (Anya was walking with them, with neither parent in any state to carry her.)

Like with Reinesburg Town Hall, Loid first took a good look at the building from a distance.

He had been wondering just what it could look like in this world, especially since organized religion was a necessary part of society and daily life regardless of if you believed in a different faith or didn’t believe in anything at all.

And the answer was, that the Temple was a large, sprawling, elaborate mansion-like building made of brick and stone. It had three floors total, several spires from its roof rising even higher with various instruments or pipes atop their roofs, and countless additional facilities surrounding the main building, connected via bridges, covered walkways, and (Loid would later learn), underground passages dry and flooded both, for those residents where even the slightest bit of sunlight was unbearable to outright deadly.

There were countless windows, but there were no lights in them, no open curtains letting you peer inside, just the silhouettes of figures and the outlines of mysterious machines and furnishings that Loid couldn’t imagine what they looked like, and more so, what they would do and who they were intended to be used on.

The only exception to all this darkness and mystery was a bright lamp atop the open double doors. It was modeled after the lights used by outposts, roadside inns, and houses with room to spare for strangers, a near-universally understood message even outside Lumania:

“Come, safety is here.”

And so, despite Anya’s increasing reluctance and nervousness and Yor being physically pained by the few rays of sunshine here, Loid answered the light’s beckoning and went up the cobblestone path.

Alongside the shade-loving plants thriving and blooming on the sides for decoration, the Temple of the Dark Mother had two stone statues just in front of the doors, each perched on a stone post with magical gems embedded into it.

It seems that this world also developed the practice of scaring off evil spirits with frightening images, as they both looked rather monstrous. Their bodies were humanoid, their mouths full of fangs, their eyes the sharp angles of predators, their tails and wings with spiked ends, and their hands and feet clawed to catch and tear apart their prey.

They didn’t look prepared to strike or devour you, but the faces certainly said they weren’t tolerating any funny business.

And then their gray, stone-like hue turned into bright, inhuman skin colors of bright green and fiery orange and their uniforms turned back to the fabric as well, they came out of their crouching poses to smile and wave.

“Heeey,” the Green Guard said, “it’s the Forgers again! Partied too hard last night, eh?”

“Yes, we did,” Loid replied, hiding his surprise.

“Don’t worry about it too much, buddy,” the Orange Guard said, “we’ve already had staff prepared to deal with hangovers, indigestion, and morning-after regrets since before the sun rose today. Just head on in and you’ll find someone to be with you toot suite.”

“Try asking for Sister Tali,” the Green Guard added. “She’s been interested in you three something fierce. Though, I suppose you could say that for everybody in town since you folks are such an interesting trio.”

“We will, thank you,” Loid said. “Please, excuse us, we’re heading inside now.”

“Welcome to the Temple of the Dark Mother!” the two guards said before they returned to their poses earlier, putting their “business” faces back on before they turned back to stone.

“Is it just me or were those statues actually alive…?” Yor muttered as they passed them.

“It wasn’t just you, they were,” Loid said.

“Oh, okay,” Yor said, relaxing. “That’s a relief.”

Loid was not as soothed.

He was no stranger to people pretending to be inanimate objects, either doing it himself or being ambushed by supposedly empty suits of armor and odd "statues." He didn't know how to feel about this world having animate, thinking objects, or perhaps living beings that could transform into them, and more so that they were a normal fixture.

Still, he did not let the nervousness or the bewilderment show.

He would not out himself so easily as an alien to this world, a stranger thrust into a realm completely different from everything he’d known.

And he most especially didn’t want Anya any more spooked than she already was, Loid knew very well how infectious emotions could be.

“Papa?” Anya asked.

“Yes, Anya?” Loid asked as he looked down at her.

“Anya can tell Papa out where the things that are actually alive are if Papa wants?" Anya asked.

“You can detect them?” Loid asked.

“Mm,” Anya said, nodding.

Loid had no idea how she did that. Maybe it was because she was a native of this world and a magia for all of her short life, Anya could just sense things that Loid was not yet used to detecting. It had taken him a relatively short while to figure out the ebb and flow of mana in the environment and how it now naturally coursed through his veins.

And while Anya outing any living objects would certainly be useful for the sake of Loid’s sanity and stress levels… perhaps it was more useful as a distraction for Anya. An occupied mind would have little time to linger on worries and fears.

“Go ahead, Anya,” Loid said. “Just point and say when you think an object is actually alive."

“Mmm!” Anya said. “Leave it to Anya! And Mr. Chimera, too!”

And so, they stepped through the doors and into the entrance hall of the Temple of the Dark Mother.

It was a large, rectangular space, with a large aisle in the center and several rows of wooden benches on its sides, placed between and around tall columns holding the second floor up. There were at least four wings that Loid could see, marked and separated by more open doors.

There were many lamps and other light sources, but most of them seemed intentionally turned off or angled so there were huge pockets of darkness and long, deep shadows to hide and walk around in. The only clearly lit path led you straight to the far end of the entrance hall with the room’s centerpiece:

Twin curving staircases, between which was a wooden reception desk, and behind that a large statue.

As the Forgers walked up to the desk, Loid took in the statue. It was of a woman in long, voluminous robes, kneeling with her arms spread out as if to invite someone to her embrace or reach out to them. The hood was up and a veil was over her face, covering everything but a small, gentle smile.

There was a spotlight over the reception desk, presumably so the staff could clearly see what they were reading and writing. Loid noticed the shade was curved and angled so the statue remained almost entirely in darkness, you could barely make out her details unless you looked intently or had training or a natural ability to see in poor light.

If that was the Dark Mother this Temple was built for, Loid was curious to know why it seemed against the usual conventions of displaying a statue as if they were trying to hide it, not show it off.

And speaking of statues, several more objects they passed along the way weren’t as inanimate as Loid thought.

“That statue's alive," Anya said quietly, pointing at another crouched figure on the second floor, perched on a corner of the guard rails like a simple decoration.

“That wheelchair’s alive, too,” Anya said, pointing at one rolling along the hallway while its elderly passenger was deep asleep and snoring.

“That sword’s alive, too,” Anya said, pointing at a guard who had the weapon on his belt.

He noticed Anya, smiled, and with his thumb unsheathed a few centimeters of the blade.

Admirably sharp senses, Little One, just like your Father’s.

The “voice,” Loid did not hear with his ears so much as it seemed like it was transmitted directly into his brain. It was as if he was recalling a memory of someone speaking, but it was from the mind of someone else.

Upon closer inspection, the sword had an inscription carved on its flat, the words glowed for a few moments before they faded and the guard sheathed it again.

Anya seemed pleased with the compliment, Loid was creeped out.

Once more, he was caught off-guard by just what “normal” was in this world. Assuming Anya’s response was normal. Or at the very least, acceptable or tolerable, especially since they were in umbran territory.

He really needed to find a library and books about manners, etiquette, and cultural sensitivity at some point, preferably soon.

“Did something happen, you two?” Yor asked. “I think I missed something.”

“Mr. Sword spoke to Anya and Papa,” Anya said. “Maybe Mama couldn’t hear Mr. Sword because Mama doesn’t have magic.”

“Mm, that makes sense,” Yor said, nodding. “Was Mr. Sword nice, at least?”

“Yeah!” Anya said. “Mr. Sword said Anya had ‘sharp senses’ like Papa.”

“That’s good!” Yor said. “I’ve never had to ask a sword to apologize before. Or do I have to ask its swordsman to apologize in the sword’s stead…?”

“Maybe we should worry about that when we find a rude sword,” Loid said.

That seemed to satisfy them both. Though, Loid was bugged both by the unusual sentence he’d just said in all seriousness and at a loss of just how you were supposed to ask for civility from sentient weapons. Also, if they were just items that happened to be normal items that were then possessed by spirits separate from them or if they were items that happen to have developed a soul and sentience later.

(I’m starting to realize why the umbran and lumen races live separately here in Reinesburg, polar schedules aside,) Loid thought.

They neared the counter, where two of the receptionists were already busy processing paperwork or speaking with other visitors. A third looked at them and beckoned them over with one hand wrapped completely in cloth bandages. The rest of them was similarly covered by more bandages or their uniform, except for two glowing eyes peeking through a small gap.

“Ah, the Forger family, we welcome you all to the Temple of the Dark Mother,” they said, their voice vibrating and humming like the sounds of hundreds of insects all clicking their mandibles, rubbing their hind legs or flapping their wings in sync, like an orchestra. “How may we help you today?”

“We?” Loid couldn’t help but ask.

“There’s a lot of them under their clothes, Papa,” Anya said, stretching her arm to point over the counter and at the receptionist.

“Young Miss Anya is correct,” the receptionist said, nodding with their “head.” “We are many, acting as one in this form.”

Loid puzzled over it for a moment before he asked, "Do you all have a specific name you’d like me to call all of you?”

“No, Mr. Forger,” the receptionist said, shaking their head. “We are a part of the Temple, like the forms of the others like us. Most simply refer to us as ‘Nurse’ or ‘Doctor’ or ‘Healer,’ no names as you are accustomed to.”

“… I see,” Loid said. “Moving on… we would like checkups and treatments, specifically a hangover cure and emergency contraception for my wife, Yor, and an examination for possible deep bruises and bone injuries for me.”

“Umm, you should probably focus on his waist and his hands,” Yor added sheepishly.

“Yes, that would be wise, thank you, Yor,” Loid said.

Though Loid could not see a smile from the Nurse (if they were even physically capable of smiling), the short, wordless clicks and thrum from the Nurse told Loid they found this all rather amusing.

“Of course, Mr. Forger,” the Nurse said as they reached underneath the counter. “Please, fill in these patient intake forms and we will have someone ready to see all of you. Is there anyone specific you wish to attend to you?”

“Is Sister Tali available and qualified to treat magia children?” Loid asked.

“She is, for both,” the Nurse said, nodding as they handed over three sets of papers then gestured to the pens and pencils in a cup nearby. "Please fill these out, then take a seat while we summon her and wait for an examination room to become available."

Loid nodded. “Yor, would you like me to fill yours out for you?”

“Please,” Yor said, nodding. “My head’s already throbbing enough, I’ll probably get something wrong.”

Loid nodded. Then, he looked down at Anya, and saw the increased nervousness and fidgeting, probably now that tests and examinations were imminent.

“Anya,” Loid said, “would you like to try and fill out your forms again?”

Anya did not look quite as enthusiastic about that and quickly shook her head.

“Okay, I’ll fill them in for you too, then,” Loid said before he grabbed a pen and started writing.

Anya continued to fidget. She wasn’t yet at “fearfully clutching his pant leg for comfort” nervous but certainly getting there.

“Say, that statue there certainly is interesting, isn’t it, Anya?” Loid said, glancing at the gigantic statue behind the counter.

“Huh?” Anya asked, confused.

“Here, let me help you get a better look at it,” Loid said as he stopped writing for a moment, picked up Anya, and sat her on the edge of the counter. “See it now?”

“Mm,” Anya said, nodding. “It’s a lady with a hankie over her face.”

“Who is she?” Loid asked, looking at the Nurse.

They seemed to have already gotten Loid's drift and were ready to play along. "That, Ms. Anya, is a statue of our patroness, the Dark Mother. She is the one who offers protection, sustenance, and acceptance to all who live in the darkness, as we umbrans, and for those who were shunned by the light.”

“Shunned by the what now?” Anya asked, confused.

“Shunned by the light," the Nurse replied. "It's what we say when someone is no longer welcome among lumen.

“Maybe it is because their old home rejected who they were, what they are, or what they’ve done.

“Maybe they were victims who were irreversibly changed by evildoers or tragedy, where they now scare themselves and others.

“Maybe they were always without a home, without a place to call their own, without anyone to call a friend or family through no fault of their own.

“Regardless of their circumstances of seeking the Dark Mother, so long as they are ready to accept her embrace, they will be welcome to rest, recover, and thrive in her shade and the Temples raised in her name.”

“So the veil over her face is because she’s blind, unable to see what or who comes seeking her aid?” Loid asked.

“More she willingly turns a blind eye to what or who you are,” the Nurse continued. “She still sees what you do, which is how you will be judged instead.”

“And her kneeling, compared to standing like other statues?” Loid asked.

“You cannot hope to reach out to those at their lowest if you do not lower yourself first," the Nurse hummed.

“And why is the Dark Mother Lady in so much, uhh, darkness?” Anya asked.

“Because if you wanted to bask in the light and radiance of your patroness, you would have gone to the Illuminian Faith and worship St. Lumina, instead," the Nurse said. "Also, many umbrans are very light-sensitive. To cast even a small spotlight on our Dark Mother's statue may make her so painfully bright they cannot see her.

“The Dark Mother turns a blind eye, she doesn’t blind others’ eyes.”

Anya nodded before she stopped and seemed to think something over. “Hey, Nurse?”

“Yes, Ms. Anya?” the Nurse replied.

“Does the Dark Mother Lady come to people who need help?” Anya asked. “Or is it other people that come to the Dark Mother Lady?”

“The second,” the Nurse said. “Unfortunately, for all her power, she must rely on her followers like us to do anything beyond her Temples. And, like the light of St. Lumina, there are many places where neither she nor us can reach.”

“Oh,” Anya said, saddened.

“But take heart," the Nurse said, reaching beneath the counter and pulling out a small piece of candy in a wrapper. "For those that do come to her temples seeking sanctuary from suffering, she and her followers will do their best to provide it, ideally so that they are never hurt again.

“Regardless of how they are hurting or who hurt them,” the Nurse said as she dropped the candy into Anya’s waiting hands.

“Thank you,” Anya said quietly, looking a lot less nervous.

For what, Loid did not know exactly, but he was grateful too, nonetheless.

Chapter Text

Sister Tali and another Nurse greeted the Forgers, then escorted them down a hall and then into an examination room. Loid had braced himself for yet more weirdness, but as they stepped inside through one of the two doors, the scene was almost anticlimactically normal.

It was a large space, probably a parlor for entertaining guests when the building was first constructed before the Temple converted it later. There were two large windows with their curtains only partially open for Yor’s sake; two examination tables; two desks for writing on; cabinets and drawers for containing supplies, documents, and medical equipment; and a rolling curtain that could be used to divide the space into two smaller examination rooms. It even had the usual posters on the walls for humanoid anatomy, checking eyesight, and information about common diseases or best practices for maintaining health.

About the only things that were alien about it were anatomical figures for tails, wings, and animal ears, infographics about mage-specific illnesses, and warnings about common diseases for specific species like warbeasts.

And as Sister Tali and the Nurse started tending to them, it continued to be as normal and unexciting as a visit to the hospital got.

They reconfirmed the information on their forms, gave Yor prescription drugs for contraception and more intensive hangover relief, and then sat the Forgers in a row on the examination table or a chair to take their vitals. They used familiar tools like stethoscopes, thermometers, weighing scales, and the like. The only real difference was that many of their key components were made of magical crystals, alchemical fluids, and frequently used some sort of monster materials like bone or scale.

Anya was tense but compliant with everything… up until the Nurse started assembling syringes and needles for collecting blood samples.

Her eyes went wide before she started trembling, shaking her head, and clutching Mr. Chimera. “Anya doesn’t want needles!” she cried.

“Ms. Anya,” Sister Tali said, still smiling and professional, “we really need to draw just a little bit of blood. It’s a very important part of making sure you’re healthy and that there aren’t any problems we can’t see.”

For some reason, Anya looked incredibly doubtful at that, outright glaring at Sister Tali.

Sister Tali seemed surprised for a moment before she shrugged, unbothered. “Alright. I know when it might be best to back off for a while. Your Papa and Mama were already going first, but for now, you can just watch us get some blood from them, okay?”

“Anya doesn’t want needles,” Anya repeated, still glaring.

Sister Tali looked at Loid, Loid couldn’t give her much but an apologetic look.

He knew he could have made a convincing story on the spot, about the cause of Anya’s phobia of medical tests… but, he also didn't want to keep bringing back all those terrible memories to the forefront and risk touching a nerve he hadn’t known he could hit.

So, for now, he rolled up his sleeve and offered his arm to the Nurse. “Go ahead, it’s only going to be a little bit of blood, after all.”

“See, you really don't need to be so afraid of needles, Anya!" Yor said as she did the same with Sister Tali. "Needles aren't that painful or dangerous unless someone's trying to inject something into you or they're trying to take a whole lot of blood out of you, which they aren't. These syringes won't even be enough to get you dizzy from blood loss!"

“Your Mama is right, Anya, this procedure is harmless,” Loid said.

He didn’t quite agree with how Yor phrased it or her logical arguments, but what did he know about this world’s standards? It didn’t seem particularly strange or odd for Sister Tali or the Nurse, either, as they were both nodding along to lend credibility.

(Violence is just an inevitable part of this world, it seems,) Loid thought.

But, even after the needles were cleanly withdrawn, the cotton balls were taped on, and the blood samples were labeled and put on a rack with no one worse for the wear, Anya continued to look upset.

“May we please draw some blood from you now, Ms. Anya?” Sister Tali asked.

“No!” Anya cried, clutching Mr. Chimera and starting to emit sparks. “Anya doesn’t want needles…!”

Everyone noticed, Loid quickly reached out to pat Anya on the head. His palm got shocked, but it wasn’t much worse than strong static and far from the debilitating shock he’d gotten on their first day.

Meanwhile, Anya was surprised but she calmed down, stopped the flow of magic, and started sulking.

“Is there any particular reason that you don’t seem to like hospitals and tests very much, Ms. Anya?” Sister Tali asked.

Anya shrank at that, burying her face into Mr. Chimera’s head.

Sister Tali frowned, and everyone else looked to Loid. "Mr. Forger… is there something we need to know about Ms. Anya’s?”

Loid sighed. “I suppose it was always going to come up at some point… Anya, would you like to leave the room for a while while I explain? I’m sure the Nurse will--”

Anya blindly clutched at Loid’s sleeve, her little fingers digging into it as tightly as she could. “Don’t leave Anya here… Anya doesn’t want to be alone in a test place again...”

“Even if Papa is going to have to talk about what happened to you, Anya?” Loid asked.

“Mm,” Anya replied, still burying her face into Mr. Chimera. “Anya doesn’t want to be alone again without Papa.”

“Very well,” Loid said, nodding once before he turned to the others with a serious expression. “I don’t suppose you all practice some form of doctor-patient confidentiality here…?”

Sister Tali and the Nurse both nodded. “Nothing will leak from here and reach the ears of those who do not need to know,” the Nurse said.

“Yor? Would you like to step out? It’ll be rather upsetting,” Loid asked, gentler this time.

“I’m her mother now, aren’t I?” Yor replied, a bit confused and offended. “I’m worried about Anya, too. I can’t not know about this if it scares her so badly.”

Once more, Loid thanked the fortunes that had brought them together, even if they had also forced them to be married.

Then, he hoped to those same powers that they would all buy this latest lie he was spinning as he spoke out.

“I suppose I should start with the war that broke out in my home country and forced us to flee it.

“My former employer was a Marquis, right on the front lines of the conflict as they guarded the border with the enemy. Most of the fighting was contained outside the city’s walls, until one day, while I was running errands, there was a massive explosion.

“I thought it would kill me and honestly, it almost did. By the time I came to, the entire city was in complete chaos, and even after the dust settled, most everyone who could flee did and the rest were hunkering down in the hopes that the worst would pass them by, somehow.

"It was the closest the fighting had ever gotten to the civilians so far, so I was stuck for the next few weeks trying to help keep my employer's house and territory together. There was so much work to be done and fires to be put out that I could scarcely find time to go check on Anya and her mother."

“Were they not living with you?” Yor asked, confused.

“No, they were not, I..." Loid looked down and paused intentionally, "must confess to you all that Anya was an illegitimate child, in the sense that her mother and I never formally married. Our romance was frowned upon, to begin with, and if they had learned that went so far as to have a child together, there would be dire consequences for all of us.”

Sister Tali and the Nurse both nodded sympathetically, with the grim looks of people all too familiar with such a situation.

“We often had to meet in secret and go through many layers of obfuscation to even send letters to each other, which made it almost impossible for me to contact them and figure out if they were safe.

“Even if the city guard had not abandoned their posts or were struggling to keep some semblance of order, they would have been unsympathetic to our plight at best or prosecuted us on the spot at worst. So, I had to rely on my contacts outside the law to help me, and when they finally got back to me...”

Loid clutched his fists, he trembled and made a sound like he was swallowing back tears.

Yor reached out carefully and touched him on the shoulder.

Loid made himself tense up before he relaxed, he looked up at Yor with an expression of gratitude. Then, he turned back to the others with a somber look.

“… They told me that, in the chaos, Anya’s mother had been killed and Anya had been kidnapped by human traffickers or enemy soldiers infiltrating the city—the difference doesn’t really matter, the end result was the same. I don’t know what they did to her while they were in their clutches… but it has clearly scarred her.”

Anya started trembling violently again, Loid patted her on the head.

“I had thought that maybe since I had rescued from them, and fled far, far away from our home country, and found safety and welcoming people Reinesburg, our problems would be over. But, it seems that was too optimistic."

There was silence in the room as they let the weight of it all sink in.

Anya continued to shake and sob, Loid tried to soothe her.

“So that’s why Anya is so afraid...” Yor whispered, sadness and anger in her eyes as she reached out to Anya as well.

“I can understand her fear well, because it’s happened to me, too,” Sister Tali said grimly.

“Sister Tali, too…?” Anya asked, slowly pulling her face out of Mr. Chimera.

“It’s a very long story and I can’t tell you all of it right now, since other people need to use this room after us,” Sister Tali said. “But you should know, Ms. Anya, that I was also a victim of evil people who did terrible experiments on me. It was even worse because I was a student of medical magics, witnessing the techniques I was studying twisted to harm than heal.

“After I was rescued, they struggled to keep me in a hospital to treat me, I was so afraid of the healers and doctors. Even just the sight of their tools terrified me and brought me back to those dark times. It was so bad that they ended up having to tie me up or use potions to force me to sleep, so they could perform necessary procedures to save my life or prevent any more permanent damage than I had.”

Anya started to look scared again. “Anya’s going to be tied up or fed potions?”

“No, no, not at all!” Sister Tali said, smiling. “You’re far too young, it’ll do much more harm than good, and what they did to me was an absolute last resort, because of how much of a danger I was both to others and myself.

“But, thankfully, they knew this couldn’t be allowed to go on forever, so thanks to the help of some extremely patient and talented doctors and healers, I eventually got over that fear and they inspired me to become like them, which is why I chose to continue my doctorate despite everything that happened.

“Though these scars will forever remain, I live on and am happy regardless,” Sister Tali finished as she touched the inky black marks on her face.

“How long did it take?” Anya asked.

Sister Tali sighed and said, “15 long, long years.”

“15 years?” Anya asked, shocked and worried.

“It's just how long it took to heal because I was already an adult and how deep the wounds were," Sister Tali said. "But, in a sense you're lucky, Ms. Anya, because you're still so young, you can heal much faster, sooner, and more effectively than I ever could. Maybe you can become a doctor of medical magics in the future, too!"

Anya looked extremely doubtful at that.

Loid smirked. “Perhaps you’re jumping the gun, Sister Tali.”

“So it seems,” Sister Tali said, chuckling. “Anyway, right now, tests are scary, and you’ve got good reason to be scared of them. But, tests are also very important, so we can ensure that you can stay healthy and happy. You can’t be scared of them forever, like how I couldn’t be, and I promise you can eventually get over that fear, as I have.

“We can skip every other test for now, but we really can’t skip your blood analysis because it’s so important. All we need is just a little bit of it to work with and, if we find that there’s nothing seriously wrong, there will be no more tests, you can all leave, and go get a treat.

“Seems to me like you must really like chocolate and peanuts, based on that cake last night?”

“Mmm, Anya likes peanuts,” Anya said, nodding.

“Then you can go get peanuts, right?” Sister Tali asked, looking at Loid.

“We’ll stop by the general store and get you a big bag of them on the way home, Anya,” Loid said, nodding.

Anya looked tempted by that but still wasn’t completely convinced.

“Sister Tali?” Yor asked. “Can I ask about something that might help?”

“Yes, Mrs. Forger?” Sister Tali asked, looking at her.

"Maybe me or Loid could draw blood instead of you since Anya already trusts us?" Yor asked. "I already know how to find veins and I'm sure I can draw blood with a syringe if I think of it like a really small version of my knives.”

“Do you have training as a nurse or a field medic, Mrs. Forger?” Sister Tali asked. “I’m not against turning a blind eye to unlicensed medical practice if it’ll do more good than harm, but I would like to know you at least know what you’re doing.”

“Well, no,” Yor said, sheepishly looking to the side. “Now that I think about it maybe I may end up drawing way more blood than we need...”

Anya turned to Yor, her eyes widened as she paled for some mysterious reason.

“I have some medical training,” Loid said quickly. “It was one of the duties I cycled to as part of my army days and I continued to use it after I became a butler.”

“Really now, Mr. Forger?” Sister Tali asked, smiling.

“My employer insisted that their servants be able to address as many duties and emergencies as they possibly could, especially since we were always a prime target for skirmishes and attacks on the border, not to mention the usual threat of monsters at our gates,” Loid said. “Drawing blood with a syringe is a very simple matter for me.”

(As is posing as actual medical staff and minor surgery to treat serious injuries or to extract illegal substances and packages from mules without killing them, but no one needs to know that,) Loid added to himself.

“Then please, go ahead, Mr. Forger,” Sister Tali said, handing Loid the syringe and a disinfectant swab.

“Thank you,” Loid said as he took them. “Anya? Your arm, please?”

Anya looked at Loid, then reluctantly held out her arm and looked away.

“Good girl,” Loid said.

He found a vein, cleaned the skin above it, then with the delicate, feather-light precision of a spy, he inserted the needle and drew the small amount of blood that Sister Tali needed.

“Is it over…?” Anya asked, opening her eyelids slightly to peek.

“It's over, Anya," Loid said, taping the cotton ball over the wound and then kissing Anya on the head.

Anya still looked uneasy but at least, it was done.

The Nurse labeled and secured Anya’s blood sample on a rack with her parents’ samples, Sister Tali nodded. “There we go, this is the last thing we needed from you, Ms. Anya.”

“No more tests?” Anya said.

“All things go well, yes, no more tests, Anya," Sister Tali said. "You all seem like a perfectly happy, healthy family, so I doubt we’re going to find anything off.”

Anya nodded and let out a sigh of relief.

“Now then, with all that done: time for your X-ray, Mr. Forger!” Sister Tali said. “Nurse, fetch the machine and the screen.”

“At once, Sister,” the Nurse clicked before they walked off to a corner of the room.

Sister Tali turned back to Loid and said, “It doesn’t seem like you broke any bones, which is good, but let’s be certain if you’re at increased risk of a future fracture.”

Loid nodded. “I’d like nothing more. Is there any sort of equipment I need to wear, like an apron?”

Sister Tali chuckled. “Surely, you jest, Mr. Forger? I know the Temple is far and away from the likes of the College of Medicine in Port Illyria or the Lumina Center in the capital, but you’ll have to go to a museum to find equipment that is that antique and flawed, assuming it even works anymore."

“My apologies for any offense, Sister Tali,” Loid asked as the nurse returned, rolling the equipment along on wheels. “I suppose that’s just what I was used to, back in my home country.”

“If that’s the kind of equipment your doctors had to work with for such a routine procedure, I shudder to think what they must have used for the rest,” Sister Tali said, shaking her head.

The X-rays came out perfectly fine, nothing but old injuries and healed fractures from the times when Loid had barely escaped death or suffered the consequences of desperate targets and/or holes in the intel going into an operation.

Inevitably, he and Yor had to explain what had caused all the pain and misery to begin with, and Sister Tali was nice enough to cover her mouth as she snickered and then apologize afterward.

“You two should consider some more serious research and preparation before the next time you have sex, Mr. and Mrs. Forger," Sister Tali said. "The risks of interspecies intimacy are no joke."

"Any recommendations as a doctor, Sister Tali?" Loid asked, with Yor nodding and listening in intently.

“For the moment, Mr. Forger, grab something to boost your physical defenses for before, like a Harden Body potion or a Rock’n Roll from Savanwood Bakery, and recovery tonic for after, from the General Store or Mr. Nihls,” Sister Tali replied. “Also, you must all already be acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Savanwood, so you could also ask advice from them about how to do it safely and improve the experience for the both of you.”

“We’ve only just met, Sister Tali,” Loid said, shocked.

Sister Tali shook her head and smiled. “Mr. Forger, you really are new to all this. Warbeasts have very few taboos around sex and their non-warbeast partners learn to do the same. There is value in shame and restraint but there much more value in keeping your bones intact and not having to fear or fear for your partner.”

“… We’ll take it under consideration,” Loid said.

“Sex sounds scary and dangerous," Anya said. "Maybe Mama and Papa shouldn't do it anymore."

Loid and Yor both blushed while Sister Tali covered her mouth as she laughed again.

And so, without any more concerns, they left the examination room and decided to see the Temple’s botanical garden while they waited for the results to come in.

They would reveal an unpleasant surprise for Loid, but he didn’t know that for now.

Chapter Text

Whereas the examination room had been almost completely normal by the standards of Loid's previous world, the Temple's weirdness and alien nature made itself front and center once more in the botanical garden.

Like the path to the entrance, it was full of shade-loving flowers blooming in pots and planters, but there were also monster plants, animate, magical species of flora that were often capable of uprooting themselves and moving around, grabbing things, and even aid with its security.

There were carnivorous plants like Drakesmaw Flowers guarding the entrances to the medicinal herb greenhouses, threatening to bite down or spit and ignite the highly-flammable fluid in their sacs. Drowning Doom Weeds were ensuring any suspicious individuals in the irrigation canals and the pond were apprehended or swiftly dealt with if it came to that. And an ancient treant was watching over the whole area on top of a small hill, its bark gnarled and twisted like an old man’s face, several more animals roosting on its branches or in its knotholes acting as extra pairs of eyes and ears.

And speaking of animals, normal varieties and monsters were roaming around almost freely. Some of them seemed to be part of the Temple's staff, wearing harnesses that marked them as therapy animals or just transformed humanoids. The latter were mostly a mix of unusually large and strangely colored animals like wolves or large cats, oftentimes with monstrous traits like horns or patches of fur glowing and thrumming with magic.

Despite all this fascinating, fantastic strangeness, however, for now, Loid was content to just sit on a bench, while Yor and Anya made fast friends with one of the therapy animals.

“Ani!” Anya cried before she whistled and waved her arm.

Anino the therapy dog ran over to her, barking and yipping eagerly. He stopped before Anya and Yor, hopping about and going in circles, his glowing yellow eyes darting between Anya and the ball in Yor’s hand.

“Throw it, Mama, throw it!” Anya cried.

“Okay!” Yor cried, cocking her arm. “Get ready, Ani!”

Anino barked then sat down, silent and eagerly watching the ball with all the focus his small body could muster.

Fwoosh!

Loid watched as Yor threw the ball with superhuman strength and precision, deftly missing the many plants, guests, residents, or furniture she could have hit and seriously injured or damaged. He could easily track its trajectory for all the leaves, flowers, and decorative hanging cloth billowing in the wake of the displaced air, all in the same direction.

Ball slowed down and then landed several meters away, in the shade of the fence that separated the botanical garden from the wilderness on the other side.

After confirming that Anino had his eyes firmly on the ball, Anya cried, “Fetch, Ani, fetch!”

Anino yipped before he jumped into the nearest patch of darkness and melted into it. The Forgers all watched as Anino surged along the ground and jumped from shadow to shadow, becoming an amorphous inky puddle when he had to move under light, before stopping underneath the ball.

The ball bounced like it was caught under a bubbling water jet before Anino burst out, clutching the ball in his newly-reformed jaws.

Anya clapped and cheered, Anino obediently ran back to her in dog-form.

Loid watched and smiled as Anya and Yor eagerly for Anino to come back… until he felt a tapping on his shoulder.

He had already sensed the footsteps and the eyes that were on him specifically, so he was unsurprised by the gesture and that the hand belonged to Sister Tali. She was smiling and holding a small stack of papers in her hands.

“Hello, Mr. Forger,” she said. “I see you three are rather enjoying yourselves out here.”

“We are,” Loid said. “This is a beautiful garden, quite different from any of the ones I’ve seen before. Anyway, I take it those are our results?”

“Yes, they are!” Sister Tali said, handing them over. As Loid took them and scanned them, she continued, "The long and short of it is that you and Yor are both exceptionally healthy individuals. Anya is underweight and under height, likely from malnutrition, but I think that’s nothing that can’t be easily fixed now that you’re living here in Reinesburg and rooming with the Paladias at their restaurant.”

“That’s good to hear,” Loid said as he folded the papers and secured them in his inner jacket pocket.

“However, there is one concern I’d like to discuss specifically with you,” Sister Tali said, her expression growing serious.

Loid mirrored her grimness. “Do I need to call Yor over and leave Anya to play with Anino for a while?”

“It’ll be your discretion if you wish to share this with Yor, since it doesn’t seem to be a problem at the moment,” Sister Tali said. “And honestly, I pray it won’t become an issue in the future, for all your sakes.”

“So what is it, Sister Tali?” Loid asked.

“I need to gather some more information first,” Sister Tali said, pulling out a pen and a small notebook. “Was Anya’s mother also a mage?”

“Yes,” Loid said.

“I take it she was also some manner of umbran since you mentioned a forbidden romance?” Sister Tali asked.

“Yes,” Loid said quietly, looking down. “My home country did not integrate our peoples as well as they do here in Reinesburg and Port Illyria.”

Sister Tali nodded and gave him a sympathetic look before she wrote that down, too. "And my last question: have you noticed anything particularly strange with Anya's magic, after you rescued her from her kidnappers and their experiments?

“Any drastic mood or behavioral changes? Unusual fluctuations in her magical ability, such as power output, the intensity of spells, or accidental discharges or casting? Or perhaps the ability to cast spells she did not show any affinity toward before, consciously or unconsciously?”

“Not because of her magic specifically, I attributed that more to the lingering trauma of losing her mother and being kidnapped and experimented on; no, I haven’t observed anything that I haven’t witnessed before; and my apologies, I wouldn’t know,” Loid said. “Anya mostly lived with her mother and she also took on the brunt of observing and training Anya’s magic.”

Sister Tali was writing the entire time, Loid couldn’t help but notice her face growing grimmer and grimmer with each answer that gave her no useful new information. “I see… I had guessed as much but it’s still disappointing...”

“So now that you’ve asked your questions, what do you think this potential problem with Anya is?” Loid asked.

“Anya has an abnormally high affinity for dark magic and stores of mana beside,” Sister Tali said. “At her age and with her history of malnutrition, it seems incredibly unlikely this would be naturally occurring, even if her mother was as capable as or even stronger of a mage than you are. You don’t get these numbers unless someone goes through intensive training, artificially boosts them with alchemy, or has some sort of surgical procedure done to enhance their abilities, like implantation of a magical amplifier or artifact."

“And you’re worried her kidnappers may have operated on her and done something to her that I haven’t noticed or has yet to manifest itself…?” Loid asked.

“Yes,” Sister Tali said, nodding somberly. “We can’t tell anything without even more extensive, possibly invasive testing, nor do I recommend it because of her trauma, how young and fragile she is, and how much physical and psychological damage we could potentially cause in the search of something that may be there.”

Loid sighed and looked down. “Well, I suppose there goes my plan of just hoping nothing so horrible happened to her…” he said before he looked back up and asked, “what’s the prognosis?”

“Ideally speaking,” Sister Tali started, “Anya will have an incredible talent for dark magics despite mostly expressing her lumen side, giving her a unique niche to ply her skills and make a living, if she wants to hone it and you can nurture that talent.

“Worst case scenario,” she continued, “she might eventually become overwhelmed by the sheer intensity and magnitude of the dark magic spells she can cast both consciously and unconsciously, before she even has a hope of developing the emotional, mental, and physical maturity to try and control them.

“I’m hoping we won’t have a situation where she completely loses control of her magic and causes a public incident with property damage, or worse, potential injuries to herself and others.

“But, as her sole living mage parent, it will fall primarily on you to help control Anya’s power, and if necessary, step in to defuse her before it becomes too late.

“Mr. Forger, you’ve struck all of us as an incredibly talented magia who probably already knows what to do from your years in training as a child. But, just in case, I’ve informed the Librarian to lend you some of our books on raising magic-capable children and parenthood in general. They’ll be waiting for you at the front desk.”

“It’s much appreciated, Sister Tali,” Loid said. “I must confess, again, that I don’t know what to do and could use all the help I can get. I never once expected I’d ever be a father before Anya or her mother came into my life, and I’m even more at a loss now that I’m the only one she has left of her birth parents.”

“Well, limited as my knowledge is about your situation and history, you seem to be taking exceptionally well to your new responsibilities, Mr. Forger,” Sister Tali said, smiling. “Your daughter clearly loves and trusts you so much and in turn, you are clearly determined to raise her properly. I can’t say you’ll be a perfect father or that this will be even remotely easy from now on, but I’m confident you’ll do your best to avoid mistakes and your best to correct them when they happen.”

“Thank you, Sister Tali,” Loid said, “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome. Just remember you’re also a husband to a new woman now, and you make sure she’s happy and well-cared for, too,” Sister Tali said, turning to look at Yor and Anya.

They seemed to have finished playing Fetch, and now Anya was just delighting in Anito nuzzling against her, licking her face, crawling all around her, disappearing into their shadows before popping out and reforming elsewhere.

“I will, Sister Tali,” Loid said, nodding with a serious look on his face as if he'd voluntarily accepted a mission that absolutely could not fail.

“Then I’ll leave the rest to you, Mr. Forger,” Sister Tali said, nodding. “Oh, but before I go: a quick question, Mr. Forger?”

“What is it?” Loid asked.

“Anya’s mother was not a human magia, was she?” Sister Tali asked.

“Yes, she was not human,” Loid said sheepishly. “How did you know?”

“Something told me you seem to have strong romantic preferences for non-human women,” Sister Tali said, grinning. “Not disparaging your tastes, to be clear.”

More seriously, she added, “Also, if Anya happens to be already be hiding horns underneath those cones on her head, or she develops non-human features later in such as a tail or an inexplicable thirst for the blood of living beings, please inform me so we can teach her how to properly care of her body.”

“We will if it happens, Sister Tali,” Loid said.

“Farewell then, Mr. Forger!” Sister Tali said, pressing a hand to her chest and bowing slightly. “Don’t be afraid to come back to the Temple just to chat and get to know your umbran neighbors better. We’d love it if you’d also consider volunteering, it might help Ms. Anya get over her fear.”

"If our schedules permit it, Sister Tali,” Loid said before he got up and headed over to Anya, Yor, and Anito.

Yor was the first to notice him, her ears twisting in Loid’s direction before she turned to look. “Oh, hello again, Loid!” she said, smiling and waving.

Anya and Anito paused in the middle of play wrestling/tummy rubbing, Anya’s eyes lit up while Anito barked excitedly. “Papa!” she cried as they separated then ran over to Loid.

“Hello Yor, and hello to you and your new friend too, Anya,” Loid said, bending down to pet the heads of both of them simultaneously.

Anito’s head felt alien against his hand.

If Loid had to describe it, Anito did not so much feel different than anything he’d ever touched before, so much as Anito lacked anything to feel to begin with. Loid’s body seemed to be recognizing the absence of fur and skin in a dog-shaped configuration roughly the shape and size of a terrier, with the constant thrum of magic telling Loid’s brain there was still something inside that void aside from air and absorbed light particles.

Despite this, Anito seemed to respond as positively and affectionately as any friendly dog from Loid’s previous world would have.

“We’ve got the results from Sister Tali,” Loid said as he stood up and took the papers out of his pocket.

“What did she say?” Yor asked, Anya looking on nervously.

“She says you and I are both healthy, Yor, and that Anya is just shorter and lighter than she’s supposed to be at her age,” Loid said. “It’s nothing Mrs. Paladia’s cooking won’t fix in time, so we don’t need any more tests,” he finished, smiling at Anya.

Anya sighed, relieved.

“That’s really good news!” Yor said.

“Indeed,” Loid said.

(Which is why there’s no need to spoil the mood with the rest of Sister Tali’s warning, unless it starts causing problems,) he added to himself.

“I suppose it’s time for us to leave now?” Yor asked.

“After we stop by the front desk to get some books Sister Tali thought I could use,” Loid replied. “I would like to get back to Mrs. Paladia as soon as possible, so I can start learning how to help around in the kitchen. Considering how many of Mrs. Paladia's recipes are baked, stewed, or slow-roasted in an oven, we're going to need as much time as we can so the lessons don't bleed into the opening hour."

Yor nodded. “Then I guess it’s time to say goodbye to Anito, Anya,” she said as she turned to her.

“Okay...” Anya said, looking sad for a moment before she quickly recovered. “Bye, Ani! Anya and Anya’s family are leaving now!”

Anito barked happily, nuzzling against Anya’s side before he ran off into the deep shade of a nearby tree, jumped into it, and melted into it, disappearing like he was always part of the darkness.

“Can Anya come back to see Ani?” Anya asked as she reached up and Loid took her hand. “Umm, without needing tests or going through medical stuff first?”

“We can, Sister Tali invited us to do just that earlier,” Loid said, smiling.

“Yay!” Anya said, smiling.

(Perhaps after sunset or better yet, late at night with or without Anya,) Loid thought as they prepared to leave the Temple of the Dark Mother. (If I want to learn more about the creatures and societies who live and thrive in the night, the least I can do is come visit them then.)

They returned to the Paladias restaurant by mid-morning, where Mrs. Polly was happy to hear the good news and even happier to know that Loid was eager to start his training as an assistant chef.

“Wash your hands, grab an apron, and make sure you’re well-hydrated before you step in, Mr. Forger!” Mrs. Polly said, grinning. “The heat will be on once we’re serving customers later tonight, and I want to be sure you can take it!”

“I’m ready for anything, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said with a serious expression.

“Good, I like your spirit, but just don’t be afraid to get out of the kitchen if your body falters,” Mrs. Polly replied. “I’d hate to leave little Anya without a father and Yor without a husband from heatstroke in the kitchen.”

“I’ve survived Numbing Death through magic and willpower, Mrs. Paladia, my pride won’t let that be the end of me," Loid replied.

All theatrics aside, Loid’s training with Mrs. Paladia was almost like a pleasant vacation, compared to the kitchen jobs he’d gotten while infiltrating highly-exclusive luxury restaurants or niche establishments for the rich, bored, and eccentric.

There were no stupidly expensive ingredients like saffron, foie gras, or prime Kobe beef. There were no elaborate, delicate processes like making or using dry-aged steaks, aged cheeses, or wines and liquors. And there was absolutely nothing on the restaurant menu or Mrs. Polly’s extensive repertoire of recipes that required delicacy, artistry, and precision that foods like sashimi and sushi needed.

To none of Loid's surprise, it was all "working folk's fare," hearty, simple, voluminous meals designed to make the most of cheap, easily acquirable ingredients, what was leftover, or to ensure nothing would go to waste.

Cooking was oftentimes a manner of watching a slowly simmering pot on the stove or roasts in the oven, leaving plenty of time to attend to children and the infirm, do other chores around the house or the kitchen like cooking short orders, or just sit down and take a rest.

And then, serving and presentation were as simple as putting it all into large, communal bowls and plates to scoop out servings as desired, if the customers weren’t just going to eat straight from it and fight for what parts they wanted.

It was basically a guarantee that Loid would have passed Mrs. Polly’s tests and met her standards even blindfolded and with one hand tied behind his back—which they tried to great success, since Yor and Anya went out with Jack to do some small errands and chat with the neighbors, and there was no risk of Anya trying to mimic Loid.

Soon, the two of them were sitting down for a well-deserved break with bread from the Savanwoods and a pitcher of sweet tea, the kitchen flooded with the delightful smell of the chicken and root vegetable roast and sides they’d be having for lunch.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Mrs. Polly said, smiling, “were you also training to be a chef before you ultimately decided to be a butler, Mr. Forger, or were you always just a happy little helper in your family’s kitchen?”

“Neither, it was one of the skills I learned growing up, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said. “I learned from an early age about the value of being able to cook and feed yourself, no matter where you are or what you have to work with. Especially compared to being forced to eat raw ingredients or whatever scraps you can scrounge up, eating a hot meal you made yourself is indescribably good for the soul.”

“And, if nothing else, it at least ensured that I lived to see another day, staving off starvation as well as malnutrition,” Loid said before he sighed. “I’m sorry, this getting a little dark.”

“I can help shed some light on it if you'd like, Mr. Forger?" Mrs. Polly asked.

She was smiling, but Loid could tell those were knowing, sympathetic eyes, ones that had seen pain and suffering like Loid’s, too.

“Are you sure you want to be discussing such heavy topics right now, Mrs. Paladia?” Loid asked warily.

“What, you want to be having this chat later tonight, while we’re busy getting orders out?” Mrs. Polly asked with mock seriousness.

The two of them chuckled, the air felt a little lighter.

“In all seriousness, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Polly said, “I want to be a good friend and host to you and your family. You, Anya, and now your new wife Yor have been nothing but good, helpful, friendly folks to Reinesburg in the short time you’ve been here or that we all knew you were around the area, despite all the trauma you must have gone through being ripped from or forced to flee everything and everyone you once knew.

"I want to make sure all this goodwill and effort you're showing us doesn't go unappreciated and unreturned and want to be someone you can unload your worries on and help shed some light on your darkness.

“’Heroes ask for no thanks, but you and I aren’t heroes,’ so the saying goes.”

Loid nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Paladia, your words mean a lot.”

“You’re welcome, now do you need my handkerchief? I don’t think you had one or gotten a replacement from Mr. Vahlen,” Mrs. Polly asked, reaching into her pockets.

“Huh?” Loid asked, blinking before he paused. “Ah. I see, I appear to be crying.”

“Yep, I’d say you certainly are,” Mrs. Polly said, chuckling as she held out her handkerchief. “Been a while since you’ve been dealing with something unpleasant all alone, huh?”

“Yes,” Loid said as he took it and dabbed his eyes, a smile on his face. “You don’t know the half of it, Mrs. Paladia.”

He couldn’t and wouldn’t tell Mrs. Polly all of it, of course.

But, unlike his days as a spy, in this life, Loid wasn't intending to take all his secrets to the grave.

Chapter Text

“Thanks for letting us join you on your errands, Mr. Paladia,” Yor said as she, Anya, and Jack exited the restaurant.

“Oh, don’t mention it, Mrs. Forger,” Jack said as he carried a woven shopping bag in one hand. “You two are going to be part of both the town and the restaurant now, it’s going to be super helpful for all of us if you know your way around by heart.”

Yor nodded and smiled. “I’ll do my best! Or, at least, I’ll try not to get lost and end up slowing you down!”

“What, you that worried your life skills got that rusty in the 6 weeks you were out in the wilds?” Jack joked. “Even with your memory loss, it seems that you’ve remembered everything important, so I doubt you’d forget how to do something as basic as chores.”

“Mmm, but that's just the problem," Yor replied, uneasy. "I remember back when I was trying to raise myself and my brother, Yuri, I seemed to do a lot more hunting for our meals than shopping, like you do. I can clearly remember one time when I was a kid, I came home one night covered in my prey's blood and worried Yuri to death until I told him none of it was mine!"

Jack blinked then nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah, I can see now why you'd be worried about getting lost if that's what 'going out to get dinner' meant for you. All this is just guessing, but with everything you know like hunting monsters, surviving outdoors, and how to make lethal poisons without a lab, was you and your brother part of a clan of tribal warbeasts? You know, the ones that like to stick to 'the ways of the ancestors' and don't want much to do with towns, cities, and the folks who live in them?"

“Mm, maybe, it seems like it,” Yor said. “We had to have lived near a town or traded with some merchants for things, though. I remember having killed a lot of dangerous monsters specifically for the money to support the both of us.”

“Sounds about right to me, too, since You know how to read, write, and speak Trader’s Tongue fluently,” Jack said. “From what I saw when I was still a hunter, most of those clans had a small handful of dedicated representatives for speaking with outsiders or could barely speak it.

“What does kind of bug me, though, is why does your dress look like that?”

“What’s wrong with Mama’s dress?” Anya asked.

“It doesn't really fit the image of a warbeast huntress making a living and supporting her family by hunting down monsters and living off the land, you know?" Jack replied. "True, hunters can have a flair for the dramatic, especially the richer ones who can afford to deck themselves out in gold, silk, and enchanted runes. But they, have to be practical first, something you can travel for days in, use for protection against the elements, and maybe even have to sleep in if it's just too risky to go unarmored.

“Your Mama’s dress looks more like something an arena fighter or a fancy bodyguard for a rich person would wear; something that catches the eyes of a crowd or will help her blend with the guests at a fancy party so no one suspects she’s armed and dangerous until it's too late. It's something that can be a little or plenty impractical because you’re only going to wear it for a few hours before changing back into something else.”

Yor slowed down, looking confused as she tried to process it.

“So, Mr. Jack thinks Mama maybe wasn’t a hunter…?” Anya asked.

“Well, no—maybe more like she might have been a hunter and an arena fighter, or possibly a bodyguard for a noble or a rich merchant on the side,” Jack said. “It’s a well-known fact that there’s already tons of overlap for the skills and I know plenty of both who moonlight in either business for more cash or a change of pace.

“Maybe whatever happened that brought her here, it may have had something to do with an arena fight. It wouldn’t be the first time it happens from a bad bet, a fixed match, or big rollers feeling threatened.”

“Huh...” Yor said, looking extremely uneasy now.

“Uh… did I say something wrong, Mrs. Forger?” Jack said as he and Anya made worried faces as well.

“Oh, no, nothing," Yor said, shaking her head. "Ah, well, maybe there is something: I remember that before I ended up here, some mysterious people attacked my little brother, Yuri. I wonder if that may have been because of something I did if I was an arena fighter like you think. Maybe someone was very angry that I won a fight they wanted me to lose..."

“I mean, that is possible,” Jack started. Then, as Yor’s expression fell even further, he quickly added, “but, I could also be completely wrong and everything we talked about is far from the truth! I don’t know what happened with your little brother, especially since your memory is so full of holes, but I don’t think you should feel responsible for what happened.

“The world’s full of bad people and sometimes, bad things just happen to good people for no good reason, right?”

Yor nodded. “Right...”

“And maybe you were just a hunter and not working for any other guilds or any other places that could use someone who could fight,” Jack added. “I did meet a lot of hunters on my 3-year contract who intended to keep renewing and setting out into the world until they had to retire, a career just paid that well."

“Oh yeah, Captain Lady told us Mr. Jack was a hunter yesterday!" Anya said. "Why was it like, Mr. Jack?"

“Honestly? Boring, stressful, and a whole lot of work with not much time to take in any of the sights, meet new folks, or have any of the 'exciting experiences' they advertised," Jack said, sighing. "Then again, what little hunting experience I had only qualified me for cooking, cleaning, and carrying everyone else's stuff."

“But did Mr. Jack still get to fight things and go on adventures?” Anya asked.

“Well, yeah, if by ‘adventures,’ you mean contracts that took us out of whatever city we were based at for the moment,” Jack said. “I got the strong sense I was mostly meant to be a meat shield for everyone else, but then again, it wasn’t as if I could contribute much else to a fight.”

“How do you fight, Mr. Paladia?” Yor asked, interested now as well.

“Eh, nothing too complicated,” Jack replied, shrugging. “A short spear and shield to safely poke things and keep them at a distance, with a club for backup in case something gets too close to anyone.”

“You didn’t use a sword instead?” Yor asked.

“No, they never fit me,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Almost everyone I grew up with wanted to grab a stick, swing it around, and pretend they have what it takes to become the next Sword Saint, but me? I just preferred upgrading to a bigger, sturdier stick.”

“Is it because of your size?” Yor asked.

“Partly, yes," Jack said, glancing down at his large, wide frame. "The other thing is that swords needed a whole lot of fancy footwork and arm agility that I never had the years of training to hone. About the only blades that I'm confident handling are kitchen knives, meat cleavers, or hunting knives. Not to mention sword maintenance gets expensive, and if repairing my stuff ran over the company's budget, the rest was coming out of my pocket.

“If we needed someone good with cutting down monsters and threats, we had like half-a-dozen other hunters in the company who could slice and dice baddies better than I ever could.

“Speaking of weapons: why the knives and the poison, if you can remember that?”

“I can't, but honestly, they just feel right for me, for some reason," Yor said, shrugging. "Maybe it's because I was using them from a young age or they just suited my fighting style the best more than anything larger and heavier."

“Fair enough, but still: I gotta wonder just what sort of monsters were around your neck of the woods when you were a kid, though, that made you this tough as an adult," Jack said. "I've met a lot of strong warbeasts, like Mrs. Savanwood, but you must be on a whole different level of muscle, power, and speed to have lasted several encounters with Ullgar and then finally help kill him for good. It makes me feel a lot safer here in town, now that you’re here and can probably easily take on whatever threat comes next.”

“Thank you,” Yor said, smiling.

“Hey, Mr. Jack, can Anya be as strong as Mama one day, too?” Anya asked. “Anya wants to help hunt monsters and fight to protect Mama and Papa, not just sit on a tree branch and yell.”

“I mean, I can’t see why it can’t happen!” Jack said, shrugging. “You’ve got half your Papa’s genes in you, which means you’ll probably have great magical potential and talent, like how it was with Dad and Diana. Mother’s also going to ensure you’re eating well from now on, so you’re not going to have to worry about not being able to develop muscle properly or not having the energy to train and build it up in the first place.

“And I’m sure your new Mama will be glad to pass down what she knows to you, right?” Jack said, looking at Yor.

"Of course, I will be!" Yor said proudly. “I think it’ll be a lot of fun.”

Anya beamed in excitement.

“Though, I think we’re going to have to be careful and prepare a lot for it, though,” Yor said, concerned. “With how strong I am, I don’t want to accidentally break something, like the equipment, the floors and walls, and especially not Anya…”

Then, slowly, Anya’s face fell in horror.

Jack nodded in understanding. “Yeah, might be best to try and talk with Mr. Forger and some other trainer first. There could be issues or quirks because of her magic that we don't know about, too."

“Are magia's bodies really that different?" Yor asked.

“I don’t know the exact science, but I do know there’s gotta be some truth to it!” Jack said. “I grew up with Diana and Dad and the both of them had some really weird quirks with their bodies, thanks to having magic.

"Like, Dad ate a lot, 2-4 serving's worth a meal, but since he constantly moved, worked, and cast so many spells daily, he was always hungry for more by the next mealtime and never seemed to gain any weight nor lose enough to be noticeable. He was tall and skinny since my earliest memories of him and he looked almost exactly the same the last time I saw him alive 20 or so years later, just with grayer hair and more wrinkles.

“Diana, in the meanwhile, ate about as much as Dad, but could never shed weight for long no matter how hard she tries. Even when her job has her casting all day building or fixing roads, canals, and walls, what weight she had lost powering all of those spells, she gets back the next time she eats, usually with extra for next time.”

“Wow, that does seem really different from normal,” Yor said, nodding.

“Right?” Jack said. “I thought magic student’s robes were meant to be loose and adjusted with ties and sashes because most start really young and kids can grow up crazy fast. But, it turns out magical kids can also gain or lose a ton of weight faster than most tailors can keep up. I hear some of them even end up blowing up like balloons!”

Anya gasped, horrified. “Anya doesn’t want to blow up like a balloon!” she cried as she clutched at Yor’s leg. “Anya might float away from Mama and Papa and Anya doesn’t want to be away from Mama and Papa!”

“Ahh, calm down, Anya!” Yor said as she picked her up and started patting her back. “Maybe you won’t blow up like a balloon? Mr. Paladia did say it only happens to some magical kids!”

“Yeah, yeah, not all of them, not all of them!” Jack said, nodding quickly and smiling nervously.

“And if Anya does anyway?!” Anya blubbered, not comforted in the slightest.

“Umm, maybe Loid will know something about how to fix it?" Yor asked. "He's a magia too and he has to know about this since he went through it himself."

“Yeah, he probably does!" Jack added quickly. "Your Papa's obviously a really smart guy, just like my Dad. He'll think of something if he wasn't already planning for it! Plus, you could always just go to the Temple if it gets that bad. They'll definitely know what to do.”

Anya whimpered, still not soothed.

“Woah, what’s going on with you three?” a fourth voice asked.

Everyone turned to look and found Shai Li standing nearby with a leash in one hand.

“Oh, Mrs. Savanwood, good morning!” Jack cried, surprised. “Ah, and hello too, Pork Bun.”

The pig on the other end of the leash snorted, waddled over, and nudged Jack’s leg.

“Alright, alright,” Jack said, bending his legs so he could be level with Pork Bun.

As Pork Bun hummed happily and nuzzled him, Shai Li said, “Good morning as well. Now, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s got Anya bawling her eyes out here on the street?”

“Mrs. Savanwood, is Anya going to blow up like a balloon if Anya eats too much?!” Anya asked quickly.

“Not unless you can gorge yourself all night at a feast like Jianguo did, to try and dig through a mountain by himself!” Shai Li said, chuckling. “Seriously speaking though, why the worrying about ballooning all of a sudden? I wasn’t paying attention until Anya started crying.”

“Um, we were talking about training Anya since she was wondering about getting as strong as me and joining us on hunts," Yor said. "Then, Mr. Paladia mentioned how I might have to talk to Loid and some other trainer because her body might be different because she's a magia, and then Mr. Paladia mentioned something about them gaining weight really easily to the point where they might blow up balloons, and that’s when Anya started worrying that might happen to her.

“Will she?” Yor asked, uneasy. “I’m kind of worried if it can happen, considering how many sharp things we have in the restaurant. It’ll be dangerous to have Anya near them if we can’t deflate her right away.”

Shai Li sniggered and covered her mouth with her free hand. “Sorry. Anyway, about your question: no, Anya won’t blow up like a balloon, not unless she decides she wants to start eating like a Junior League wrestler or an endurance event athlete at a Mage’s Meet. Even then, that'll take several weeks' worth of meals and way more than what Mrs. Polly is probably feeding you right now.”

Anya and Yor both relaxed.

“And also, Anya,” Shai Li said, “if you want to grow up big and strong like your parents, you really should be eating as much as you can, so your body and magic has all the nutrients and energy it needs to get that way. It’s also going to be really painful and dangerous if you don’t have enough food in you.”

“Why would it be painful and dangerous?” Yor asked, curious.

Shai Li gave a pained smile and said, “Let’s not go there for now, especially since it’s just an hour or two before lunch! Just know that you won't have to worry about that unless somehow, Mrs. Polly is unable to feed you anything for a few weeks straight.”

“Can that happen, Mr. Jack?” Anya asked as she turned to him.

“Absolutely positively not,” Jack said, shaking his head as he continued to snuggle with Pork Bun. “Mother lives for making sure people are fed and fed well, even if it’s a heck of a lot of work or puts her in some kind of risk. It's why she decided to start a new restaurant here in Reinesburg, rather than continue working for the original place in Lulurun Valley, so she could feed more people with her cooking.

“The fridge and pantry are always going to be stocked and if there's not enough food to go around, which I doubt will ever happen, she'll starve herself before she lets a little kid like you go hungry."

“So in short, don’t worry too much about food and just eat whenever you’re hungry and stop when you’re satisfied, Anya,” Shai Li said. “And you, Mrs. Forger, don’t need to worry so much about Anya’s diet so long as Mrs. Polly is feeding her.”

Mother and daughter both nodded.

“Thank you, Mrs. Savanwood, Mr. Jack, Anya feels a lot better now,” Anya said.

“Yes, thank you,” Yor said. “I just don’t know the first thing about raising magia, so I’m glad you know, Mrs. Savanwood.”

“Feel free to ask me again if you need help!” Shai Li said, smiling. “But if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go finish getting Pork Bun her exercise and get home before the lunch rush. Come on, Pork Bun,” she said, tugging at the leash.

Pork Bun snorted, displeased, before she pulled away from Jack.

They said their farewells and started walking again.

"You could ask Mother for advice, too, Mrs. Forger," Jack said as he got up and brushed off his hands on his pants. "Mother's side of the family is huge, so she helped raise plenty of cousins and younger siblings, with some of them also being magia.”

“I will. I want to get mothering right, now that I am one!” Yor said with a determined expression. Then, she paused, and said, “… Which means we should probably get to finishing those errands we set out to do… did we waste too much time right now?”

“Probably not,” Jack said, shaking his head. “We’re not in a hurry and it’ll be simple stuff, too, just grabbing some potions for me and Mother both.”

Anya looked worried. “This isn’t from Mr. Nihls’ store, is it?”

“No?” Jack said, confused. “We get them from the General Store.”

“Will Mr. Vel be the one at the counter?” Anya asked, still concerned.

“Probably not?" Jack said. "Van or Signa ought to be back at the counter now since the festival's over and it's back to business as usual."

Anya sighed, relieved. “Oh. Okay.”

“You really don’t like Mr. Nihls or Mr. Vishasfell, huh?” Yor asked.

Anya shook her head. “Anya doesn’t like how Mr. Nihls or Mr. Vel talk. And Mr. Nihls’ shop smells funny!”

Yor looked at Jack, her expression confused and concerned.

Jack shrugged. “Personally, I’ve never found anything particularly wrong or off-putting with either of them. But then again, my family’s pretty full of strange people like Dad, so I don’t think I’m the best person to judge that...”

Yor nodded slowly before they entered the town square, bustling and lively once more now that it was midday.

Chapter Text

The General Store had a small handful of customers sitting outside, drinks in hand as they conversed or simply passed time by watching the world go by. There weren’t many customers inside this late in the morning, probably because they’d already taken advantage of the new “Deal of the Day,”as written on the signboard outside:

“Hangover Cures, Headache Cures, and Minor Healing Potions, 50% Off!

Available while supplies last (and we’ve got plenty!)”

It seemed to have been as profitable as Nihls said last night if the conspicuously empty shelves of the alchemicals section, the bare temporary stands, and several empty crates labeled “Nihls Atelier” stacked nearby were anything to go by. And as it just so happened, Yor, Anya, and Jack entered when Velros’s son, Vandred, was bringing out more stock on a hand truck.

“Oh, welcome!” Vandred said as he stopped and smiled. “Come in, come in, just let me park this somewhere and I’ll be right with you three!”

“Nah, take your time and restock first Van," Jack said. "We're not in a rush."

Vandred sighed, relieved. “Thanks, Jack. Feel free to browse in the meanwhile, then. It’s just me manning the store right now until the lunch rush starts, so it’ll take me a while.”

“Did something happen to the rest of your family?” Jack asked, concerned.

“Yes, Pops did,” Vandred said, scowling as he resumed pushing the cart. “He decided that since last night was the first spontaneous festival we’ve had in a while, the kids could get far more sweets, cake, and food than they should have had.

“Now, they're recovering from sugar comas or stomachaches, Signa is taking a break from being the only one to help with the early morning crowd earlier, and Pops is doing the bare minimum by helping them all recover from his irresponsible decisions.”

“They’re all gonna look back on this night and say it was all worth it, Son!” Velros yelled from upstairs, his voice slightly muffled.

Vandred looked up and yelled back, “Easy for you to say when you’re probably gonna be dead before you see the long-term consequences, Pops!”

“And I trust you could handle them just fine when my time inevitably comes, Son!” Velros replied, cackling until he started coughing and quickly became inaudible even to Yor’s ears.

Vandred looked down, shook his head, and muttered something under his breath. “Sorry you had to witness that…” he said as he resumed pushing. “I get a little testy when Pops gets up to his antics.”

“I hope you two can make up,” Yor said, concerned. “Mr. Velros really could die any time soon and it’d be tragic if you two parted on bad terms.”

“It’ll be fine, Mama,” Anya said. “Anya can tell Mr. Van isn’t that angry at Mr. Vel.”

“Heh, thanks for understanding,” Vandred said, looking over his shoulder and smiling. “Butting heads like this is just normal for us.”

“Do you do it literally, too?” Yor asked, looking at the horns on Vandred’s head.

“No, not anymore,” Vandred replied as he opened a crate and started restocking a shelf with alchemical bottles. “Even if Pops’ horns and skull are still thick as ever, the rest of his bones are too fragile now. I wouldn’t want him to break something when we might not be able to afford to get it healed up completely, and then we’ll be forced to have him live the rest of his life with even worse disabilities.

“Besides, he already costs us enough with all the little gifts and purchases he keeps making on the sly, too…!” Vandred said, raising his voice slightly.

“Stop being so stingy with the kids and I’ll be happy to stop, Son!” Velros replied.

“There’s a line between stinginess and spoiling and you’re too old and half-blind to see it, Pops!” Vandred yelled, looking back up to the ceiling.

As Yor and Anya continued to watch, Jack beckoned them to the nearby shelves full of toys, magazines, and other amusements.

“Best to just leave them to it,” he said quietly. “I hate to support the stereotype but with these two, it seems they really do just have to fight it out. Anyway, does anything catch either of your fancies? I'd be happy to pay!"

“Maybe if we stop by the weapons store,” Yor said as she glanced around. “There’s nothing much that interests me here. How about you, Anya?”

“Anya's looking," Anya said as she peered intently at the shelves, standing on her tiptoes when she tried to look at the higher rows. Then, she noticed something that made her gasp, and her eyes widen, too. "Mama, Mr. Jack, look! That man looks kind of like Papa!" she said, pointing a finger at it.

Yor followed her line of sight to a magazine rack, specifically to one titled “Spy Wars,” picked it up, and looked at the cover:

A man in a fancy suit like Loid’s and a mask around his eyes was running on the side of an elaborate castle, being chased and shot at by guards riding on the backs of flying monsters. From the spellslinger in one hand and the magical seals glowing on his shoes and in a short trail behind him, it was clear he was a magia, too.

“Huh, he really does kind of look like Loid,” Yor said, bending down so an eager Anya could see it, too. “He must be some kind of spy instead of a butler, though”

“Technically, Sir Bond is a landed knight but he may as well be one,” Jack said. “I don’t think anyone or the writers really care about him ignoring his territory, what with how much time he spends being anywhere but there.”

Meanwhile, Anya wasted no time flipping through the black-and-white pages, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the scenes drawn within. “So exciting!” she cried, eyes sparkling. “Mr. Jack! Mr. Jack! Anya wants this, Anya wants this!” Anya cried, holding it above her head with both hands.

“Sure, sure,” Jack said, smiling. “Might as well grab it since Diana might not have gotten this month’s issue yet, too.”

"Yay!" Anya cheered before she hugged her new copy.

“Is your sister a fan, Mr. Paladia?” Yor asked as she stood back up.

“She and Junior both are,” Jack replied. “The two of them just could not stop reading and talking about this. Dad enjoyed Spy Wars, too, but he mostly used it for inspiration for fancy gadgets and spells and ignored the rest. Speaking of which: don’t start trying to imitate the spells Sir Bond uses, okay, Anya?”

“Why not, Mr. Jack?” Anya asked.

Jack sighed. “If it’s not made up and impossible to replicate in reality, then it’s going to be something super dangerous that might end up with something getting broken, someone getting hurt, or someone getting arrested. Possibly all three at once, since none of us have a 'royal decree' that lets us do whatever we want with no consequences like Sir Bond does.

“Mother is a patient soul with a high tolerance for shenanigans, but she can still boil over if you keep the heat on too long, too high,” Jack said, shuddering.

“So what are those spells?” Anya asked. “Um, so Anya knows not to try them…?”

Jack looked like he didn’t buy it for a second. But still, he replied, “Off the top of my head: bombs that can blow open locks without shattering the door, the window, or the safe they’re attached to; some kind of special spellshot that’s always quiet no matter what he fires it from; and some sort of sensory spell that lets him see through people’s clothes and see if they’re hiding any metal keys, jewelry, or weapons underneath.

“There were a lot of things he could do, thanks to his PEC."

“What’s the Pee-Eee-Sea?” Anya asked.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Jack said. He bent his knees and pointed to a necklace on Sir Bond’s neck, prominently displayed with four differently shaped and presumably colored crystals on it. “See this thing?”

“Mhm?” Anya asked, interested.

“According to the story, it’s the Portable Elemental Converter, a miracle device that lets Sir Bond use spells from any of the four elements. I think the earlier issues may have said that anything aside from Air magic would be weaker because it has to change to a different element first, but nowadays, Sir Bond just uses Earth, Water, or Fire as good as a mage who was born with it.”

“That sounds really cool!” Anya cried.

“Yeah, a whole lot of other mages agree, they'd love to have one," Jack said as he stood back up. "Shame it doesn't exist and probably never will."

“Aww, why not?” Anya asked.

“I don’t know how to explain it ‘properly’ since I never took Foundations of Magic or Arcane Engineering like Dad and Diana did,” Jack replied, “but from what I hear, it’s just too difficult to change the ‘fundamental essences of an element.’’

“The funda-essa-what-now?” Anya asked, with Yor looking equally as confused.

“Best to just ask your Papa for a better explanation later, but I think it's got something with Water magical energy being cold, wet, and easy to manipulate compared to something like Earth magical energy," Jack said.

Anya nodded and Yor nodded, somewhat following along.

“But if you want to change Water magical energy to another element, you’ve got to change one or all of those parts of it," Jack said. "So, uh, I guess if you want to make it into Fire magical energy, you've got to find some way to change one or all of those things, like from cold and wet, you make it hot and dry, instead. But, then you have to make it so hot and dry that it'd work for whatever spell you're trying to cast, or else you won't get the result you wanted or it just won't work, period."

Anya and Yor slowly stopped nodding and looked confused.

"Yeah, as I said, ask your Papa later," Jack replied, looking embarrassed. “Ultimately, though, I think you’re going to get the same answer, just explained better: the PEC is just not going to happen.”

“But what about changing to just one element?” Yor asked. “Is that possible?”

“I mean, I’m no scientist like Dad was, but it does sound simpler and easier to do,” Jack replied. “But still, why would you need to do it? If you’re a Water mage and you need Fire magic, it’s just a lot easier and cheaper to get a Fire mage to help you than try to do it all by yourself, somehow.

“It’s also not as if we haven’t been inventing magical tools that just take mana from anyone or anything to work, like the lights or the heat crystals in the oven. They may only do one or two things, but like Dad always said, sometimes an invention doesn't need to do anything new or do a lot, it just has to do one thing a lot better than anything before it."

“So, Mr. Jack is saying Anya can never be cool and cast other types of magic like Sir Bond…?” Anya asked, disappointed.

“Probably… but who knows?" Jack said, smiling. "Dad also always said that a lot of the inventions we can't live without today and can't imagine living without were just ideas in someone's head at some point.

“Heck, maybe you can be the one to invent a real-life PEC or something like it if you decide you want to be an arcane engineer like Dad was when you grow up."

“Is being an arcane engineer hard?” Anya asked.

“Yeah, Dad told me it's real tough," Jack said. "You have to deal with a lot of disappointment when you can't make your ideas work outside your head; fail to convince other folks to help you make it, especially when money is involved; and especially when you have to shelve or trash projects completely when it's obvious it's just not going to work or get results in the time you need it to.

“But, there was nothing he wanted to do more in life, he didn't want to live if he had to stop inventing or couldn't do it, so a lifelong career at the University of Port Illyria was for him," Jack said. "I guess it's not a career you'd want to take if you'd rather be doing anything else."

“Like being a cool magic knight like Sir Bond?” Anya asked, eyes beginning to twinkle again.

Jack nodded. “I mean, you could be. But, since you need to have some incredible skills, talents, and connections to even be considered for the job, maybe you should aim for something more normal first?

“Maybe you could be a servant like your Papa was; there’s no shortage of nobles and rich merchants that’d be happy to hire a capable magia for help in and around Port Illyria, that’s for sure.”

“Aww, but Anya wants to be a cool mage and go on adventures like Mama and Papa do!” Anya whined. “Anya doesn’t want to clean all the time!”

“I mean, you could still go on adventures if you find the right employer,” Jack said. “Dad was officially a tenured researcher and spent most of his time doing research in labs, but he still got to go on monster-hunting jobs for the University.”

“Mr. Jojo hunted monsters, too?" Anya asked, curious.

“I’m surprised, too,” Yor said. “Couldn’t they just go to the Hunter’s Guild for that?”

“Yes, and from what I heard, they don't go to the Hunter's Guild because it's a matter of cost and time," Jack said. "It can be hard to get regular hunters interested in a job from the University, if it doesn't pay as well or better than all the other contracts they could be doing instead. It could be stuck on the board for weeks with no takers, which could stall research for even longer.

“So, the University has things like the ‘Research Materials Acquisition Division,’ basically a mix of professional hunters who prefer working for the University and scientists who want their research progressing, even if it means they have to go out and kill something themselves. Though, with Dad, he could have also just been eager for the change of pace.”

Yor nodded. “How did he fight?”

“Using a spear like me, too, but he used an enchanted two-handed one,” Jack said. “With his magic and how fast he could move, Dad had the luxury of not needing a shield or much armor. If anything, it’d just slow him down.

“Ms. Kass must still have it, actually; we sold it to her for safekeeping because we didn’t have anywhere we could store it for the long-term, and she promised she’d give us part of the sale if she ever did, which she hasn’t yet.”

“Can we go find out if it's still there?" Yor asked, her ears perking up in excitement.

But then, Jack looked pained, she stopped smiling as her ears drooped back down.

“Mr. Paladia?” Yor asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No—well, yes,” Jack said, looking down. “I was part of the team that tried to see if Dad was still alive or at the very least, recover his body for burial. But his spear was the only thing we found of him...”

“Ah," Yor said. "I don't want to do it if it brings back painful memories for you..."

"No, let's go and see Kass," Jack said as he looked up. "Honestly, maybe it'd be good for me, too."

“Are you sure?" Yor asked. "I'd be happy looking at some other weapons; Captain Aleina did mention the museum."

“I’m sure,” Jack said, nodding. “This is the first time I’ve talked about Dad this much to anyone outside the family in a long while. It feels… well, I can't describe it, but I feel I should probably keep doing it.

“Putting that aside, maybe even one of you could get some use of Dad’s old spear,” Jack said. “With some modifications, even you could use wield it despite not having magic, Mrs. Forger.”

“And Anya too?” Anya asked eagerly.

“Sorry, probably not for several years and unless you grow up plenty, Anya,” Jack said, shaking his head. “That spear was almost as tall as Dad was. Unless we chop off most of the shaft, you’d probably struggle to even get it off the ground, let alone swing and stab properly with it.”

“Aww...” Anya said.

Jack glanced past the shelves and said, “It looks like Van is done restocking. How about I e pay for that comic, get what we came for, and then head over to the weapon store?” he said, smiling.

“Sounds good to me,” Yor said, nodding.

And so, with Anya clutching her copy of Spy Wars, they headed for the counter, which Vandred was now sitting behind.

“Sorry for the wait!" Vandred said, smiling and wiping some sweat off his brow with a towel. "What can I get you, folks?"

“Two bottles of Mother’s painkillers and a four-pack of energy potions for me, Van,” Jack said as he took his coin pouch off his belt. “Also, ring us up on one copy of the latest Spy Wars.”

“You got it, Jack!” Van said, getting off his chair and walking back to the alchemical shelf.

“Mrs. Polly needs painkillers?” Yor asked.

“Yeah,” Jack said, nodding sadly. “She broke her hip in a bad accident nearly a year ago. We couldn’t afford to get her the top-of-the-line treatment, so it was regular surgery and then slowly getting back to normal over the next months. It doesn’t flare up nearly as bad as it did at the start, but it still gets bad every now and again, and we can’t exactly afford to suddenly close the restaurant because our head chef can’t work.

“On a related note, this is why I’m extremely happy you two are going to help us with the restaurant moving forward,” Jack said. “Some nights, those energy potions are the only things keeping me awake and focused during a shift and I'd rather quit sooner than later before I get one of the worse long-term side effects."

“Like what?” Yor asked.

“Like, ah, being unable to sleep for a few days straight,” Jack said, sheepishly looking to the side. “I’m already feeling the lighter ones sometimes, like not being able to sleep at night until the sun’s already up or suddenly getting tired out of nowhere when it should still be working.”

“That sounds dangerous, especially at the restaurant,” Yor said, concerned. “If you get tired at the wrong time, you might fall and crack your head on a table or slip on a knife and stab yourself.”

“Yeah, I could…?” Jack said, confused and concerned.

“It makes me even more determined to do a good job helping at the restaurant now, Mr. Paladia, so you don't need to rely on these energy drinks anymore," Yor said, nodding.

“Thanks?” Jack said, still concerned.

“You’re welcome,” Yor said, smiling obliviously.

“No offense, Mrs. Forger,” Vandred said as he returned with the alchemicals, “but I’m starting to see why Pops seems to like you so much.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, I gotta ask: why all the interest in weapons?” Jack asked as the three of them walked to Kass’s store. “I mean, I know it’s not that strange, considering how familiar you are with weapons and fighting and all. But still, I’m curious.”

“I’m sorry, it’s as lost as most of my other memories,” Yor said, looking sad with her ears drooping slightly. “But, I can tell you that looking at weapons and handling them makes me really excited!” she said, perking up again.

“I can’t help but think: what are they made of? Why were they designed this way and how might have they been created? What sort of damage will this do on an intended target, like a monster or a humanoid, and how effective will it be in terms of lethality or inflicting injury? Even if all weapons are meant to harm, protect, and kill, there are so many different ways they can do that, not to mention the many more ways any one type of weapon can be wielded thanks to all the many different styles that have developed from them!

“You were a hunter, Mr. Paladia, don’t you feel the same?” Yor asked with an expectant look.

“Well, no,” Jack said, shrugging. “When it comes to weapons, I think of it like the kitchen utensils at home: what’s going to do the job I need to do? I don’t get excited thinking about how well a flycatcher is going to help me ground and take down winged monsters, any more than I get excited about how a mandolin slicer is getting me nice, thin cuts better than I could with a knife.”

“Oh,” Yor said, disappointed. “Did you know other hunters that felt the same, though?”

“Yeah, but those were the hunters who were also collectors, weapons merchants, or blacksmiths like Kass. They were something of a...” Jack looked troubled as he looked for words, “… memorable bunch, in my experience.”

“What do you mean?” Yor asked, confused and concerned.

“Anya thinks Mr. Jack means they were weird!” Anya piped up helpfully.

Jack looked alarmed, Yor noticed and frowned. “Oh… I see. Thank you, Anya,” she said.

“You’re welcome, Mama!” Anya said innocently, too late in noticing the change in the mood.

The three of them awkwardly walked in silence for a few seconds.

“Umm, is this obsession of mine with weapons weird, Mr. Paladia?” Yor asked. “Should I stop? I don’t want Loid and Anya getting a bad reputation because of me, especially with how badly I screwed up with the Numbing Death already.”

“Maybe it is, but I don’t think you should stop, Mrs. Forger,” Jack said, smiling. “It seems to make you really happy. Also, Dad pretty much did nothing to hide how weird he could be and almost everybody liked him. Though, I guess things didn’t work as well for Junior when tried to do the same...” he muttered, looking to the side.

“What happened with him?” Yor asked.

Jack paused and then shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t want to talk badly about Junior while he’s not here.”

“Is Mr. Junior away somewhere, like on a hunting job like Mr. Jack was?” Anya asked.

“Maybe, maybe he’s working some other trade,” Jack said, shrugging and looking down. “We haven’t heard from him in a long while...”

Yor and Anya both looked confused, glanced at each other, back at Jack, and then silently decided not to press the subject.

Thankfully, Kass’s shop was just a short walk and a bridge away from the town square. They stepped through the door and just like yesterday, that same metal bell started ringing. Unlike yesterday, however, Kass was behind the counter and talking to Gazyl, who was perched on the other side.

“Ah, welcome!” Kass said, turning in the general direction of the door.

“Hey Jack, Yor, and you too, Kid,” Gazyl said, lazily waving with one hand. “What brings you three here?”

“Personally, I hope there’s a replacement for that jar of wine last night somewhere,” Kass said, chuckling.

“I’m sorry, what was that about a replacement?” Yor asked as the three of them walked through the aisles. “I was drunk for most of last night and I can’t remember much from then.”

“Just ‘drunk’…?” Gazyl asked, sighing and looking exasperated.

Kass ignored him and calmly explained, “Last night, Gazyl and I were drinking some special wine I had bought for the occasion. We shared some with you and when you asked for some more to go, you took the jar with you.”

“Oh, did I?” Yor asked, eyes widening in surprise. “I’m really sorry about that! I don’t have any money with me right now, but once I do, I swear I’ll get you a replacement jar or at least pay you back!”

Kass chuckled. “Don’t let it weigh on your mind so heavily. I’m not too upset about it, especially since there was replacement alcohol flowing like water everywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Yor asked as the three of them reached the counter.

Kass nodded. “I value being good to my neighbors more than I do what that wine was worth.”

“Oh, okay,” Yor said, relaxing. “If I do come into some money in the future though, I would like to get you a replacement anyway or a different gift. I think that’s what a good neighbor would do, too.”

“I would appreciate that,” Kass said, smiling. “So, with that out of the way: I’m assuming you came to my store for some other reason than wine?”

“Yeah, Kass,” Jack said, nodding. “You wouldn’t happen to still have Dad’s old spear in storage, would you?”

“I do," Kass said, her expression and tone becoming somber. "What do you need, specifically? Buy it back from me or help connect you with a buyer?"

“I was just hoping you could show it off to Mrs. Forger here, actually,” Jack said as he pointed to her. “We got to talking about Dad and his old hunting jobs for the University earlier, and she got real curious about what his weapon looks like.”

“Ah, I see!” Kass said, brightening up. “A fellow weapons enthusiast, Mrs. Forger?”

Yor nodded. “I can’t remember why but I know I like weapons, bladed ones especially!”

“Pardon me while I get it from the back, then,” Kass said as she turned around. “We should head outside to the testing ground for you to examine it properly; you won’t be able to appreciate its full glory without plenty of space for you to move and everyone else to stand clear.”

“Mind if I join up?” Gazyl said as he hopped off the counter. “I don’t really have much on my schedule right now, since Al is forcing me to stay here in town for a while.”

“I don’t mind,” Yor said.

“Thanks,” Gazyl said.

“So why is Captain Lady keeping Gazyl here?” Anya asked.

Gazyl sighed, his ears and tail flattening as he said, “Two reasons. The first is that she’s punishing me by temporarily removing my freedom to operate in and around Reinesburg since I kept her in the dark about our plan to permanently kill Ullgar with Forger's help."

Yor nodded. “And what’s the second?”

“When the city guard inevitably comes to take you to Port Illyria to be charged, Al wants me to be ready to join you on that barge as your character witness ASAP, and look presentable, too,” Gazyl said. “After all, being covered in mud, blood, and grass stains while smelling like death, wild animals, and your own spit doesn’t exactly scream ‘totally trustworthy witness!’ to a court jury.”

Yor nodded. “I see. Do you need any help getting clean again?”

“Thanks, but no thanks, I already got that covered,” Gazyl said, waving her off. “I just came from the bathhouse here in town and paid extra to let Lyria’s cleaner slimes do what they do best. Assuming the guard arrives here within 1-2 days, as we expect, I shouldn't need to go back for another full-body cleaning. Which is good, because I do not want to go through all of that again any time soon!” he said, shuddering.

“Is there something wrong with the bathhouse?” Anya asked, worried.

“Nope, not at all, Kid,” Gazyl said, shaking his head. “The problem’s more me than them. I just really don't like having to get undressed and clean myself in public places. Lyria may have been nice enough to give me a private bath at a discount, but just knowing there are other people right outside gets me a bit on edge."

“Why?” Anya asked, curious.

“It’s complicated and I don’t want to explain, Kid,” Gazyl said flatly. One of his ears pricked, he turned his head in its direction, then said, “And it looks like Kass already found Jojo’s spear.”

“Indeed I did,” Kass said, coming back out carrying a polearm wrapped in thick cloth with elaborate, magical-looking stitching. “I’ll head outside first, follow me after; I don’t want to accidentally smack any of you.”

“Wow, it’s really long!” Anya said as she watched Kass struggle a bit to carry Jojo’s spear out the doorway and past the counters and shelves without hitting anything.

“Your father must have been a giant, if that’s supposed to be almost as tall as he was,” Yor said.

Gazyl snorted and said, “Yeah, ‘stretched out’ is more like it. Man instinctively ducked his head every time he went through a door, under an arch, or a bridge, and if we went through a forest, he had a helmet on. Yet, I have literally seen the wind sweep him off his feet if he wasn't expecting it."

“It sounds like you knew him well, Gazyl,” Yor said as they began to head out after Kass.

“Not that well,” Gazyl said, “but since Jojo was also a hunter for the University, it was kind of inevitable we’d party up and work together sometimes. I didn’t take that many contracts with the University, though, so he was just an acquaintance to me.”

“Was there a reason you didn’t do more jobs for the University?” Yor asked as they went out the side door.

“The pay after a job is done is what," Gazyl said, groaning. "Port Illyria U will guarantee regular work, cover transportation, partially cover supplies, and screen out the worst hunters for you, so you're sure every party is going to at least be competent and free of the usual glory hounds, the terminally greedy, and other fatally flawed folks that can doom a contract and/or a party.

“But, none of that is free on their end, and it shows with the compensation rates, especially compared to the Hunter’s Guild’s usual compensation rates.”

Yor nodded. “So they’re not very good employers?” she asked.

“Depends on you,” Gazyl said, shrugging and then leaning against one of the posts behind the firing line. “Hunters who don’t have sponsors like a trading company or can’t compete to break through to Silver rank onward tend to like the steady supply of predictable jobs. I hear it's also popular for hunters with families since University jobs tend to minimize risks and especially avoid casualties.

“You’re often going to have tenured professors, engineers, and researchers with you as clients to escort or party members, so you all generally play it safe.”

“You wouldn’t think Jojo was doing that with how his spear would end up each time he came in for maintenance, though," Kass said, chuckling as she put Jojo's spear down on a table and began to unwrap it. "And now, behold, Jojo's old weapon."

Kass picked it up and turned around, the bright midday sunlight hit the spear and made all its many metal components glow bright.

Yor gasped in appreciation before she came up for a closer look.

It was a very long weapon, nearly 2 meters in length from top to bottom. The head was a long, flat, leaf-shaped piece of metal, the edges sharpened and with gaps punctured along their length, as it was with Gazyl’s knives. The sturdy wooden shaft had some sort of runic engravings all over it, with metal bands for reinforcement or perhaps some magical purpose Yor could not tell. And finally, the bottom had a blunt piece of metal attached to it, probably a counter-balance for its extreme length or something to smack targets around with.

“Can I hold it?” Yor asked Jack. “I would love to practice with it, so I can see how it handles myself.”

“Sure and sure, you obviously know what you’re doing,” Jack said, nodding and giving a thumbs up. “Kass, hand it to her, will you?”

“Certainly,” Kass said as she did.

“Thank you,” Yor said, her eyes sparkling as she carefully touched the shaft, the blade, and felt the spear’s heft in her hands. “It’s so light for something so long and adorned with metal!”

“Jojo primarily used it as an amplifier for his magical powers, since he already fights his best at a distance,” Kass explained as she raised a hand and brought a training dummy over from the corner. “Now, step past the line before you start swinging and mind when you strike where you can’t see; you’d be surprised at how far that thing can reach, even without magic.”

“I will!" Yor said as she gripped it carefully and then walked away. "Stand back, everyone! You especially, Anya, I don't want to accidentally hurt you most of all!"

“Aww, but Anya wanted to see Mr. Jojo’s spear up close!” Anya said. “It looks really cool!”

“Please obey your mother, little one,” Kass said as she stood back with Jack and Anya. “It also would be best for all of us if you don’t even touch that weapon, you might accidentally awaken it from its slumber.”

“Is it really that dangerous even though Anya is so young?" Yor asked as she looked back and rested the spear's bottom on the ground.

“Perhaps not, but it’s never good to risk it,” Kass said, shaking her head. “We already know her father is a magia of incredible skill and power, which makes me even warier of Anya’s capabilities despite her young age.”

“But Ms. Kass let Anya be near Papa when Papa got weapons?” Anya asked.

“Your father can forcibly silence their singing if he has to, little one," Kass replied. "Your mother cannot and I'd rather not have to step in to stop an accidental discharge today."

“What about Gazyl?” Anya asked, turning to him.

“I’m not touching that thing, Kid,” Gazyl said, shaking his head. “It’s not just that I don’t want to handle the weapon of a dead man I barely knew or that it’s way too long for me to handle without tripping myself.

“Magical weapons are like leather shoes or clothes, they change to fit whoever uses them over time. Sometimes to the point that they’re not going to work for anyone else, so I don’t want to risk it rejecting me and face the consequences.”

“That also happens to be why we sold it to Kass in the first place,” Jack added. “Dad hadn’t even thought he’d need to find a successor and we couldn’t spare the time to find one for him after he died. We don't have any place we can safely store it at our house, too, since Dad always used his locker at the University."

“Is that dangerous?” Yor asked.

“Very," Kass said, nodding gravely. "Even if Jojo's spear was completely drained, improper storage may lead to some of its sensitive components being damaged; not only is this expensive to fix, it could even utterly ruin a weapon. There could also be accidents when the materials themselves start to rot and degrade, they begin to release the mana inside them for other things to absorb, or they transform into hazardous substances. It's what tends to happen if they're accidentally exposed to the elements like rain, heat, or salty sea air.

“In short, it might be helpful to think of enchanted weapons as if they were alive,” Kass said. “They have feelings and preferences, need to be handled with care, and not everyone can wield them nor can they handle them.”

“Isn’t that kinda weird?” Anya asked.

“These weapons already sing, don’t they, little one?”

Anya paused before she nodded and looked like she understood.

“So, since we don’t have anyone who can safely make Jojo’s spear sing again, how about we just watch your mother make it dance, little one?” Kass asked.

Anya sighed before nodded. “Okay.”

“So is everything alright there now?” Yor asked.

“Yes, Mama!” Anya said. “Anya will just watch from here…”

“Thank you, Anya!” Yor said. “And everyone else, too!”

“Don’t mention it,” Kass said.

“Let’s see some action now, Yor!” Gazyl said, laughing.

“Okay!” Yor said before she got to work.

She started making simple thrusts and slashes against the training dummy, surprised and pleased by just how effortless each one felt. The spear moved with such grace and speed, almost feeling weightless as Yor barely had to put in the strength to get it to move—almost as if it was made of air, she thought, smiling.

And now that Yor knew how to handle it, she decided to do something a little more complex.

Yor made a wide, sweeping slash from the ground to high above her head!

Whoosh! Stray pieces of hay went flying up, more fell out of the freshly made gash.

She smashed the weighted bottom on the dummy’s “face,” likely breaking a nose or denting a metal helmet if it were a real opponent.

Yor imagined the dummy screaming and staggering back, blindly flailing its arms forward, hoping to hit her.

Yor gracefully leaped backward, spinning the spear around with another rush of air.

Then, when one foot had touched the ground again—

Stomp! Shink!

She lunged and thrust the point deep into the dummy’s chest.

Crick. The wooden post cracked and bent backward from the force.

Yor felt a bit of wobble and shake as some of it traveled back up the shaft, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She pulled it back out with ease, resting the spear on the ground as she touched the gigantic gouge she'd made.

The hay stuffing was falling out of it, her fingers told her the wound was deep and clean, just one big split than several smaller ones.

“What would this have looked like if I had magic…?” Yor asked herself, fascinated.

“It'd probably be a smoldering, smoking wreck or a cloud of splinters and debris, depending on what kind of enchantment you used on it,” Gazyl replied. “Generally, an attack like that’s going to put in a lot of energy and/or air pressure, both of which will naturally want a way out, which often ends in explode-y manners.”

“Oh, that sounds like it’d be extremely useful in combat!” Yor said. “Shame I don’t have magic...” she said, her ears drooping once more.

“Take heart!” Kass said. ”Should Jack be willing and you interested, I could always just modify Jojo’s spear to let you use it,” Kass said. “It will significantly increase the weight of the weapon, will be reliant on you fueling it regularly with alchemicals, and have much less flexible applications than if a mage were using it. However, you will now be able to use magical attacks on top of your already formidable martial skill.”

“Heck, maybe Ullgar wouldn’t have been able to bother you for so long if you had enchanted weapons and knew how to brew elemental alchemicals on the field as well as you do poisons," Gazyl added.

“Anya thinks that sounds really cool!” Anya cried.

“And I'd be okay with the modification if you are!" Jack said. "It's always bothered me that Dad's old spear has just been stuck in a box for almost a year now. He'd have wanted someone else to have it, especially someone who could do so much good with it like you."

Yor paused and thought about it, her expression alternating between excitement and concern. Then, finally, she said, “I think the offer’s really tempting! But I’ll have to pass, for now. I don’t want to go on hunts unless I have to, so I can be sure I’m around to help take care of Anya and help at the restaurant, too.

“So I think Mr. Paladia’s spear should go back to storage for now,” Yor said as she carried it back.

Anya was disappointed but the rest understood, Jojo’s spear was wrapped back up and then they headed back inside.

“By the way,” Kass said as she carried Jojo’s spear again. “Have you considered taking your usual knives in, Mrs. Forger?”

“You mean for maintenance?” Yor asked.

“Yes,” Kass said. “Fighting off Ullgar and using them constantly for the past 6 weeks may have damaged or worn them in ways invisible to the naked eye, or rather, one without magic. But aside from that… if you’ll let me have a close look at your weapons, I may be able to help uncover a part of your past.”

Yor and Anya’s both gasped, eyes widening in excitement.

Chapter Text

“Ms. Kass can figure out where Mama came from?!” Anya cried as they headed back into the store.

“With much luck, perhaps I can give us a place to start searching in this wide world of ours," Kass replied as she opened the side door. "Depending on how the knives were manufactured and especially what materials they were made of and where those were likely sourced, I can start trying to figure out where they had come from and you may have, as well, Mrs. Forger.”

“I didn’t know my knives could tell you that much!” Yor said.

“Yeah!” Anya added, nodding her head. “That’s exciting!”

Kass chuckled and said, “It’s a very niche technique that’s usually only used by and useful for blacksmiths and weapons traders like myself. Also much dryer and boring than you’re probably thinking off, little one,” she added as she came in with the spear.

“But how exactly does it work?” Yor asked as she and the others followed suit. “I want to learn as much as I can about magic, since my new family are all magia!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Anya said, nodding. “Anya wants to know, please, Ms. Kass.”

“Ah, such bright lights of enthusiasm!” Kass said as she went back behind the counter. “Who am I to snuff them prematurely when I can feed them instead? This will take a few minutes to explain, so let me put Jojo’s spear away first.”

“Okay, Ms. Kass!” Anya said.

Kass returned Jojo’s spear to the backroom, and when she returned, everyone was standing in front of or sitting on the counter, Anya looking especially eager.

“Still curious?” Kass asked.

“Mhmm!” both Yor and Anya went.

Kass chuckled before she put on a serious expression. “So, first, I’ll have to get Mrs. Forger’s knives in my workshop, where I have the tools and the peace and quiet to examine its design and how it functions. Weapons of a certain region are almost always shaped by the threats they defend against and the conditions they will have to face.

“For example, many swords built for Port Illyria’s sailors are designed to be used with one hand, are short and agile to fight in the tight corridors of a ship, and are just as useful for sawing through sturdy mariner’s ropes as they are cutting down pirates and monsters attempting to board. Assuming it’s constructed well, these blades will be coated in specific oils, powders, and enchantments to keep salty sea air and seawater from eating away the metal and rendering them useless. Sailors may be out at sea for weeks to months, after all, so they can’t just make a stop to buy a replacement if they happen to need it.”

Yor and Anya both nodded.

“This is just going from what Gazyl said," Kass said, "but I'm guessing Mrs. Forger's knives must have been made in a very mineral-rich region, rife with poisonous wildlife and plants, yet its civilization must have thrived and prospered to at least the level of a thriving metropolis like Port Illyria."

“What about it exactly makes you say that?” Yor asked.

“I’ll have to turn to Gazyl, since he’s the only other person who has and can see them,” Kass said, having a little laugh to herself.

“Sure thing," Gazyl said. "Yor's knives are incredibly fancy, are very easily concealable in that fancy dress of hers, and they have some expensive design decisions which imply whoever owns them can afford to maintain them constantly, in time and cash, alongside having reliable access to experts like Kass over here.

“If they were created for a wilder, less developed place, they’d be more practical and less flashy, like having wooden or leather handles which would be cheaper and handle roughing it out in the elements better, along with being easy to replace without having to toss the rest of the blade.

“However, they’re made entirely of solid metal so far as I can see. Extremely thin and lengthy, too, without edges, meaning you don’t have as many uses for them like cutting ropes or vines, wedging them into things for leverage, or even slicing attacks in combat. They’re made to stab, poison their targets, and then get cleaned and oiled soon after, probably at an inn or a workshop than by a campfire in the wilds.

“Not to mention they look like they're made of gold, for whatever reason. Unless that's some magical coating I haven't heard about, you generally don't make your weapons gold or gold-like. If you tried to hunt in the wilds, flashiness like that will only give your position away to prey while you stalked them, so Yor and I were lucky she could draw and use them from complete concealment.

“In short, these were meant to be seen and shown off to others, not just do their jobs as killing tools."

Yor and Anya both nodded. “Mr. Paladia did mention that I may have been an arena fighter before,” Yor said.

“Yeah, that checks out,” Gazyl said, nodding. “Golden weapons tend to be a classic for anyone who needs to work up a crowd.”

“Thank you for your help, Gazyl, I'll take over from here," Kass said as she looked in his direction.

“Any time,” Gazyl said, waving his hand.

Yor turned back to Yor and Anya, “Now, even after I finish studying the knives form and manufacturing process, we will still have a too-long list of potential origins to be useful. Hence, we use materials analysis to narrow it down even further.”

“What’s that?” Anya asked.

“I’ll use my magic to study the composition and structure of your mother’s knives beyond what normal eyes can see,” Kass said. “Among other things, I’ll examine what they look like beneath the surface.”

“Beneath the surface…?” Anya asked.

“Have you ever seen a piece of cooked pork, then it was cut open, and now you can see all the many little white stringy bits that were inside?” Kass asked.

“Uh huh?” Anya continued, nodding.

“It’s something like that, only without needing to slice open Mrs. Forger’s knives first,” Kass said.

“Uh huh,” Anya went, satisfied.

Meanwhile, Yor sighed. “That makes me feel relieved; I was kind of worried I might lose a knife or two from that.”

Kass smiled. “Please, Mrs. Forger, you’ll be forgiven for not knowing, but we have long, long gone past the stage when such a thorough analysis entails that level of destruction.

“Anyway, once that is done, I’ll call upon the University of Port Illyria’s help to compare the knives’ properties to other weapons similar to it, and figure out the best match for a shared origin. It’s similar to how you can tell if someone is from the Hexie Alliance or descended from their citizens, by the shapes of their eyes, the texture of their hair, and the color of their skin.”

“The University keeps track of all that?” Yor asked. “I don’t mind, but it feels like a very strange thing to do.”

“It’s not so strange when you consider it from the perspective of anti-smuggling and anti-counterfeiting measures,” Kass replied. “If your documentation says all of your weapons are made of 90% Santiana Steel but an analysis proves otherwise, there will be hell to pay for whoever sold it and possibly even whoever tried to bring it into the city.”

“It’s that serious?” Yor asked.

Kass nodded. “Though you could say that the supplier of illegal items is at fault, in practice, the ones delivering them into Port Illyria often know of their cargo’s illicit nature but choose to keep quiet. If nothing else, it encourages legitimate businesses to be very thorough with their inventory, documentation, and background checks, which in turn helps the city run very smoothly.

“Everyone is happy if a ship’s paperwork is in order and it merely needs to be waved on through than boarded and inspected."

“Uh, Ms. Kass, if you don’t mind me butting in?” Jack said.

“I was just about finished, go ahead, Jack,” Kass said.

“Thanks,” Jack said, nodding. “Anyway, Dad and Diana also rely on the University’s Material Analysis Register for their work. It helps them figure out what they can use for a project, what it can do, where to get it, and especially what sorts of problems may come up.

“Dad may be fine if another prototype literally blows up in his face because the materials he used couldn’t handle the stress he put it through. But, Diana and the Civil Engineering Department can hardly afford the canals, the roads, and especially the pipes breaking down because someone built it with the wrong materials or wrong process from the start.”

“It's also a blow to Port Illyria's pride since it loves to laud itself as having some of the best architecture and infrastructure in the world," Kass added. "Songs have literally been written about some of its landmarks, after all."

“Like what?” Anya said.

“It’s a lot better if you get to see the sights for yourself, Kid,” Gazyl said. “Aside from the fact that it’s more exciting that way, it’s kinda hard to put into words. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to do that after your Mama gets sentenced and your Papa bails her out.”

Anya nodded. “Anya’s excited to go to Port Illyria now!” she said as she threw her arms up.

Then, her stomach rumbled noisily.

Almost everyone smiled or chuckled at it.

“Maybe we should get back to the restaurant and get us all some lunch first,” Jack said. “Mother and Mr. Forger might get worried if come home really late.”

“Would you mind if I join you?” Kass said. “I wasn’t thinking of anything particular for lunch and it would be a good opportunity for me to collect Mrs. Forger’s knives as well.”

“Same here,” Gazyl said. “My lunch plans for today were supposed to be going out to kill or catch it, but Al’s ban put a stop to that.”

“You’re both welcome,” Jack said. “Mother’s always happy to have more people for meals, after all.”

“Go on ahead of me and wait outside, then,” Kass said. “It’ll take me a while to lock up the shop and make sure everything is secure.”

“We’ll see you outside, Kass,” Gazyl said as he and the others headed outside.

As they stepped out the shop’s door, they could see the other residents of Reinesburg getting ready for lunch, too.

The sun was already rising high in the sky, shadows growing short or disappearing altogether, except under parasols being opened over tables or awnings being unfolded by food vendors, be they carts parked along the street or on boats anchored near the docks. Other folks who had been running errands were beginning to flock to them or head across the bridge to the town square. Other store owners and employees were already beginning to put up “Out to Lunch” signs as they locked up.

All the while, the air was beginning to fill with the smells of cooking and smoke billowing out of chimney stacks and from grills and stoves, the sounds of folks idly chatting and discussing what to get for lunch, and the voices of barkers and peddlers beckoning you over.

“Ah! Mrs. Forger! What a happy coincidence!”

It wasn’t so noisy that they wouldn’t have noticed Na-bi calling out to Yor, however.

Yor and the others turned around and saw Na-bi just stepping out of Vahlen’s tailor shop.

“Hello,” Yor said, “umm, you’re Na-bi, right?”

“That I am!” Na-bi replied, smiling. “Do you happen to have about 10-20 minutes free right now, Mrs. Forger? Master Vahlen’s just about finished with creating everyday clothes for you, this seems like a great time to check the fit and ask for any adjustments!”

“Oh, I'm not sure if I can," Yor replied. "We're just waiting for Ms. Kass to finish locking up before we head to lunch together at the Paladia's restaurant."

“Oh, go ahead, Mrs. Forger,” Jack said, waving his hand. “I don’t think Kass or Mother will mind, so long as we’re not so late that everything gets cold.”

“I’m with Jack, you really should consider getting something other than that dress ASAP,” Gazyl said. “Here at Reinesburg, we know what’s the deal, but if you go into Port Illyria’s streets in that thing, you might attract the wrong kind of attention all over again.”

“Are there wild monsters even in Port Illyria?” Yor asked, worried and confused.

“No, it’s--” Gazyl said before he groaned and shook his head. “It’s not monsters, but we’ll waste too much time explaining. You just go on inside and see what Vahlen’s got for ya.”

“Okay!” Yor said.

“Thank you!” Na-bi said, bowing and smiling. “Oh, I forgot to mention, but you gentlemen ought to stay outside. Master Vahlen made sure to get Mrs. Forger a complete set of clothes including, ahem, unmentionables.”

"Oh, um, I see," Jack said, blushing and nodding in understanding while Gazyl just said, "You don't have to tell me twice."

“What’s ‘unmen-shu-nables?” Anya said as Na-bi opened the door.

“Underwear, Anya,” Na-bi said discreetly. “Your Mama’s going to have to get naked to try everything on.”

“Okay…?” Anya asked, confused.

Thankfully, Anya didn’t have any more questions, Yor picked her up, Na-bi shut the door behind them, then they ascended the stairs up to the workshop.

“Master Vahlen!” Na-bi called out as they climbed. “I happened to run into Mrs. Forger outside and she agreed to try on the new clothes right now!”

“Ah, the light of fortune shines upon us!” Vahlen called back. “Please, do come up! Is her family with her?”

“Just Ms. Anya,” Na-bi replied.

“Ah, I suppose this will have to be a surprise to Mr. Forger, then!” Vahlen said.

They reached the top of the stairs, Anya waved and said, “Hi again, Mr. Vahlen!”

“Good day to you, Ms. Anya, and you, as well, Mrs. Forger!” Vahlen said, bowing slightly before he gestured to a rack and a table beside him. “As Ms. Nam must have told you, your new everyday clothes are complete and waiting for you to try them.”

“That was so fast!" Yor said. "You didn't overwork yourself trying to get it done, did you? I think it was right about this time yesterday that you got the order, to begin with."

“Not at all!” Vahlen said, shaking his head. “Decades of training and working as a surgeon have made my hands swift and precise.” He looked to the side for a moment and muttered, “Plus, all that time cutting and serving cake with Shen made me desperate to do something less painfully monotonous.

“Now, come: see if you’d like to put this on!” Vahlen said, smiling as he pulled a sweater dress from the rack, flipping it around and showing it off to Yor and Anya.

Both of them oohed and aahed at the design and the craftsmanship.

“Since you were so kind as to let me have artistic freedom with the design,” Vahlen said, “I decided not to stray too far from the daring nature of your original dress while still prioritizing comfort and decency in public.”

“Can I touch it?” Yor asked.

“But of course!” Vahlen replied. “You will be wearing it daily and if you just so happen to dislike its feeling on your skin or are allergic to the material, I’d rather know now than have you suffer later.”

Yor reached out and rubbed her fingers between one of the sleeves.

“Me too, Mama, me too!” Anya said, reaching out for it.

Yor pulled it up for Anya to reach, she rubbed her hands on it before she pressed it against her cheek.

“Soft and warm...” Anya sighed.

“It feels so high quality, doesn’t it?” Yor said. “Did you use something expensive, Mr. Vahlen?”

“Yes, steelspider silk like the protective lining of your husband’s jacket, except woven to emphasize comfort and breathability rather than protection against projectiles,” Vahlen replied. “The pants and the underwear are made of a particularly durable strain of enchanted cotton.”

“You didn’t have to spend so much since you’re already doing the work for free, Mr. Vahlen,” Yor said.

“Oh, Mrs. Forger, I’m afraid I had to,” Vahlen said, shaking his head. “I feared cheaper, weaker materials might strain and break from the sheer amount of strength and hardened muscles you have. It rather ruins the point of ‘everyday clothing you can relax in’, if you have to constantly worry about ripping something if you so much as flex.”

“Oh,” Yor said, her ears and eyebrows rising in surprise. “I hadn’t even considered that.”

“Fret not, it’s my duty as a tailor to think of those problems for you, Mrs. Forger,” Vahlen hummed. “I was also afraid of insulting whoever tailored the dress you’re currently wearing. I couldn’t help but notice that though you’d worn it for 6 weeks in the wilds, being constantly assaulted by monsters and the elements, it looks like you’ve only had a rough night.

“Still, you must be tired of having only that black dress to wear. Feel free to change now and ask Ms. Nam for help if you need it,” Vahlen said, politely turning around and away from Yor or any reflective surfaces.

Yor nodded. “Stay here while I change, Anya,” she said as she gently put her down on the floor.

“Okay, Mama!” Anya said.

“So, need any help, Mrs. Forger?” Na-bi said as she walked up.

“No, no thank you, I remember how to get in and out of this dress,” Yor said as she started loosening some of the straps.

“Do you also happen to remember where you got it from or at least what region it was in, Mrs. Forger?” Na-bi asked.

“No, I don’t,” Yor replied, undoing a metal buckle. “Why do you ask?”

“Master Vahlen and I would both love to know your dress’s materials, region of origin, and ideally, who made it, too,” Na-bi said. “It’s not the first time we’ve ever had to make or design a lightweight, stylish dress that you can dance and fight in, but it’s such a different design from most of what we usually see.

“I’m especially interested in the straps around the choker and your shoulders,” Na-bi said. “It’s a bold choice to have the whole thing held up by just those.”

“Well, I think if the bottom were any tighter or more restrictive, I wouldn’t be able to move my legs or kick nearly as well as I could,” Yor said. “That’s very important for me.”

“True, but then all the tightness is concentrated around your neck, chest, and back. That's a surprising amount of pressure on…" Na-bi started before trailing off. "… Oh, I see why that was now..."

“Huh?” Yor said.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” Na-bi said. “Which is probably not that surprising in hindsight...” she muttered, looking down.

“Is there something wrong, Na-bi?” Yor asked as she stepped out of her dress.

“No, since your chest is getting ample support even in the heat of combat,” Na-bi said, shaking her head.

“If the undergarments I provided don’t provide ample support or comfort, I can change it to something that better suits your needs, Mrs. Forger,” Vahlen said, still turned away.

“No, I think this will work fine,” Yor said, pulling the bra against her chest before she reached behind her and tightened it. “I don’t think I’ll have to worry about my chest smacking me in the face as I’m walking down some stairs or trying to run.”

“Hey, is Anya going to have to worry about that, too, when Anya grows up?” Anya asked.

“We’ll have to wait and see, Ms. Anya,” Vahlen said. “Even if your birth mother was similarly well-endowed as your step-mother or the women on your father’s side also had generous measurements, inheritance of traits is a very complicated, murky business.

“I have worked with a significant amount of couples who are absolutely certain the child is theirs, but you’d be surprised at just how far from either of their parents they can resemble,” Vahlen said. “Take you, for example, as I can barely see any of your father in you but I’m still unshakably certain you’re father and daughter.”

“Mm,” Anya murmured, a bit nervous.

“Don’t fret about the future so much, Ms. Anya,” Vahlen said. “When that time comes, however you look when you grow up, come to me and I will find some way to make you beautiful, as I’m doing with your mother.”

“Thank you, Mr. Vahlen,” Anya said.

Then, things were silent for a while except for the shuffling of fabric as Yor put on the rest of the clothes.

“I’m finished dressing now!” Yor said as she smoothed her new pants a bit. “You can look now, Mr. Vahlen.”

“Wonderful!” Vahlen said, spinning around on his heel as usual. He gave Yor a quick once over, beamed in pride, then asked, “You look incredible, but how does it feel?”

“Great, too!” Yor said as she stepped around and twisted a bit, showing herself off. “Everything feels so light and airy and yet it almost fits me perfectly!”

“That was in great part thanks to your cooperation back at the boat yesterday,” Vahlen said, chuckling. “Taking measurements through a set of bars and my client in handcuffs was no easy task, yet managed well. Moving on, anything you wish to change about these? Complaints or improvements?”

“None,” Yor said, casually raising her arms and bending her legs, admiring how well she could move. “I think this is great as it is.”

“Perfect!” Vahlen said, clapping his hands.

“Mama looks so pretty!” Anya said before her stomach growled again. “And Anya’s really hungry now...”

“We should really get back to the restaurant with the others,” Yor said as she picked her up again.

“Speaking of that, may Ms. Nam and I join you for lunch?” Vahlen asked.

“Gazyl and Ms. Kass already are, so I don’t think Mr. Paladia or Mrs. Polly would mind, too,”

“Perfect,” Vahlen said. “You three all go on ahead of me, I’ll lock up here and catch up with you all on the street. Oh, and Mrs. Forger?”

“Yes?” Yor asked as she picked up Anya.

Vahlen grinned and said, “Please do tell me how the others react to your new outfit.”

Chapter Text

By the time Yor, Anya, and Na-bi came downstairs with Yor’s old clothes in a bag, Kass had joined Jack and Gazyl outside. The street had become quite noisy with so many folks now out to lunch or otherwise enjoying the start of the afternoon, so they didn’t notice them until after Na-bi opened the door and made the wind chimes rattle.

The three outside turned around. Jack blushed, Gazyl whistled, then after their reactions, Kass smiled.

“Hello again, everyone!” Yor said, waving with the arm that wasn’t carrying Anya and the bag. “How do I look?”

“Ah, pretty,” Jack said before he looked away and coughed. “Sorry… I don’t mean to make it seem like I’m lying, it’s just that you still look really good in everyday clothes, and I don’t think I was prepared for that.”

“Yeah...” Gazyl said, slowly eyeing Yor up and down before nodding to himself. “It’s a lot better than the original dress since you won’t catch as much attention or raise as many eyebrows, but I’d still be wary of boats, carts, and wagons passing by if I were you.”

“Umm, why would I need to be?” Yor asked, confused.

Gazyl blinked before he took a deep breath and then sighed. “Sometimes, I worry about what sort of life you’ve led if you don’t know that, Yor...” he muttered. “You know what, I'll explain after lunch if the walk to Mrs. Polly's place doesn't show you in the meanwhile."

“Okay,” Yor said, still confused but nodding.

“Oh, and I should mention me and Master Vahlen would like to join all for lunch, but he’ll be late since he needs to lock up the store first,” Na-bi said.

“Oh, sure, we'll be happy to have both of you over, too!" Jack said. "Since Mother was teaching Mr. Forger her recipes, we ought to have plenty to share and give away as leftovers later."

“Great, because I am getting very hungry just standing around her! Can we go now?” Gazyl said.

“Sure, sure,” Jack said, a little embarrassed.

As they began to walk back to the bridge leading to the town square, Yor noticed Nihls’ atelier across the street. “Should we go and invite Mr. Nihls, too?”

“Can we not?” Anya asked flatly.

“I wouldn’t bother, honestly, he’ll probably say no like he has the many other times we’ve tried,” Kass said. “Nihls isn’t one for joining outings and gatherings larger than a small handful of folks, even then it’d usually be with the Vishafells or someone else he knows intimately.”

“Also, I hear his condition makes eating in public kind of difficult and awkward for him and the other diners, too,” Gazyl said.

“His condition?” Yor asked.

“Yeah, it’s the consequences of something that happened to him a long time ago, before he ended up setting shop here in Reinesburg,” Gazyl said as they neared the bridge. “No one outside of him and Old Man Vel know the full details, but they say no one else needs to know, I certainly don’t feel curious about it.”

Yor nodded.

They began to cross the bridge and happened to pass by some town guards who’d brought Yor into the garrison yesterday.

“Oh, afternoon, Mrs. Forger!” one of them said, tipping their hat. “That’s a lovely new outfit you’ve got there.”

“Thank you!” Yor replied. “Mr. Vahlen made it for me, I’m really grateful to him.”

“I’m sure your husband will be plenty grateful, too, once he sees it,” another said playfully.

“Oh, um, yes, I think he will be!” Yor said, uneasy but smiling and nodding politely.

Gazyl slowed for a moment to look at her before he sighed again. “You really didn’t get what they were implying just now, were you?”

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?” Yor asked, confused. “It’s not anything bad, is it?”

“No, and probably not in the way you’re thinking. I’ll explain later when the kid isn’t around and we’re out of public,” Gazyl said before he faced forward once more, towards the busy streets and crowds ahead of them.

“To something I can discuss right now since we're trying to piece together your past, and all: do you remember what kind of culture your old home had?" Gazyl asked. "I know your memory's full of holes but there have to be enough parts that are still perfectly intact since you know how to behave in public in a place like Port Illyria.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and your home might not be as far off as we fear it could be, since what you learned living there is similar enough here to prevent culture shock.”

“Umm, does it really matter that much?” Yor asked. “I don’t think behaving in public and learning how to live in a town is all that complicated.”

“It can be if you're from a place that's very different from Lumania and Port Illyria," Kass said. "Life is very different here in Port Illyria than it was for me back on the Isles of Vulkanon. Fewer mountain goats all around, for one thing," she said chuckling to herself.

More seriously, she continued, "It wasn't just the trader's tongue I had to learn to live and do business. I had to relearn how to get food and feed myself, like what types would normally be served here, where could I get them and for how much, how they were supposed to be eaten with what utensils, if any, and when they were usually served.

“For example, when I started craving gyros a few months after I first arrived, I had to spend days finding a specific stall in Port Illyria that sells it and figure out what times they would even be there hawking their goods. And even after all that, the gyros here taste far and away from the ones I remember from my home since almost all of their ingredients would be sourced from farms in Lulurun Valley. The climate is close, yes, but the soil, the water, and the seeds are entirely different.

“Not to mention the whole ‘physically blind’ thing did me no favors,” Kass sniffed.

Yor nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, I can see how it would be hard now. It was really tough when Gazyl was basically my only reliable source of food and wilderness know-how.”

“And the food isn't the only problem for new immigrants, it can also be trying to make a living with skills that now aren't as valuable or worse, useless," Na-bi added. "I already knew how to sew regular clothes and maintain leather and cloth armors from my military service. But, most of the patterns I had to deal with here were completely different from anything I'd made or even seen before in my life.

"Stitches could end up in the wrong places or I'd have no clue which parts were supposed to attach where and how without a pattern for reference. I even struggled with materials I'm intimately familiar with such as aquatic monster hides because the treatments and procedures here in Port Illyria are completely different from what was used in Eun-ji.

“My first few months under Master Vahlen was less him teaching me and more helping me unlearn everything from my past that would only cause me grief now.”

“That sounds really tough,” Yor said. “Are you still struggling?”

“Thank you for your sympathy, but don’t worry, I’m doing fine now!” Na-bi said, beaming with pride. “Master Vahlen still does the bulk of the work, but if a project requires something small such as ribbon, lace, or a holster for a weapon, that’s probably my handiwork! But if it’s for our top clients, Master Vahlen usually does everything by himself.

“Oh! And speaking of our top clients, there's some of them over there, wearing some of his work," Na-bi said, glancing at a higher-end cafe in the town square.

One of its outdoor tables was full of well-mannered older women, wearing clothes with elaborate patterns like vines and blooming flowers plus a handful of subtle but expensive-looking jewelry, usually made of gold and silver with small, finely cut and shaped jewels set into them. Some of their clothes may have been enchanted, faintly glowing and sparkling even under the shade of a parasol.

“All those old ladies look so pretty!” Anya said.

“They do,” Yor said, nodding.

One of the old ladies happened to notice their comments, turned to look, noticed Na-bi, then smiled and waved. “Oh, hello there, Young Na-bi!” she said. “Ah, and Mrs. Forger, I see you’ve gotten a fabulous new set of clothes, too.”

“You look absolutely stunning in them, darling. I’m rather jealous,” another said, chuckling.

“Thank you!” Yor said. “Mr. Vahlen made them, maybe you could ask him to make something like them for you, too?”

“Ah, that’s sweet of you, darling, but I don’t think even Vahlen can help me pull that look off!” the second old lady said. “Perhaps if I was a few decades younger and a few kilos lighter.”

“Don’t forget the adorable ears and tail, dear,” a third chimed in.

They all had a round of good-natured chuckles before they said their goodbyes then returned to their lunch or resumed walking.

“To get back on topic,” Gazyl said, “Yor, anything you remember from your home country? Foods they served? Styles of clothes you'd usually see? Differences in daily life, such as what's considered polite or how you're supposed to talk to people?"

As if on cue, up on some nearby scaffolding, a man whistled and yelled, “Hey, Lady, nice outfit! You’re filling out that sweater something fierce, awoo!”

Yor blinked, uneasy, before she asked, “Um, was that supposed to be a compliment?”

Before anyone could answer:

Smack!

The man beside the cat caller slapped him in the back of the head. “Cut the crap, dumbass, she’s married!”

“Ow!” the first man said as he rubbed the back of his head. “Since when?”

“Since last night! They had the ceremony here in the town square, everyone in town was there!”

“Oh. Right. Shit,” the first man muttered before he turned back to Yor and yelled, “Sorry about that, Lady!”

“It’s alright!” Yor said.

Gazyl groaned and muttered, “Case in point, that would be considered both rude and at least a formal complaint to whoever they work for… so, anything?”

“Mmm, well, I do remember a stew my mother used to make,” Yor said, “but I don’t think it’s that much different from any of the stews you’ve made for me. They were just made out of edible plants and whatever prey happened to be reliably available. I think I must have been too young to remember the specific ingredients.”

“Okay, that route seems to be a bust, again," Gazyl said. "How about something I'm sure you must remember a lot of? Hunting monsters. You did remember you paid for you and your brother's living expenses by doing kill contracts almost exclusively."

Yor nodded. “Yes, I did. And I think I’m beginning to remember they were also troublesome Named monsters, like Ullgar.

“It’s fuzzy, but when I think back really hard, I can remember my boss or maybe my clients telling me details about my assigned targets alongside their names and locations, like how much damage they had done or could continue to do if kept alive, and how much better the world would be off if they were dead."

“So that means you may not have been just an independent hunter like Gazyl, you might have been a Named Seeker,” Jack said.

“Yeah, that would explain how she managed to survive against Ullgar for so long till we could kill him off for good,” Gazyl said, nodding. “You don’t learn how to keep calm in the face of a Named monster just through training exercises, much more survive several attacks.”

“Hey Gazyl, Mr. Jack, what’s a Named Seeker?” Anya asked.

“Ah, they're a specific kind of monster-hunter who almost exclusively takes on contracts involving Named monsters," Jack replied. "Their work could be confirming a Named exists based on rumors, investigating what they've been up to see out if some folks living or traveling near their territory might be in danger, or just trying to kill them for whatever reason, like security or research.”

“And in my experience, they can also be a demanding bunch who are nightmares to work with on the field,” Gazyl said, shaking his head.

“They're excellent clients, however!" Kass said, chuckling. "Just one of them can pay for a few or several months' worth of bills, for a fraction of the time and work I'd usually have to put in to earn that much. Whether it's taking care of their prized weapons or forging an anti-Named weapon for their latest target, there is rarely an estimate too high for Seekers.”

“They’re also part of our VIP clientele,” Na-bi added. “Some of them even outspend the nobles and rich merchants on that list.”

“Yeah, yeah, they like to throw all that bounty money around," Gazyl muttered. "So, did any of that talk about Seekers happen to click with you?"

“Umm, just a name? Or maybe just some detail of them, I think,” Yor said. ‘Something about a ‘rose’ and a ‘garden.’”

“… Which could be anything from a logo, a name, or a rose garden at their headquarters, meaning this hint is another dead-end,” Gazyl said before he sighed and shook his head. “Man, I haven’t seen anyone who’s had their past forcefully erased this thoroughly, it’s honestly kind of terrifying.”

“Right?” Jack said. “I thought this only happened in silly comics like Spy Wars.”

“Mm, it does worry me, too," Yor said, nodding. "But, I'm starting to think that maybe I should just be okay with not remembering my past."

“Oh?” Kass said. “Is the prospect of investigating your missing memories too daunting? I can understand not trying to scale an insurmountable mountain of mystery, but we haven’t taken nearly enough attempts to say it truly is impossible to climb.”

“You might regret severing yourself from your past too early, too,” Na-bi said. “I know I did when I decided to leave my family, my old friends, and everything I knew in Eun-ji for Lumania. If it wasn’t for me meeting Master Vahlen and the rest of the Illuminian community here in the city, I don’t know where I’d have ended up, but it probably wouldn’t be somewhere good.”

“And I get what you’re both saying,” Yor said as they crossed one last bridge, into the Paladia’s neighborhood. “But, the thing is, even if I climb that mountain, I’m starting to feel there might not be anything waiting for me there at the top. Or is it supposed to be when I climb back down the other side? Ah, I’m getting confused!”

“How about just say we manage to find a strong lead about your home country and your past, and there's a way for you to get there from here in Port Illyria?" Gazyl said.

Everyone agreed.

Then, Yor continued, “If I do manage to find a way back, will there even be anyone waiting to welcome me back or anything worth coming back to? Maybe I’ll meet someone who can help me get my memories back, and figure out who I was then. Or maybe I'll just know for sure that there's nothing left for me there.

“My little brother is dead. Our parents have been dead since we were young. And I’m certain we have no family outside of them or at least, ones that cared to check on us after they died.

“I know it sounds pessimistic and like I’m quitting right away,” Yor said, looking down. “But I think what may be more important here than investigating my past, is why I'm trying to figure it out, and then if I even want to figure it out.

“Because, if I’m supposed to do it for the sake of my family…” Yor raised her head and smiled. “Well, I have a new, living one here in Reinesburg. I want to be here for them and I don’t think I can do that if I dedicate so much of my time and energy trying to find hints to a past that seems all but gone now.

"Especially if forces me to leave Reinesburg and my family behind for days, maybe even weeks or months.”

“Yeah, if Mama is going on an adventure, Anya wants to go too!” Anya said. “Anya doesn’t want to be alone again and Anya doesn’t want Mama to be alone again, either.”

Yor smiled, blushing. “Thank you, Anya.”

“Aww, how sweet!” Na-bi cooed.

“Agh, too sweet,” Gazyl gagged. “Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin your moment, but can we get lunch first?”

Yor chuckled. “Sure, Gazyl.”

They reached the Paladia's restaurant, Jack pushed open half of the doors and held it open for the others. "We're back, Mother!" he yelled. "And we've brought guests over for lunch!"

“Oh, how wonderful, Jack!” Mrs. Polly cried from the kitchen.

“Hey, Mrs. Polly!” Gazyl cried, waving and smiling.

“Good day, Mrs. Polly," Kass said, nodding once.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Polly!” Na-bi said, bowing briefly. “Master Vahlen will also be joining us shortly, so you know!”

“Come in, come in, everyone! I'm so glad you're all here or coming soon," Mrs. Polly said, the sounds of dishes, utensils, and glasses rattling and clinking all the while. "Mr. Forger has been learning all of my recipes while you were gone, and we're definitely not going to be able to eat all of these by ourselves! Speaking of which, you go show them to a table, would you, Mr. Forger?"

“Will do, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said before he came out of the kitchen in an apron. “Welcome and welcome back, everyone,” he said, casually scanning the group before he saw Yor.

He suddenly stopped, his eyes widened, before he quietly cleared his throat and composed himself.

“I see Mr. Vahlen has gotten you those everyday clothes he promised, Yor,” Loid said as he resumed walking.

“He did!” Yor said. “Do I look good in them?” she asked, a bit nervous.

“You look wonderful, Yor," Loid said. "The fit complements your figure well, the red of the sweater makes your eyes that much more striking, and I'm impressed with how Mr. Vahlen copied the daring cut of your original dress, it enhances your beauty so much."

“O-Oh, thank you very much, Loid,” Yor stammered, blushing, smiling, then looking away.

“Don’t get too focused on your wife, now, Mr. Forger!” Mrs. Paladia said. “We’ve still got food to serve and we can’t have you drooling all over it.”

“Ahem, understood,” Loid said before he smartened up and brought it to one of the larger tables. “Please come take a seat here, everyone.”

As everyone came over, Loid looked at his family and then asked, "So, I take it that you three did more than just stop by the General Store?”

“Yeah!” Anya cried happily. “Mr. Jack bought Anya a cool spy comic, and then Mama got to use Mr. Jojo’s old spear at Ms. Kass’s store, and then Anya--” her stomach grumbled and she suddenly stopped, grimacing.

Loid chuckled. "Perhaps we can talk about that over lunch than before it, Anya?" he said.

“Mm,” Anya said. “Oh, and Anya learned a lot about magic, too, Papa! Anya didn’t know magic could do so many exciting things!”

“I didn't either!" Yor said. "There so many things you could do with magic outside of fighting, medicine, or powering things, I couldn't have imagined any of them."

“I'd love to hear all about it, you two," Loid said, smiling.

"Food's coming in!" Mrs. Polly said as she started wheeling a large cart overflowing with food. "Make sure to try the dishes Mr. Forger made! He could impress me, but what matters more is that he impresses you all!"

"And I'd love to hear about what you think of my cooking, too," Loid said, grinning confidently now.

Chapter Text

Partway through lunch, Anya finished recounting her exciting time running errands with Yor and Jack. Then, the conversation moved to general talk about magic and its applications, especially the spells Anya could eventually learn or use with the help of another mage.

Perhaps unsurprisingly when the table had a weapons dealer, four hunters or soldiers past and present, and a former spy who was no stranger to creative applications of force and violence, it all geared mostly towards combat spells and tactics.

“… Once they’re dazed and confused, you can launch them into the air with a wind vortex, as I did with Ullgar, or a water geyser, like your Papa can make,” Gazyl said as he held the flat of a chicken wing between his hands.

“You could also use a gravity snare if you have an Earth mage of sufficient power like myself," Kass added as she gently pawed around for her glass.

“Oh, I’ve crafted some of those for myself and the rest of my company back during my military service!” Na-bi said as she ate a pasta dish full of vegetables. “They’re great setting up ambushes in areas with lots of cover and poor lines of sight for sharpshooters and long-range spellcasters. Once the trap is sprung, the monsters will usually instinctively flee to cover, activate the snares, and then get launched up into the open. They’re usually so disoriented from everything that they’ll leave themselves completely open, perfect for kill shots.”

“Those gravity snares sound incredibly useful!” Yor said as she tore a piece of bread off a loaf.

“They are," Gazyl said as he got the meat between the small bones. "Since they also make their targets a lot lighter, you can hit them even harder while they're floating, Yor. They'll probably go flying off from a little love tap, any more and you'll send them off like a rocket."

Yor nodded. “Like a rocket, huh? That’d be really useful if I end up needing to fight a heavy opponent like Ullgar again.”

“Yes, it ought to be especially effective if there’s a deep cliff nearby or something you can hit the target into that will bring them to a hard, sudden stop,” Kass added.

“This all so exciting!” Anya said, so fascinated she forgot her plate of food. “But what’s a ‘grabity snare’?”

Kass pulled her glass from her lips and said, “Gra vi ty snare, though you’re not that far off, little one. Like you must have guessed, it’s a trap to make enemies helpless and launch them out of hiding using the power of gravity.”

“If you wanted to get technical, the gravity snare is more an anti -gravity snare, but I suppose the name just stuck," Na-bi said, shrugging. "Such is the way with tools sometimes, I suppose."

Anya nodded. “So what else can grabity do?”

“A lot of things,” Loid said. “It’s the power that pulls you back down to earth when you jump, for one thing. Without it, we’ll all just go floating off into the sky the moment sends you fast enough off your feet and upward.”

Anya frowned. “That sounds scary. Anya doesn’t want to go floating away into the sky!”

“Speaking of floating, it can also make flying by or even being near floating sky islands incredibly dangerous,” Kass said. “If you’re not paying attention, ‘up’ and ‘down’ can suddenly change on a dime, or you might suddenly feel much heavier or lighter than before, either of which will easily throw you off your balance, throw off your senses and your instruments as well, more often than not causing a crash.”

“Ooh,” Anya said, nodding in understanding. “Grabity sounds really powerful.”

“Oh, it most certainly is,” Gazyl said as he grabbed another chicken wing. “Unfortunately, since you’re an Air magia, you’re probably going to be fighting against gravity than harnessing use it to your advantage. It takes a huge amount of energy just to get off the ground to hover, much more fly for more than a minute.”

“You wouldn’t see that with Jojo!” Mrs. Polly said, laughing. “Admittedly, the man never seemed to run out of energy and a strong breeze could already send him airborne, so I guess flying was just always in his nature.”

“Can Anya fly someday, too?” Anya asked, growing interested.

“Yes, you could, but only if you make sure to finish your food so your body can grow up to store the energy it needs, Anya,” Loid said, pointing at her plate.

“Huh?” Anya asked before she looked at it like she’d just remembered it was there. “Oh, sorry,” she muttered before she started eating again.

“That’s a good girl,” Loid said, smiling.

“Yeah, your Papa and I both worked hard on getting this ready, we want you to enjoy it while it's at its best and not when it’s cold,” Mrs. Polly added.

“Speaking of you two working on this together, Mother,” Jack interrupted, “I can’t even tell which one of these dishes he made or helped make, in the good sense. They’re both as great as I expect your cooking to be and I’m sure the customers will love Mr. Forger’s food, too.”

“Thank you, Mr. Paladia, I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Loid said, smiling.

“Oh, don’t be too humble, Mr. Forger, you can brag a bit about your cooking skills,” Mrs. Polly said. “Though, I suppose my recipes didn’t really give you much in the way to really flex your skills, huh?”

“I don't particularly mind," Loid said, shaking his head. "I figured the appeal of the restaurant was the familiarity of the taste of your cooking and the cozy, laid-back atmosphere. I didn't want to disrupt that by changing up the taste to the point where the customers might be surprised it is so different, even if it still tastes good."

“So out of curiosity, Mr. Forger, what can you do, if you weren't trying to mimic Mrs. Polly's cooking?" Na-bi asked. "Even if you don't have fancy magical tools or ingredients as an expensive restaurant does, you're still extremely skilled with your hands and your magic."

Loid looked down for a moment to think before he said, “Assuming Mrs. Paladia will let me, milk ice cream sweetened with sugar, honey, or topped with fresh fruit bits or peanuts ought to be perfectly doable for dessert.”

Anya lit up. “Peanuts!” she cried. “Anya wants peanuts on ice cream!”

“Hah,” Gazyl went, amused. “No guesses that would be your favorite topping. Did you eat a lot of them before moving here, kid?”

“Peanuts?” Anya asked, somewhat confused.

“No, ice cream,” Gazyl said.

“Ooh!” Anya said before she shook her head. “Anya never had ice cream before but Anya thinks it sounds delicious!”

Gazyl blinked then looked legitimately shocked. “Wait, kid, you’ve never had ice cream before?” he said, looking at her before turning to Loid.

“I don’t particularly feel like explaining,” Loid said, looking down with a dark expression.

Gazyl nodded. “Okay, that’s fair enough, but the problem still stands!” he said as he put down his chicken wing. “Mrs. Polly, you gotta let us in the kitchen later, Forger and I have to make the kid her first ever ice bowl of ice cream.”

Mrs. Polly laughed. “Oh, sure, you two can go ahead once we’re finished with lunch,” she said. “I haven’t had homemade ice cream in too long, especially since Diana had to move to Port Illyria full-time for her job. With how much work Jack and I have to split between ourselves, we couldn’t spare the time to try and whip it up, especially since neither of us has magic.”

“I’ll make sure to make plenty, then,” Loid said, smiling.

“Don’t forget about a serving for Master Vahlen!” Na-bi said.

“I won’t, Na-bi,” Loid replied.

“Speaking of whom, where is he?” Mrs. Polly asked, looking around. “It’s not like him to be so late like this without a good reason.”

“And a good reason I have brought!”

Everyone turned to the door, and there was Vahlen, grinning and almost literally glowing with pride as he gracefully strode into the restaurant. “My apologies for being so late after inviting myself to lunch, Mrs. Polly. But, I kept getting stopped by passersby and customers who were curious about Mrs. Forger’s new clothes and how they might be able to look just as eye-catching themselves,” he said, chuckling.

Mrs. Polly playfully rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re forgiven. Now, go sit down, get some food first, and then brag all you want, Vahlen.”

“Of course, Mrs. Polly,” Vahlen said, smiling and bowing slightly. “As always, your hospitality is deeply appreciated.”

As Vahlen approached, everyone else at the table greeted him. Then, Yor asked, “Would you like to hear about how everyone reacted when they saw my outfit for the first time, Mr. Vahlen?”

“Later, please, Mrs. Forger,” Vahlen said as he sat down beside Na-bi. “I’d like to have my hands free to write to make the best use of that information. Now then, what did I miss while I was making my way here?” he asked as he started serving himself some food.

“Papa and Gazyl were talking about making ice cream, with peanuts!” Anya said. “Anya’s never had ice cream before, so Anya’s really excited.”

“Really now?” Vahlen said. “I suppose I should pitch in to help, to make sure your first bowl is one to remember.”

“Will you be helping prepare the toppings and roast the peanuts, Mr. Vahlen?” Loid asked.

“Yes, I will be,” Vahlen said. “I’d offer to make salted caramel but I don’t believe Mrs. Polly will tolerate me using her pots for something as potentially dangerous as molten sugar,” he said as he glanced at her.

Mrs. Polly silently nodded with a serious expression that said he had guessed correctly.

“Now then, to lunch!” Vahlen said happily as he forked a bit of chicken and roast vegetables then ate it. He chewed and smiled, nodding to himself—before he suddenly slowed and looked like he was deep in thought.

“Is something the matter, Mr. Vahlen?” Loid asked.

“Mr. Vahlen could tell Mrs. Polly wasn’t the one that cooked the roast chicken, Papa,” Anya said.

Vahlen smiled. After he’d swallowed his mouthful, he said, “Keen observation, Young Miss Anya, and a correct one at that. It looks like you’ve already got an eye for detail at your young age, that’s very impressive.”

Anya giggled and beamed with pride.

“I’m also impressed you managed to detect that difference to begin with, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said. “I tried my best to replicate Mrs. Polly’s cooking style, even her own son couldn’t tell.”

“Oh, it’s nothing special on my part, just blame your unconsciously leeching your magic into the food, Mr. Forger,” Vahlen said. “By the simple process of elimination, it could only ever have been your work."

Loid nodded. He made a note to learn more about this later because if he was ever forced back to spy work again, this could be even more incriminating than leaving fingerprints.

“Umm, sorry, is that leeching magic into the food a bad thing?” Yor asked. “I’m trying to learn more about magia right now.”

“Haha, not at all,” Vahlen said as he resumed eating. "It's at such a low level that it's utterly harmless. If I wasn't so used to enchanted cooking, I probably wouldn’t have detected there was a difference—that is, literal magic in the food than Mrs. Polly’s metaphorical magic.”

Loid looked up, interested. “Would you happen to consider yourself knowledgeable on enchanted cooking, Mr. Vahlen?”

“Perhaps just a very well-read amateur hobbyist,” Vahlen said, idly swirling his fork in the air.

“Except when it comes to tea!” Na-bi chirped.

Vahlen laughed and said, “Yes, except when it comes to tea, Ms. Nam. Otherwise, I’m aware of but can’t even begin to use a majority of the techniques such as powderizing liquids, spherification, and flash freezing, even if I did have the right element and equipment to do so.

“If you need an exceptionally powerful cooking fire or intense, constant heat, however, I’ll be happy to oblige,” Vahlen said with a smug smile.

Loid smiled, too. “I can use that.”

“Hate to rain on your little parade there, gentlemen, but I’d prefer it if you two do any magical experiments you’re planning outside my kitchen, especially if it involves fire,” Mrs. Polly said. “I just have regular old cooking equipment and utensils here, plus the house isn’t rated for magical accidents of that sort.”

“Of course, Mrs. Polly, as you wish,” Loid said, nodding at her. “I still have my mundane recipes, after all.”

“What would they include, Mr. Forger?” Vahlen asked, curious. “I hear nobles on a border such as marquises tend to have all kinds of strange and interesting foods on their tables from all their contact and trade with foreigners, similar to how it is with Port Illyria’s food culture.”

“Well, since we’re near Port Illyria, I suppose it can’t hurt to talk about what I know of seafood...” Loid began.

With plenty of obfuscation about exact names or places, Loid ended up talking about what he knew of sushi, sashimi, and shellfish. Thankfully, his being a Water magia gave him easily believable when he mentioned having frequently worked with freshly caught and frozen seafood before intentionally serving it raw without anyone getting sick or killed from spoilage or parasites.

The highlight was him talking about blowfish sashimi, which everyone mistook as a type of “monster meal” and Loid didn't bother to correct it.

“… The VIP wanted to demonstrate just how much money he had to burn and how little he cared about spending it, so he scooped up so many of those fillets in one motion, shoved them into his mouth, and chewed them up all at once as if they were cheap fish fillets you'd get off a cart on the street, not a high-end restaurant for the elite," Loid said, an exasperated look on his face. "I objected to the lack of appreciation for fine cuisine, cheapening the staff's hard work, and his table manners, but as one of the servants, I was supposed to stand quietly until I was needed, so I did."

“Then what happened to him?" Yor asked, utterly fascinated. "Just one piece could have had enough poison to kill him with no cure, right?"

“Oh, he was fine, both the chef and I had ensured that everything was safe,” Loid said, smiling. “He ultimately left displeased and ranting about how overrated the experience turned out to be for him, but the bill was still paid in full and he left without causing any more trouble. He was banned from then on, though.”

Loid skipped over the fact that he lured the now drunk and sleepy VIP to a vehicle filled with WISE agents, it drove away with neither him nor his real security detail the wiser, whereupon the VIP was “secured” in a safe house and stopped being a threat to Westalia.

But as it was then, no one outside the operation needed to know that. And more importantly:

“Speaking of the end of a meal, it seems like everyone’s done with lunch,” Loid said. “Shall I get started on that ice cream I mentioned earlier?”

“Ice cream!” Anya cried, throwing her hands up.

“Hah, kid’s so excited for her very first bowl,” Gazyl said as he stood up. “Guess we should go now, Forger.”

“Indeed,” Loid said as he did the same.

“Take Anya, too, Papa!” Anya cried as she held up her arms. “Anya wants to watch the ice cream get made, too!”

“That won’t be a problem,” Loid said as he picked her up. “Mr. Vahlen, are you ready?” he asked as he turned to him.

“But of course,” Vahlen said, already up. “Lead the way.”

“Let’s get this ice cream made,” Gazyl said, a serious expression on his face.

“Guess I’ll clear the table so you’ve got a place to serve it all later,” Jack said as he started reaching for some empty plates.

“Actually, Mr. Paladia, I think I’d like to clean up for you and Mrs. Polly,” Yor said as she reached out and touched his arm, stopping him. “I’ve been wanting to help here in the restaurant yet I haven’t done anything yet. I want to show you what I can do, so you can be confident I can pitch in once we’ve got customers!”

Jack blinked. “Oh, um, sure, I don’t mind,” he said as he took his hand back. “Sorry, I guess I just need to start getting used to having someone else around who can help all over again…”

“I don’t mind, either!” Mrs. Polly said, smiling. “Good luck, you four, can’t wait to see how you do!”

“We’ll make you proud, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said as he marched off to the kitchen with Anya, Vahlen, and Gazyl in tow.

He perched Anya on the window to the dining room, giving her a great angle to see all three of them. Then, they got to work quickly, washing their hands, putting on aprons, taking inventory of the ingredients, and preparing what utensils they needed, before they split into two:

Loid and Gazyl armed with a large metal bowl and a whisk respectively, then Vahlen with a cast iron pan and a jar of chopped peanuts.

“You’re not going to use the stove, Mr. Vahlen?” Loid asked as Gazyl started dumping their ingredients in.

“What can I say? I’m something of a perfectionist,” Vahlen said as he lit a magical fire on his palm and held the pan over it with his other hand. “If I need to do something by hand to get it exactly right, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

“Besides,” Vahlen said as he glanced at the wide-eyed and delighted Anya, “this way, Young Miss Anya can get a good view of all three of us at work.”

Loid chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Then, with everything in place, they started making ice cream.

Gazyl’s mixing arm moved like a blur, furiously stirring the mixture and turning it into a swirling vortex. As Loid held the bowl steady with both hands, he saw the liquid always nearing but never going past the edge of the bowl, and only a handful of stray droplets flying out.

Then, when everything was as thoroughly mixed and aerated as they could get and Gazyl gave the order, Loid began the freezing. Frost spread out from his fingers and formed on the outside of the bowl, Gazyl started whipping again, and now Loid watched as the mixture solidified at a speed and efficiency ice cream manufacturers in his previous life could only have dreamed of.

Meanwhile, Vahlen finished preheating the pan and started tossing batches of chopped peanuts into it, tossing and swirling them around with expert control, filling the kitchen with the aroma of roasting nuts.

Anya watched, smiling and clapping as they worked, whipping her head side to side between them as she couldn’t focus on just one.

Their concentration was unbroken, their work uninterrupted… except for when Yor walked into the kitchen with all of the plates, trays, utensils, and glasses in her arms in a tall and surprisingly stable stack.

“Geeze, Yor!” Gazyl yelled as his stirring slowed from surprise. “You didn’t need to show off like this!”

“Wasn’t the cart still there?” Loid asked, flabbergasted and impressed both.

“It was, but I thought it would have been much faster and easier if I just did this,” Yor said. “Now, someone else can use the cart if they needed it and I can still help clear tables!”

“You don’t even look you’re straining in the slightest,” Vahlen said as he dumped the contents of his pan into a waiting bowl nearby.

“Oh, all of this barely weighs anything to me,” Yor said, chuckling. “The real work starts when I need to start washing it all!”

“Mama’s so strong and cool!” Anya cried.

Yor blushed. “Thank you, Anya. Now, I’ll get all of this out of your way, sorry to interrupt!”

Gazyl, Loid, and Vahlen all looked at each other, back at Yor as she set down the stack and started effortlessly unloading it into the sink, before they quietly returned to their ice cream making and topping preparing.

A few minutes later, the three of them were surrounding a small bowl.

Gazyl scooped a child-sized serving of milk soft serve into it, Loid delicately shaped it into a swirl with a spoon, then Vahlen carefully drizzled some peanut chunks onto it with an intense look in his eyes, as if the slightest bit too many pieces or uneven distribution would ruin all their hard work so far.

Then, they stopped to examine the finished product, nodded at each other, and as one, they brought it over to an eagerly waiting Anya.

Loid handed her the spoon, Anya scooped up some for herself, and eagerly brought it into her mouth.

Anya’s eyes widened like she was shocked.

The three of them tensed up with various expressions, from worry, to unease, to grimness.

Then, Anya pulled the spoon out of her mouth then squealed and squirmed with delight. “Delicious!” she cried before she resumed stuffing her face with ice cream.

As they relaxed and smiled, Vahlen said, “Mission accomplished, gentlemen. Excellent work.”

“Now, time for us to taste it, too!” Gazyl said as he held up three spoons and spread them out in a fan. “You know, for an adult’s perspective before we give it to the others and it’s too late to fix it here.”

“Just being professional,” Loid joked as he and Vahlen took one each.

Gazyl scooped out some to a bowl, Vahlen decorated it with the peanuts, before they dug in as a trio and prepared to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

… And then they finally suddenly noticed Yor was standing right next to them.

“FU--!” Gazyl cried, almost dropping his spoon. “Yor, when did you get here?!”

“Sorry, was I too quiet?” Yor asked sheepishly.

“I didn’t even hear you walk over!” Vahlen cried, flabbergasted.

Loid didn’t, either. Still, he hid his surprise and said, “I take it you want to taste some, too, Yor?”

“If I can,” Yor said, nodding. “I noticed Anya really enjoyed it and now I’m curious, too!”

“I suppose an early taste for you can’t hurt,” Loid said, shrugging before he began to leave to grab another spoon.

Vahlen touched his arm and stopped him, Gazyl gave him a loaded look without moving his head. Loid noticed then looked back to Yor.

She had her eyes closed and mouth open expectantly.

For all of a split second, Loid found himself so surprised, that he lost his composure. Then, a split second later, he regained it, and gently fed Yor with what was his spoonful.

“Mmm!” Yor went, smiling and her ears perking up in delight. “It really is delicious! Thank you, Loid.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it too, Yor,” Loid said, feeling some heat rise up to his cheeks before he unconsciously tamped it down.

Chapter Text

Even with the lack of something like vanilla flavor, be it a cheap chemical equivalent like vanillin or a natural spice, the milk soft serve with roasted peanuts was a hit. The bowls that Loid, Vahlen, and Gazyl brought out were empty in no time, and now Yor was skillfully and effortlessly stacking them up to take to the sink.

“Oh, man, that was great,” Na-bi said, humming and smiling. “Now I can’t help but wonder how well you guys could do if you tried to make shaved ice with red beans, instead.”

“The ice I can manage, but are the red beans difficult to acquire, Na-bi?” Loid asked, perking up. “I’m interested in experimenting.”

Na-bi giggled. “Oh, not at all! Eun-ji and all its closest neighbors like Hexie use red beans all the time, so you’ll find raw red beans, red bean paste, and red bean filling just about anywhere in Port Illyria where there are immigrants from that continent, like me! I’m not sure but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already cultivating a local variety in Lulurun Valley.

“It seems like you can grow just about anything there if you put in enough effort to make it work."

“Not everything, my relatives over there say, but every month they always seem to find someone trying to import some crop from far away and try to grow it here,” Jack said. “I hear they mostly end up in failure when it just doesn’t grow or grow well enough, though.”

“Aren’t those just plants?” Anya asked. “Put them in the ground, water them, and make sure they get lots of sunlight, and they’ll be fine, right?”

“I’m afraid plants aren’t that simple to grow, Young Miss Anya,” Vahlen said. “They’re as varied in their needs and wants as the population of Port Illyria. Some are hardy and adaptable and can survive just about anywhere, others are picky and fragile and will die if there’s even one factor that’s slightly off, and the rest could be any which way in the middle.”

“Is Port Illyria really like that?” Anya asked curiously.

“I suppose once you get to see the city, its people, and its commerce first hand, you’ll understand,” Vahlen said.

Anya looked like she wasn’t fully satisfied but she nodded nonetheless.

“Speaking of commerce,” Vahlen said as he stood up, “I suppose I should be asking Mrs. Forger about those first-time reactions to her new dress. Ms. Nam, please head back to the shop and man the counter for me, I have got a feeling I'll be constantly stopped and asked again on the way back, too.”

“Of course, Master Vahlen,” Na-bi said as she took a key from Vahlen and then stood up as well. "Thank you very much for having us over for lunch, Mrs. Polly! Your and Mr. Forger's cooking was delicious, and the dessert was incredible."

"We'd love to have you over for tea sometime," Vahlen said before the two of them bowed.

“Any time!” Mrs. Polly said, waving. “Kass, you going back to your shop, too?”

“I will as soon as I get Mrs. Forger’s knives, as the little one mentioned earlier,” Kass said as she stood up. Then, she turned to the kitchen and called, “Unless you’ve had a change of mind, Mrs. Forger?”

“No, I’d still be happy to let you look at them, Ms. Kass!” Yor called back. “Loid, could you get them for me? They should still be right next to your weapons.”

“All holstered in a black roll bag with a velvet red lining, yes!” Loid called out as got off his seat. “It’d be a good opportunity to put away her old dress in the closet, too.”

“Would you mind if I accompany you upstairs, Mr. Forger?” Kass said. “I was hoping to get a quick look at your weapons, too, in case your battle with Ullgar had damaged them or stressed the magical components to the point of concern. From what Gazyl told me, you performed the lion's share of spellcasting during that fight, and Vahlen mentioned you almost severely injured your arm from the strain.”

“Yes, I don’t mind. Also, I wouldn’t blame that entirely on the fight with Ullgar, but I suppose it didn’t help my health much,” Loid said, glancing at his dominant arm, which he was going to have to also call his “spellcasting arm” from now on.

“Anya, would you like to come with us?" Loid asked as he glanced at Anya.

“No, Papa, Anya wants to read Sir Bond and Spy Wars now!” Anya said. “Can Mr. Jack get it?”

Jack laughed. “Sure thing, Anya.”

“Oh, Sir Bond and Spy Wars,” Mrs. Polly said, looking nostalgic. “I haven’t heard about them ever since Diana had to move to Port Illyria full-time.”

“Mrs. Polly can join if Mrs. Polly wants!” Anya said.

“I’ll just leave it to you two, Anya,” Mrs. Polly said, waving her hand. “I always was more for the stories with normal, common folk dealing with normal problems than handsome, dangerous gentlemen at fancy parties and exotic locations.”

“Okay!” Anya said.

"Gazyl?" Mrs. Polly said, turning to their last guest. "You going to leave now and I'll probably see you around dinner, I suppose?”

“Yep! You know me too well, Mrs. Polly!” Gazyl said as he got up and stretched. “Seriously, though, I’ll be around town since Al will chew me out if I so much as go near the gates or at the major docks. Just holler if you need me and I’ll be there soon enough,” he said as he turned around and waved goodbye.

“We’ll see you later, Gazyl,” Loid said as he grabbed the bag with Yor’s clothes and then headed to the stairs with Kass. “Watch your step, Ms. Kasagandra.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Mr. Forger,” Kass said as she grabbed the railing and began to carefully make her way up the steps.

“I’m curious as to how you’re managing to navigate without a tool, Ms. Kasagandra,” Loid said as he went up slowly. “Are you using your magic?”

“Yes, I step on the ground and send out invisible pulses that reflect off obstacles, humanoids, and surfaces,” Kass replied. “It’s not a perfect solution but I prefer it over a cane or a seeing eye animal.”

“So is that why your footfalls are always so so heavy?” Loid asked.

Kass snorted softly and smiled. “No. I’m just a very large, very muscular woman who isn’t blessed with cat-like grace like your wife is,” she replied.

“I see,” Loid said before they silently walked up to the second floor.

As they neared the guest room—or rather, Loid and Yor’s room, for now—Loid asked, "Will you be waiting outside for me to bring you the weapons, or would you like to come inside?"

“I’d rather just wait here,” Kass said. “I don’t feel close enough to either of you to be intruding in such an intimate space.” She smiled mischievously and added, “Also, my magic can’t tell me about everything I might accidentally step on.”

Loid just ignored that last part and headed inside.

He put the bag with Yor’s old dress down at one corner then moved to the weapon locker. Perhaps unsurprisingly for a world filled with powerful, bloodthirsty monsters and citizens that armed themselves as a matter of course, a place to safely store your weapons and potions seemed as natural and necessary a piece of furniture as a bed, a chair, a table, or a dresser was.

His knife and gun rested on a pegboard with their magazines removed and stowed in a box below them, as Loid would have done for normal firearms in his previous life. His holster and potions were resting below them. And on the other half of the locker, Yor's knives were secured in a cloth roll, with bottles of lower lethality, non-Numbing Death poisons below them.

(Almost like those His and Hers displays my past targets were so obsessed with,) Loid thought as he took them out.

“Which one would you like to examine first?” Loid asked as he walked back to Kass.

“Yours, please,” Kass replied. “I’ll have much time to examine Mrs. Forger’s knives for every last piece of information they can give me.”

“Noted,” Loid nodded before he carefully handed his set over.

Kass handled Loid’s weapons with practiced, deft hands, manipulating them with the calmness and ease of a seasoned professional, even without the benefit of sight.

She ran them through mundane physical tests: gently feeling the spellslinger’s surfaces and the edge of the knife; checking the trigger mechanisms and magazines if they moved, locked, and released properly; then holding them both as intended, aiming well away from Loid and pointing at the floor.

Then, came much less visible tests as Kass loaded both, quietly held them up one at a time, and seemed to be using some sort of spell that only lit up her hands, not the weapons themselves.

"They're perfectly well," Kass said as she handed them back. "It seems your fight with Ullgar just helped them learn how to sing well to your tune than break their voices from strain.”

“Is there any sort of maintenance I should be doing from now on?” Loid asked.

“Nothing special aside from the usual: keep them clean, avoid excessive moisture and extreme temperature exposure, make sure the blade is sharp, everything moves and sounds as it was intended to, and if anything is glowing, you know exactly why and how to make it stop,” Kass replied. “I feel I don’t need to tell you to keep them out of the little one’s reach, but I suppose a redundant reminder before is better than useless regrets after.”

Loid nodded. “I will,” he said.

Anya was extremely curious about magic and weapons, Loid could tell. She might be satisfying herself with owning Mr. Chimera and observing others for now, but there was no telling what would happen if anyone accidentally exposed her to temptation.

He knew very well the power of “just happening” to stumble on something you wanted to have or touch, unguarded and unattended.

“Anyway,” Loid said, “here are Yor’s knives in their carry roll.”

“Thank you, I’ll have them back in her hands in 2-3 days, then the results of the analysis I’m planning will probably be a week or two later, a month at worst,” Kass said.

“I figured so, as well,” Loid said. “It doesn’t seem like the University’s scientists will be chomping at the bit to study and catalog some random citizen’s knives.”

Kass chuckled as she secured the roll in one of her large pockets. “Perhaps they will be. Your wife is quite the interesting individual, there’s a great chance that her weapons will have quite the interesting stories to tell as well if one knows how to ask for them.”

“Perhaps,” Loid said. “Shall I see you downstairs?”

“If you would be so kind,” Kass said, nodding. “I fear if I tripped and fell on the way down, the house would fare much worse off than I would.”

“That would be rather embarrassing after the owner just had you over for lunch, yes,” Loid said.

As he guided Kass down, Loid checked out the first floor. Jack and Anya were both reading that comic he bought her at the table, Mrs. Polly seemed to have gone into the kitchen with Yor, and Vahlen was heading to the entrance, beaming as he held a small notebook and pen in his hands.

“Ah, Mr. Forger!” Vahlen said, smiling as he noticed them. “I’m glad I caught you before I returned to my shop. I want to ask you something, an idea that popped up into my head while I was interviewing your wife earlier.”

Loid could undoubtedly smell a scheme brewing, though admittedly, Vahlen wasn’t bothering to hide it. Loid wasn’t too enthusiastic about it but he wasn’t too suspicious of it, either. As he walked up to Vahlen, he asked:

“What is it?”

“How would you feel about you and your wife modeling my and Ms. Nam’s work in the future?” Vahlen said.

“As in, walking the ramp at a fashion show?” Loid asked.

“No, as in, going about town and Port Illyria in them, such as when you go out on dates or trips as a family on your off-days,” Vahlen replied.

Loid paused for a moment to process it. “So you want us to parade around your clothes like we were nobility or rich merchants showing off our wealth?”

“Yes, though without trying to exactly mimic the aura or the manners,” Vahlen said. “Your wife and daughter have not had the ways of the nobility and high society deeply ingrained in them as you have. If they tried, they might just come off as nouveau rich or worse, commoners trying to pass themselves off as better than their status and background will afford them.

“Nothing quite ruins the beauty and allure of fine clothes than being worn by a person with ill motives or distasteful behavior, yes?” Vahlen sniffed.

Loid nodded. He’d seen it often, how wealth and especially ill-gotten wealth could not buy taste or good manners, but could certainly ruin the appeal of luxuries to outside observers, as it had been with that VIP at the sushi restaurant.

“And inversely,” Vahlen continued, smiling now, “fine clothes being worn by a well-liked, sociable, and popular couple and their daughter can only enhance their appeal, yes?” Vahlen said, smiling.

“We’ve been here all of three days, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said flatly.

“And yet, in that time, you’ve managed to safeguard our town from the terror of bandits running around with who-knows-how many vials of Numbing Death, killed one of the most infamous Named monsters that our town has been terrorized by, and made quite a lot of friends with that giant cake you convinced Shen to bake for the feast and how effortlessly, if somewhat unintentionally, you brought Lord Colwyn down a few pegs,” Vahlen countered.

“Mr. Forger, one can reasonably say that these three days are just one-off incidents. That this is the result of countless stars aligning in your favor. That though we’ll never forget your family’s helping kill Ullgar, we’re not going to be holding any more parties for you outside of birthdays, anniversaries, and milestone events, like if Young Miss Anya happens to become a tenured doctor or researcher at the University.

“But!” Vahlen said, raising a finger. “I would bet good money that you and your family are bound for greater things yet. Even if you're not glory seekers, I feel that when the situation calls for a hero, none of you will be able to resist the plea for help."

With an unamused look, Loid flatly replied, “I like to think of myself more as the kind of man that would be content if all his actions and deeds were never written into any history books, for he lived a peaceful life in unremarkable times.”

Vahlen seemed to get the intent quickly. “Perhaps I was mistaken, then, Mr. Forger. Still, my offer stands: you're going to need new clothes at some point, and I would be happy to provide you and your family with them, especially if we can both benefit beyond a simple exchange of your money for my services.”

"If the need ever arises, we'll inform you, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said. “Perhaps you should head back to your store now? Capable as Ms. Nam seems, it’d be rude to keep the poor young girl waiting too long for her master to return.”

“Quite,” Vahlen said before he bowed. “Farewell then, Mr. Forger.”

“Farewell, Mr. Vahlen,” Loid said. Then, he turned to Kass and said, “Ms. Kasagandra?”

“I’ll be leaving now as well,” Kass said, smiling as she began to walk out the doors. “Though, if you ever change your mind on Vahlen’s offer, please do think of me, as well. Even if it is only decorative, a finely-crafted weapon will greatly enhance the appeal of most clothes.

"Even if I'm blind, I'm sure Mrs. Forger would look lovely in a cocktail dress with a bejeweled combat fan in hand."

“Wouldn’t she?” Vahlen chirped before the two of them left.

Loid suppressed the urge to sigh.

(Perhaps if we’re in dire need of extra money,) he thought to himself. (Like for Anya’s education fund, a present for anniversaries or birthdays, or if someone falls seriously ill in this house and the health insurance isn’t up to snuff. Maybe even to help pay for that pet that Anya obviously wants.

(Vahlen isn’t likely to be hurting for money if he’s this popular and so fond of pro bono work with the donations to his religion and our clothes. Then again, he could also just be very good at balancing on the edge of bankruptcy or is being subsidized by his richer clients, whose favor could disappear at a moment’s notice.)

The thought of investigating Vahlen’s business records and clientele occurred to Loid.

Then, he quickly shunned the idea.

He’d research how good of a deal Vahlen could offer them and what it would entail when they actually needed the money. And though it was coming in installments and he’d already earmarked a good chunk of it for Yor’s bail, Ullgar’s bounty money was not likely to run out any time soon nor did he have a need for disposable income.

His mind made up, Loid turned back from the doors and examined his surroundings again.

Jack and Anya were reading Spy Wars in peace. Anya seemed to be rather interested in it, standing on top of her seat and the wooden booster so she could get a close look at the pages, ooh'ing, aah'ing and smiling.

Loid made a note to start looking for a reliable source of older issues and information about Spy Wars, like a public library. Shared interests or even just the appearance of it was an effective tool for getting close to his targets, and Loid figured it would also be an effective way to get closer to Anya.

Though he had been thrust into fatherhood by extraordinary circumstances beyond his wildest dreams, Loid was certain that he did not want nor would never be even a shadow of what his father was to him.

Then, he looked for Yor and Mrs. Polly and found them both sitting down at a different table with cups of tea and a tea set nearby. They were talking, Mrs. Polly looking proud and Yor in rapt attention.

Then, Yor quickly noticed Loid, smiled, then beckoned him over.

Loid did. “Yes, Yor?” he asked as he got near them.

“You’re not busy anymore, are you, Loid?” Yor asked. “I was asking Mrs. Polly for some help about how she raised her daughter, maybe it’d be better if you join in, too!”

“I think so, as well,” Loid said. “Mrs. Paladia, may I take a seat?”

“Have a cup while you’re at it, Mr. Forger!” Mrs. Polly said as she took an empty cup from the tray.

“So, what were you two talking about?” Loid asked as he settled in.

“Oh, with how much you all already talked about magic and how it's used, I didn't see much point in talking about something different," Mrs. Polly said, chuckling as she poured out the tea. "I was just telling her how Jojo and I managed Diana's magical outbursts and accidental discharges, especially when she was Anya's age.

“Even if she was feeling just fine and dandy and not at risk of her magic running away from her, kids are curious and can’t help but want to test their powers and see what they can do, you know? They don’t really understand how much damage they can cause before it happens, like how badly Anya managed to shock you.

“Good thing the Captain was there or your first visit to the Temple would have been a lot earlier, I think,” Mrs. Polly said.

“What happened then?” Yor asked, curious.

“Ah, it was when we first arrived here in Reinesburg, about two days ago...” Loid said.

Chapter Text

“… Diana must have been so happy when she managed to bend the spoon all by herself, but you wouldn’t have guessed that from how much she cried afterward when she realized she couldn’t bend it back the way it was before!” Mrs. Polly said.

"I was trying to comfort Diana by saying that it was just one normal spoon, one of the dozens we own and that we could just order a new one for spare change. Meanwhile, Jojo was trying to comfort her by saying how proud he was that Diana had already started to get the hang of magical metal forming before age 10 and how amazing she was for it.”

“Did either of those work?” Yor asked.

“No, I had to make her favorite: spinach ravioli," Mrs. Polly said, shaking her head. "She must have made herself hungry from both the spellcasting and the crying because she tore into those as soon as I put the bowl down and told her she could. By the time she ate everything down to the little bits of filling that fell out, she felt a whole lot better, but I suppose that's no surprise.

“My side of the family always says, ‘Nothing soothes like a stomach full of good food.’ and there have only been a handful of times it failed and a couple of situations where it won’t work,” Mrs. Polly said with a satisfied nod.

Yor nodded. “I guess I’m lucky Loid knows how to cook just as well as you, Mrs. Polly. I’d be worried if I had to cook something for Anya to calm her down. Then again, maybe I could just get her shelled peanuts...”

“Why does she love them so much?” Mrs. Polly asked, turning to Loid. “It feels like there’s gotta be a story there, somewhere.”

“Honestly, there isn’t,” Loid said, shrugging and looking a bit embarrassed. “She just took a liking to them the first time she tried them and now she’s enjoyed them ever since. Nothing more complicated than that.”

“Ah, well,” Mrs. Polly said, shrugging, “I suppose life is just like that sometimes.”

All three of them heard the sounds of little footsteps hurriedly running over to them. They turned and saw Anya running with her copy of Spy Wars held over her head like a precious treasure.

“Papa! Mama!” Anya cried.

“Did you hear about the peanuts and want some, Anya?” Loid asked as shifted in his seat to meet her.

“Yeah, peanuts!” Anya cried.

Loid scooped her up mid-stride and brought her to his lap.

Then, Anya continued, “But also, Anya wants Papa and Mama to read Spy Wars, too!”

“You liked it that much, did you, Anya?” Loid asked.

“Yeah, yeah!” Anya said, nodding. “Sir Bond’s cool like Papa is, even without the Pee-Eee-Sea!”

“Now I kind of want to read it, too,” Yor said.

“Mrs. Polly?” Loid asked, turning to her.

Mrs. Polly waved her hand as she got up. “I can tell you stories about raising my kids any other time. You go read that comic with Anya. Heck, I’ll even get you that bowl of peanuts she wants so you three can get right to it.”

“Yay! Thanks, Mrs. Polly!” Anya cried.

“No problem,” Mrs. Polly said as she walked to the kitchen. “If you need me later, I’ll be upstairs taking a nap before it’s time for the Thursday card game with the neighbors.”

“Mr. Paladia?” Loid asked as he turned to Jack. “Care to read it again?”

“Nah, I'll be off to the gym to get some exercise in," Jack said. "Now that I know you and your wife can take a whole load of the work off of Mother and I's shoulders, I want to start weightlifting again so I can at least try to keep up! One of these days, one or both of you might be out sick or need a day off, and I can't have the restaurant struggling again if it comes to that!"

“Don’t overwork yourself again, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said.

“I won’t, I won’t!” Jack said as he headed upstairs.

“Papa, Papa!” Anya cried.

Loid looked, she’d already laid out the comic open on its first page. “Alright, alright, Anya. We’ll get started now.”

He picked her up again and put them both in more comfortable positions then Loid asked, “Would you like me to read it out loud for you? That ought to help us keep track of where everyone is before we turn the page.”

“Yeah!” Anya said. “And Mama can voice the girl characters, too!”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure I can do them very well, Anya...” Yor said, embarrassed.

“There’s no need to be nervous, Yor,” Loid said. “It’s only just us here, not an audience. And for what it’s worth, I would like to hear your voice as we read, too.”

Yor blushed and whimpered, her ears turning down a bit before they rose back up again. “Well… okay! If you say so, I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you, Yor,” Loid said before he turned his attention to the first page.

It was a rather standard opener for a story about handsome gentlemen, exotic locations, and daring secret adventures like this…

“Port Eyrie.

“The City of Prosperity.

“The Glittering Crown Jewel of the Kingdom of Elmyra.

“One of the richest, most populous, and well-defended cities in the world, it is a thriving center for trade and business. Countless goods and visitors travel from all over for even the slightest chance of getting some of that prosperity for themselves, honestly or not.”

Gigantic ships moved around even larger harbors, massive magical cranes alongside armies of dockworkers seemingly working around the clock to load and unload everything as quickly as possible into waiting warehouses, wagons, and smaller boats on the canals.

Countless stalls and shops lined the busy streets, humanoids willingly packing themselves in like sardines to get where they needed to go, hands constantly moving as they picked out goods and luxuries, exchanged money, or pilfered both from unsuspecting victims.

High up above the city below, up in a massive stone fortress sitting atop a steep mountain range, a man in luxurious clothes sits on an equally expensive desk. Many fine jewels are on his fingers as he clutches a crystal goblet with yet more expensive decoration, a servant pours him rich wine from a crystal decanter. He grins as he looks out a window and over the city far below him, its citizens like little masses of dots, the grand buildings and streets below just colorful shapes and blocks, the ships and industrial machinery almost like children’s toys.

“In this city where nearly everything can be bought and sold for the right price if you ask the right merchant, we fear that its lord, Marquis Ulthur Ulfang, is about to auction off a powerful magical artifact: Kyra’s Eye. From what we know of Ulfang, he does not particularly care who will win it or the consequences, so long as he is paid his price.

“We have confirmed several of our enemies intend to acquire it, either by winning the auction Ulfang will hold during one of his largest annual parties or through less legitimate means.”

There was a picture of what looked like an elaborate, spherical magical gem set in a metal circle with runic carvings. The richly dressed man from earlier, Marquis Ulfang, loomed over it with a smile while distant, shadowy, menacing figures looked at him with gleaming eyes.

“Ulfang is not unaware of the risks of inviting the wolves, the weasels, and the snakes into his home, however. Security measures around Castle Eyrie have been heightened by several magnitudes more than usual, and as you must know already, the castle was a nearly impenetrable fortress, to begin with.

“Staff have been locally recruited or brought in and screened during the months leading up to this event. It will be nearly impossible to insert any more agents aside from the few we've already planted here long ago. The staff has been instructed to report anyone in a uniform who they do not know by name or was not part of the many rehearsals held up to this point, so infiltration and disguise will be difficult."

There were panels of servants being ruthlessly drilled and practicing serving guests or exacting ways to perform basic actions, like taking a drink from their tray onto a table.

One of them in particular was performing all her jobs with gusto and an unrelenting smile despite the implied streams of abuse from the instructors, performing flawlessly while other servants quit in disgust or broke down in tears.

When all of it was over, she quietly left the mock party and headed to a window in a deserted hall. She pulled out a piece of paper, enchanted it, then folded it like a bird. Then, it flew off from her hand, into Port Eyrie below.

“Trade and imports have received a historic temporary ban, by Port Eyrie’s standards. Almost everything that has been moving into the city in the 2 weeks leading up to the event has been purely for supplying the citizen’s needs and Lord Ulfang’s demands, and all deliveries are meticulously logged beside. Both for the closure of streets and the resulting sluggishness of local businesses, anyone out in the streets will easily stand out, making escaping into the crowds impossible.”

Merchants and ship captains complained to dock workers and guards as they were denied entrance. Ships loaded with cargo and people were either forced to wait a few miles away from port for inspection or simply redirected elsewhere. Arriving boxes and crates were meticulously inspected by highly suspicious customs officers before the workers even touched them.

“The castle’s regular security forces have been boosted, as well. Both clothed and undercover guards are expected to be roaming the venue and nearby halls, to ensure that Ulfang’s guests behave. Both the sky and the water around Castle Eyrie are heavily patrolled with armed guards prepared to kill intruders on sight. The one road winding up the mountain and to its gates is also to be under extremely tight watch.”

There were what looked to be surveillance sketches and photographs by undercover agents, detailing patrol routes, locations, and the escalation of the security measures.

There were panels focused on the sea-facing sides of Castle Eyrie, where the outer walls were smoothed, almost 90-degree surfaces that formed a straight line from the top of the ramparts to the sharp rocks and rough waves below.

Others were focused on the guards, heavily armed, heavily armored, and heavily disciplined. They gave off the air of being reasonable enough that they wouldn’t accost every last guest or staff member even slightly out of line. But, once they had a solid excuse to pull the trigger or swing their weapon, they would do so in a heartbeat.

Some of them focused on secret deliveries at night and reports of construction work and materials shipping in, so much evidence of work being done at Castle Eyrie yet the public-facing sections of the castle remained completely unchanged.

“Ulfang has made it nearly impossible for unwanted guests to infiltrate this event. He has clearly spent several fortunes to ensure that nothing will go wrong, in anticipation of the profits he will reap. And so, this is why we have also spent a fortune to secure you a legitimate invite.”

It was the night of the party now, Castle Eyrie glowing like a massive, glittering beacon, shining high over the rest of its city like it wanted to be a second sun. There was a stream of carriages winding their way up the mountain, being pulled by horses or other, more exotic animals and monsters like reptiles, birds, bears, wolves, and so on. Elaborately dressed guests from all over began to get off the vehicles and walk the carpet to the castle’s doors, to the delight and the interest of the crowds crowding outside with their cameras.

It seemed like every last significant face and name in the region and the world was participating, so when a relatively less fancy and elaborate carriage rolled up with two normal horses rolled up, no one was paying much attention to it.

Then, the handsome, stylishly dressed passenger stepped out, his suit perfectly tailored to his body and radiating some indescribable quality, little jewelry on his body but the four-color crystal pendant that was securely fastened over his chest.

He confidently strode up to the waiting doorman, pulled out his invitation from one of his pockets, and after a brief check for its authenticity, he was waved inside and his carriage dutifully drove away.

“We figuratively and monetarily cannot afford failure, Sir Bond. But, we have full trust that you will make this mission a success and justify all the resources poured into this operation.

“- Commander of the Shadow Guard.”

"Who was that?" one of the paparazzi asked as they watched the handsome gentleman disappear through the doors.

"I don't know. Probably some up-and-comer who bought his invitation or pulled a favor from someone else," another replied.

“Yeah, probably a nobody looking to rub elbows with somebodies. He looked great, though,” a third said.

The paparazzi all nodded among themselves before they quickly turned their attention back to those who’d already made names for themselves—or rather, for those that wanted their names and faces known to the world.

“Introducing, Sir Bond Mann from the Kingdom of Fiorina,” the usher said, but predictably, he did not cause much of a fuss, with only a small handful of guests and servants even noticing.

All the better, really, as Sir Bond was much more interested in examining them in turn, and ideally, unnoticed.

The party was as lavish, vast, and all-encompassing as it could get.

There were several large tables set out for guests to come together, sit down, and enjoy the sumptuous and generous displays of food and drink laid out on banquet tables, for eager diners or their servants to take from.

In that usual gruesome fashion from Loid's previous life, there were decapitated animal heads proudly displayed near the dishes, presumably, so everyone could tell what exactly they were eating and how expensive, difficult, and risky it would have been to acquire.

There was a small orchestra with singers playing on a balcony, magical speakers helping broadcast their music all over the venue, especially to those that were on the dance floor, separated from the rest of the party by rope fences and couches to rest on.

And as Sir Bond made his way to the second floor, there was no shortage of entertainment for the usual vices like gambling, smoking, some relatively child-friendly portrayal of prostitution with attractive individuals lavishing attention on guests, and, for this world specifically, blood sport.

The last Sir Bond stopped at because everyone’s eyes were firmly affixed on the fight between a chimera and some other monstrous creature. The location he chose also gave him a relatively good vantage point on both floors of the venue.

And so, effectively invisible, Sir Bond faked scratching near his ear and cast a spell on himself.

All the random, cluttering speech bubbles disappeared at once and all the details of the party blurred, except for a handful of points and persons of interest Sir Bond had spotted earlier.

There was a rowdy crowd of warbeasts and other more monstrous races with tusks, fangs, and bulging muscles, surrounding one of the buffet tables full of meat, eating straight off of the trays, and intimidating everyone who tried to stop them. They were clothed in feathers, leathers, and bones of previous hunts, accented by precious metals, gems, and intricate-looking weapons of medieval or tribal level, like clubs, swords, and spears, though they didn’t seem opposed to ranged weapons like crossbows or cannons.

(Crimson Mane Mercenaries,) Sir Bond thought.

There was a group of well-dressed, well-mannered humanoids on the dance floor, all dressed in form-fitting, subtle, almost generic suits and dresses in mostly dark colors like blues, purples, and blacks. They seemed to be pairing up among themselves or with the richer, more noteworthy targets like politicians or influential aristocrats, some of them almost disappearing into the crowds when they retired to the seating or moved back to the rest of the party, they had suddenly, mysteriously become so unremarkable.

(Black Blades,) Sir Bond thought.

And finally, there was a small group of fae on the second floor, Lumen or Umbran, who seemed to be quietly sitting around in a corner, while the burner in the center of their table quietly burned and smoked some mysterious material, they seemed both lost in a trance and unapproachable.

(The Immortal Hands,) Sir Bond thought.

There were countless other potential threats and persons of interest, of course. But there were only so many things he could assess in the time he had before the auction—and more importantly, one of them had sneaked up right beside him without him noticing.

“Sir Bond.”

The voice belonged to a beautiful warbeast woman. She was a jungle cat of some kind with rich, glossy dark fur and sharp facial features. She gave off the vibe of a friendly wild animal, familiar with you and no immediate threat, but dangerous and powerful nonetheless.

Sir Bond’s brief moment of panic did not even show on his face. Instead, he smiled and said, “Princess Pheyra. How surprising to see you here.”

Pheyra chuckled. “It is rather curious how we keep running into each other wherever we go. Are you still interested in the fight, Sir Bond? Your eyes and mind seemed to be elsewhere."

“No, I don’t suppose I am,” Sir Bond said, shaking his head. “How about we go somewhere quieter and more conducive to pleasant conversation, Your Highness?” he said, gesturing away from the arena and offering an arm at the same time.

Pheyra nodded. “As you wish, Sir Bond,” she said as she took it.

They made their way to a conveniently free spot on the railing where Sir Bond could continue observing the venue and Pheyra could elegantly perch herself. The new perspective showed Pheyra off in full, with her tribal dress and all its elaborate woven patterns, cut to expose so much of her lithe, athletic muscles and give her complete freedom of movement still.

A huntress’s clothes when she needed to knock socks off and knock the wearers out if needed, too, it seemed.

“I suppose you are here for pleasure yet again, Sir Bond?” Pheyra asked innocently.

“But of course, Princess,” Sir Bond said, smiling. “And you are here for business again, I take it?”

“Of course,” Pheyra said, sighing. “With the crown comes its weight.”

“I can think of no stronger, more elegant, and smarter woman to wear it, Your Highness,” Sir Bond said, smiling and leaning in.

Pheyra blushed and chuckled. “Oh, please, Sir Bond, stop. We’re not even remotely close to my family’s court, let alone my kingdom. You’ve no one to charm but I.”

“A worthy pursuit in itself, but as you wish, Your Highness,” Sir Bond said, visibly turning off the charm and turning more serious. “So, might I ask what takes you here to Port Eyrie, of all the other many places that would be happy to welcome you?”

“It’s a matter I can’t speak of, Sir Bond,” Pheyra said, looking out over the railing with a somber look. “Utmost secrecy is important, I’m afraid, just like you with whatever exploits you get up to as soon you leave my sights.”

“Fair enough,” Sir Bond said, shrugging.

At that moment, a butler approached them with glasses filled with a drink. “Refreshments, dear guests?” he asked. “This Herian Fruit Wine is from the harvest of 1693, a very fine year for the orchards and House Hroth as well.”

“Personally, I much prefer the harvest of ‘91, perilous of a year that was for House Hroth instead,” Sir Bond said, taking glasses for them both and giving the servant a brief, but loaded look.

The servant returned it in kind. “A very rare opinion, that, dear guest,” he said.

“And valuable all the same, for it is mine,” Sir Bond said as he offered the other glass to Pheyra. “Your Highness?”

“Thank you,” Pheyra said, smiling. “So how is it that you say it in your kingdom, ‘Cheers.’?”

“Cheers, Princess,” Sir Bond said, clinking glasses with her.

Then, as he took a drink, he “accidentally” spilled a great deal of it on his suit, staining the coat and the undershirt both.

“That was clumsy of you, Sir Bond,” Pheyra said, surprised.

“I suppose we all have our off nights,” Sir Bond said, smiling. “Please excuse me, I need to go get this cleaned off before it stains permanently.”

“Let me escort you to a private room, Sir,” the servant said, summoning a different staff member and unloading his tray on them.

“I’ll leave you to it then, Sir Bond,” Pheyra said, smiling. “Ancestors watch over you. And help you save that suit.”

“Thank you, Princess, and to your ancestors as well,” Sir Bond said, bowing before he turned away and the pair made a discrete exit down a hall.

Sir Bond was late for Ulfang’s opening remarks at the party, but he would not be too late to stop his plan.

Chapter Text

Sir Bond and the servant disappeared down a side hall, into a private room that had been prepared for the guests. Some of the guards seemed suspicious even with the large visible stains on Sir Bond’s clothes, but with a party as large as this and the security restrictions Ulfang had put in limiting their numbers, they decided they were not worth bothering with and let them slip past without a problem.

The servant locked the door behind them and after Sir Bond did a quick magical sweep for intruders or bugs, they quickly dropped the acts and got to business.

“What’s the situation?” Sir Bond asked as he effortlessly erased the stains with a wave of his hand and some sort of spell.

“Kyra’s Eye is under heavy security until the auction is about to begin, sometime past midnight,” the butler replied. “However, that has not stopped several people already trying to get it and the other valuables to be auctioned off tonight.”

“Enemies of ours?” Sir Bond asked.

“Inside job,” the butler replied, shaking his head. He walked over to a shelf full of expensive art pieces and continued, “Lord Ulfang paid extremely well for all the work we had to do to get his party and auction ready. But, for a lot of them, it wasn’t enough, either because they still want to be paid more or they want some unofficial compensation for all the trouble Ulfang and his executives have put them all through.”

The butler pulled one of the statuettes, it opened a secret hole in the wall, large enough for an adult human to crawl into.

“I’d wager a good deal of them have already activated the traps that are meant to deter both them and anyone else that tries to come after them,” the butler said as he gestured to the tunnel. “Good luck, Sir Bond, I hope you beat the odds against the house.”

“I don’t plan to leave until I do just that,” Sir Bond said as he pulled out a balaclava from inside his coat and put it on, then shifted the PEC beneath his shirt and out of sight.

There was a chance someone would recognize him and out him as Sir Bond, of course—but there was a guarantee that waiting too long would fail this entire operation, and there just wasn’t enough to build a full disguise.

Down, down, deep into Castle Eyrie Sir Bond went, traveling through a series of escape tunnels and servant’s secret paths. The paths twisted, split, and stretched on and on at times, all intending to confuse anyone who did not know exactly where they were going and how to get there. But, with the intelligence Sir Bond had received, his memory, and the power of the PEC to check if there had been any last-minute renovations or errors, he found himself somewhere inside a vast, underground labyrinth.

This was the secret part of Castle Eyrie, kilometers of tunnels and chambers hollowed out of the mountain it stood on, where the beating hearts of its infrastructure were housed, and most relevantly for Sir Bond, where Ulfang’s riches and treasures were also stored.

Had Sir Bond been the only infiltrator that night, it would have been easy for him to find his way to the suspected locations of Kyra’s Tear, avoid the guards patrolling the place, and abscond with it.

The problem was, Sir Bond wasn’t the lone thief, and hadn’t been for a while now.

“GYAAAHHHH…!”

He didn’t need to activate the PEC to track where that voice came from or find out what was happening.

As quickly and stealthily as he could, Sir Bond chased after it and soon found where the bulk of Castle Eyrie's construction must have gone to:

Elaborate halls of death traps.

Bladed pendulums swinging down from above, floor spikes, fire spouts and arrow holes on the walls and the ceilings, trapdoors, pneumatic crushers, and whatever else other sorts of tools of death and destruction this world had invented and Lord Ulfang had constructed in his home. Either for the comic’s age-rating or simply how sturdy any given humanoid could be in this world, no one was outright killed or ended up a splattered mess on the scenery, instead fleeing and being knocked or launched back to safety.

But, from how beat up, devastated, and like pincushions they were afterward, surviving the traps was far from mercy.

Thankfully, Sir Bond was a professional with the right tools and skills for the job.

He started running up to a series of swinging pendulum blades. Underneath his chest, the PEC glowed, Sir Bond saw the same ripples as Loid did. Like flowing water, he slipped around, past, and along the blades, twisting his body in almost impossible angles, before he slid past the last one on his knees and a magical sheet of ice.

Then, he smoothly got back up to his feet, walked five steps, and had stone pillars come down on and around him.

THUD! THUD! THUD! CRACK!

Rather than Sir Bond’s bones shattering to splinters and dust, it was the pillar over Sir Bond's head that broke. Sir Bond had his dominant hand’s fingers pressed together, a sharp, diamond-like point forming over his nails.

As the other pillars smoothly back up into the ceiling, the one above Sir Bond creaked and shook, before it began to break apart in chunks.

Again, Sir Bond smoothly got up like it was barely any strain on him and found the path splitting into three halls. Each one had a different type of hell for would-be thieves, and Sir Bond chose the hallway full of physical arrows and magical projectiles firing from both sides.

They were too fast, too many, and too unpredictable to be dodged by flowing around them like Sir Bond had the pendulum blades earlier. So, he didn’t try to evade, he ran straight into the chamber of flying death at top speed.

Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Whoosh!

Sharp arrowheads and piercing spellshots roared at Sir Bond… and each of them missed, veering off course and missing Sir Bond, flying off at an entirely new angle altogether, or sucked into then blown away by the bubble of gale-force winds surrounding him.

Sir Bond reached the end of that hall, the only way forward was a blind corner. He kept on speeding up, the sounds of his footsteps and the wind rushing around him loud and obvious until he reached the corner and—

A gloved hand darted out and grabbed him by the collar, as another sank a black knife deep into Sir Bond’s heart.

… Or rather, the assassin tried, as that “Sir Bond” crumbled like dry sand.

“What--?!" the Black Blade cried before they looked up and caught a split-second of Sir Bond's fist accelerating towards their face, displaced air visibly rushing around his knuckles and wrist.

The result might have been far more brutal in real life, but in this world, it only launched the Black Blade backward, hit another one, and knocked them both out.

Sir Bond barely slowed down and kept running, dodging, ducking, and outright disappearing into thin air as several more knives, swords, and the odd bayonet came at him, each blade dark as a moonless night.

He went through a labyrinthine maze like a storm blowing through it, taking down and sweeping away any Black Blades that tried to stop him.

Even with his bare hands, Sir Bond was terrifyingly effective.

He smashed his elbow into one target.

Another tried to hook him in the head, but he ducked and punched them in the gut.

A third tried to stab him from above. Sir Bond grabbed their knife hand by the wrist before he twisted it. The Black Blade cried out in pain, Sir Bond grabbed their knife as it fell out of their hand, then stood up and struck!

Shink!

The Black Blade blinked, just realizing that Sir Bond had barely missed their cheek, pinned their hood to the wall, and had already fled seconds ago.

Sir Bond exited the maze into a large circular area, with a high ceiling, and several pillars and other support structures.

A nexus for construction workers this may have been originally, but right now, it was the scene of a ferocious, disorganized battle between the guards, the thieves, and the Crimson Mane Mercenaries.

Whose side the Crimson Manes were on, it did not seem to matter: they were going completely wild, crushing, smashing, slashing, and shooting at anything that wasn’t wearing their logo or something in their shade of red.

Sir Bond pulled out a spellslinger from inside his coat, but not to fight his way through the chaotic fray—if anything, he was going to make it even more of a mess.

A large buffalo warbeast swung around a giant club, thick enough to have been made out of a whole tree.

Sir Bond hit him in the eyes with a laser and blinded him.

The warbeast screamed and overswung, sending small victims flying and bowling over larger ones. Others ducked and dodged out of the way from fear or surprise, Sir Bond slipped past the break in the crowds, unnoticed.

Some Ulfang guard with a giant tower shield charged and plowed through anything in their way like a train.

Sir Bond shot the ground in front of him and turned it into a patch of ice.

The guard slipped on it and fell backward.

As he did, Sir Bond jumped onto his shield and launched off it, over the heads of several other melees, and ever closer towards an exit.

Lobbed bombs and projectiles flew in the air, some of them coming straight at Sir Bond or him coming straight for them.

Casually as could be, he dodged some, destroyed others, and then caught and threw the rest in different directions.

As explosives and projectiles started coming from unexpected directions, the dug-in shooters fled from cover, Sir Bond landed in the now-empty space and made a bee-line into the entrance of another narrow hall.

Then, five steps in:

CRASH!

The solid mountain stone wall beside him burst open, and a giant, furry hand with hoof-like ends on the fingers grabbed Sir Bond.

Caught by surprise and drained from all the spellcasting earlier, Sir Bond was pulled back through the hole, narrowly ducking and avoiding his head smashing against the edges.

As Sir Bond struggled and wrestled to break free, a gigantic, horned mountain of muscle scowled at him and growled, “I thought I smelled something familiar and foul earlier.”

It was one of his many archnemeses: Captain Velgar, of Valmontagne Company.

“Still don’t know who you are!” Velgar barked as he reached for Sir Bond with his other hand. “But I’m looking forward to putting you in the dirt and then forgetting about you all the same!”

Sir Bond’s eyes glowed bright, as did the spellslinger just barely peeking out from Velgar’s grip.

Flash!

Velgar winced from the flash bang, his grip weakened slightly.

Sir Bond freed his spellslinger arm completely, he aimed for a specific part of Velgar’s wrist, highlighted either by the artist or a spell he had cast on his eyes.

Bang!

Velgar roared in pain, his fingers opened almost immediately.

Sir Bond climbed up Velgar’s other hand, ran up his arm, and then kneed him in his open jaw.

Clack!

Velgar’s mouth slammed shut, the pain made him real.

Sir Bond dropped to the floor, slipped between Velgar’s gigantic legs, and ran past him.

“GE’H BACK ‘ERE…!” Velgar roared.

Sir Bond ignored him, running deeper into the hall until--

Crash! Thud!

He looked back over his shoulder to check and then stopped, dumbfounded.

Velgar had been smashed into the other side of the wall and made a new hole, the smoke trail implied he’d been hit in the side.

Behind him was Princess Pheyra, smoothly recovering from a kick before she looked right at Sir Bond through the dust clouds. All the traces of her friendliness was gone from her face, her eyes were narrowed, and all her many muscles were tensed up and bulging.

“If your goal is not Valmontagne, then leave me be,” she growled. “He is my prey and mine alone.”

Sir Bond decided not to question this turn of events, turned around, and kept running past dead-ends until he found a grand set of double doors… one that had its guards taken out and unconscious or helpless on the sides, and then blasted open with scorch marks and huge chunks of it gouged out, giant shards of ice and earth keeping them from closing.

Sir Bond grimaced. As he pulled out an Ultra Mana Potion and drank it, he could only think of one group of intruders that could have gotten past the traps, the guards, and the chaos ahead of him and everyone else…

“Stop right there, Child of Dust! The Immortal Hands are here to reclaim this sacred artifact from your greedy clutches!”

Sir Bond stopped just inside of the door, still holding his spellslinger ready, with a small handful of staves, wands, and other magical focuses pointed back at him. There was only five fae in the cavernous room, but the vast swathes of it devastated and abruptly renovated spoke to what power they had regardless.

Four of them were fortified positions or vantage points that would give them clear shots and angles to destroy Sir Bond. Their leader was standing in the center of the room, on the top of a raised platform where Kyra’s Eye was set on a pedestal. If there was any cover on the artifact, it had already been removed or destroyed.

“I’m sorry, Lucera, last I heard Kyra’s Eye was the property of Lord Ulfang,” Sir Bond said. “I believe you’re supposed to win his auction and pay him for it if you wanted it so badly.”

“Silence," Lucera snapped. "We do not answer to your laws or your flimsy 'economic systems'. Your civilizations all fall and crumble in time, only our order, our law, and our will are eternal."

“And yet somehow, all of them seem to benefit you all exclusively,” Sir Bond said, eyes subtly darting around. “Kind of a poor government if it just outright ignores everyone else as if they don’t exist, right?”

“You Children of Dust don’t deserve our attention, and would not have it if you were not all persistent nuisances,” Lucera said as she reached out for Kyra’s Eye. “Destroy him while I secure the artifact. We’ve no time for this fool nor the abominable knock-off he wields.”

The other Immortal Hands started to charge their weapons and spells.

Sir Bond began to sense the massive levels of magical energy gathering in them and flowing all around him.

Lucera carefully grabbed Kyra’s Eye.

And then, the Eye refused to come off and started glowing instead.

“What?” Lucera asked.

It was all she could say before a giant stone hand erupted from around her, its fingers closed on Lucera and Kyra’s Tear both. The other Immortal Hands were caught by surprise, stopping their casting and turning to watch the giant stone hand emerge from the ground and reveal the giant stone arm it was attached to.

“Welcome, welcome, one and all, to tonight’s surprise entertainment!” a voice half-shouted, half-laughed.

It was Ulfang, as shown by a shot of him in some control room, watching the chaos on several magical fields with a huge grin.

“You all thought that the highlight of this evening would be when I auction off some of my most prized treasures, with Kyra’s Eye as the most expensive...”

The chamber began to rock and crumble. The Immortal Hands broke formation to better position themselves against the giant, humanoid titan filling up the chamber.

“But in truth, it was I, Marquis Ulthur Ulfang, proving that no one, and I mean no one, will try to steal from me and succeed!”

The titan had emerged to its waist now, half the size of the room with two arms, a torso, and a head with gigantic crystal arrays for “eyes”.

The Immortal Hands started to attack it, summoning lighting storms, giant earthen spears, miniature infernos, and a magical wave like a tsunami.

But, they only seemed to scratch or dull the decorations on the titan, rather than damage it significantly.

“None of you will take what is rightfully mine and mine alone!” Ulfang roared as he fought back, swinging the titan's arms, and firing beams from its eyes. “All of you will beg for my mercy or perish for your hubris! And all of you are un-in-vi-ted to the auction and hereby banned from attending any of my parties ever again!”

The Immortal Hands’ numbers had been turned against them. There were only so many targets for Ulfang to keep track off, after all, with one of them already trapped in his hands. Sir Bond ducked under one of Ulfang’s titanic arms as it roared at him, he looked up, and noticed something:

A bright glow from its clenched hand, a distinctly different color than on the lines and jewels of Ulfang's titan.

Sir Bond pulled out his spellslinger and shot a water tendril at the arm.

It latched onto the wrist, Sir Bond was yanked up to his feet in an instant then sent hurtling straight toward the walls, the pillars, and the collapsing sections.

He blasted himself out of the way with gusts of air, ran along or launched off the surfaces of others, shortening the tether and getting closer to the titan’s hand as the glowing inside it intensified until—

BOOM!

A giant, fiery explosion blew open the fingers, Lucera flew out and tumbled along the dirt, smoking and ablaze. She crashed into a wall and gasped, then out flew Kyra’s Eye, tumbling away from her until it came to a stop.

Time slowed down for Sir Bond once more, and the ripples reappeared.

His eyes scanned all the available surfaces and hazards between him and Kyra’s Tear, lines, trajectories, and steps being written and crossed out until he finally finished and decided on one.

Sir Bond cut the tether.

He went rocketing through the air from the momentum, he spun himself around with blasts of air.

His feet slammed into a pillar, circular cracks radiating out far wider than they should have.

Then—KABOOM!

He blasted off it with another explosion, rushing straight toward Lucera.

Meanwhile, she had just recovered from the crash, picked herself up, and noticed Kyra’s Tear nearby. She reached over to pick it up.

Then, Sir Bond snatched it right from her fingers, a brief flash of his face before he was gone.

His balaclava had been damaged, not completely exposing his face but enough to show off the cheeky smile he had then.

Lucera screamed incoherently, Sir Bond made it back through the doors with Kyra’s Eye in hand, while the Immortal Hands and Ulfang kept themselves occupied.

The chaos there seemed to have spread outside, too. Dust and pieces of the walls were starting to crumble and fall, and the sounds of fighting echoing in from afar changed to that of panic and desperate asking if there was a way out.

Sir Bond ran back the way he came and stopped as he found Velgar and Princess Pheyra.

They were bruised, their clothes and armor damaged or missing, but even with all the chunks of ceiling and wall collapsing all around them, they were locked in a wrestling match, as if they could only see the other and think of defeating them.

Sir Bond put one hand over the PEC while the other pulled out his spellslinger. After a few moments of preparation, he shot Velgar in his side.

Velgar winced, Pheyra overpowered him and knocked him to the floor. However, she noticed the magical residue and didn’t look at all pleased.

She traced the source and hissed, “You tainted my victory.”

“My apologies, Princess,” Sir Bond said, his suit now a completely different color, his speech bubbles with some sort of distortion. “But, this place is about to collapse. If you live, you may hunt him again another day.”

Pheyra looked disgusted as she climbed off Velgar. “I don’t know who sent you to protect me, but know that I won’t be happy with you or them once I get back. Now, I have a way out, follow me.”

“Yes, Princess,” Sir Bond said, doing just that.

The shaking only seemed to worsen, the only saving grace was that the traps had mostly ceased to work. If it was an intimidation tactic, a plan to bury everyone here alive, or simply shoddy construction work, neither Sir Bond nor Princess Pheyra was willing to find out.

Pheyra smashed open a fake wall with her foot, revealing an elevator that seemed to be for workers or Ulfang’s convenience. Instead of using it, however, Pheyra started jumping on the walls of the shaft, Sir Bond followed suit best as he could.

They reached the top, exiting out to one of Castle Eyrie’s towers.

The festive air and the bright party lights were now replaced by alarms, shouting, and chaos. It seemed all of Ulfang’s above-ground guards had been mobilized, the aerial patrols especially crowding the skies.

“This was only made for me,” Pheyra said as she pulled out a wooden charm from inside her clothes and snapped it in half. As enchanted winds began to billow around her and swallow her up, she said, “You’re on your own for the rest.”

“Of course, Princess,” Sir Bond said, bowing.

Princess Pheyra disappeared in a vortex of wind, never losing the disdainful look on her face.

Sir Bond shielded his face with his arm, but still, the gusts ripped up and destroyed even more of his mask. Now in tatters and flapping all over his eyes, he ripped it off completely.

(I suppose no one else will recognize me now,) he thought as he headed outside.

Past the railing, there was nothing but air and the steep drop to the ocean below. Sir Bond climbed on top of the rail, enchanted his shoes, then started to walk down along the surfaces, defying gravity.

He turned at some point, away from the front of Castle Eyrie where a giant security blockade had already been built on the road leading up to it, and instead went toward the back where Castle Eyrie overlooked a vast expanse of the open sea.

For a few minutes, there was peace, fresh sea air, the coolness of the night, and nothing exploding and no one screaming right before Sir Bond’s ears.

He enjoyed it for a moment, smiling.

Then, there was shouting from the distance, guards on flying beasts or with wings of their own started chasing after him.

Sir Bond lost the smile and went back to business, picking up speed once more.

Projectiles started firing at him once more, some meant to pierce him through, others to blow him up, others to try and slow him down. The smooth, featureless outer wall started to get decorated with burn marks, arrows, javelins, and bullet holes, and spreading splotches of noxious chemicals and magical spells, while Sir Bond continued running along it, unharmed.

Finally, Sir Bond reached his destination, making a hard turn straight down.

Guards started to chase after him, coming from above and below, getting in close for better shots or trying to snatch him up. Part of the wall exploded from the inside, Sir Bond stumbled and fell off as the spell lost its purchase.

He flailed his arms and legs before he caught himself. Then, he pressed his limbs as close to his body as possible, making a bee-line straight into the sea and the crags below it.

Many of the guards started hesitating to chase him, they were flying too low, and he was going too fast. Others continued to chase Sir Bond, trying to hit him or at least track where he was going until—

BOOM!

He hit the water with the sound of a cannon going off. The guards continued to shoot at where he landed and around it, then stopped when a body floated up face-down.

“Someone go down and make sure,” one guard said. “We’re losing our big bonus if Kyra’s Eye is gone.”

Several Hours Later…

Castle Eyrie turned off its many lights and now the sun had risen and taken its rightful place back as Port Eyrie’s light source. With the party now over, it seemed that life and business were free to go back as they were.

Somewhere off its harbor, Princess Pheyra sulked as she leaned on the side of a ship, her outfit replaced with more practical, less revealing clothes that would protect her against the ravages of the sea.

Then, she noticed something in the water, and her eyes widened. “Man overboard! Man overboard!” she yelled.

Soon enough, the panel had changed to several sailors (mostly warbeasts) surrounding a soaked-through and miserable-looking man, the rescue spider still deployed and tangled around his chest.

A closer look revealed it to be Sir Bond, his clothes back to their original color, if a shade darker for all the seawater.

“Thank you, Princess Pheyra,” he said as he wiped some wet locks out of his eyes. “I thought I’d die lost at sea like so many others.”

“How did you end up in the water like this, Sir Bond?” Pheyra asked, worried.

“I’d be happy to explain after I’ve had an opportunity to dry myself first, Princess...” Sir Bond said sheepishly.

Pheyra sighed. “It seems liquids are ill omens for you this season...”

“Perhaps so,” Sir Bond said, nodding. “Any chance you can drop me off at some other port than this before you return to your kingdom?”

“Nonsense,” Pheyra said, smiling. “We’ll take you back to your country’s capital. That should give you plenty of time to explain your wild adventure last night, yes?”

“As you wish, Princess,” Sir Bond said, bowing.

The ship sailed on, away from Port Eyrie. But one small dot of many amid a sea of blue from his office window, Lord Ulfang did not even notice it as he raged and screamed, with shattered glass and bottles and spilled wine surrounding him.

Chapter Text

Loid reached the last page of the Spy Wars comic and then closed it, as the next few pages were all advertising. He didn’t want Anya getting too tempted by what they were selling, though she still seemed too excited to even notice the ads.

“Wasn’t that awesome?!” Anya cried, looking up expectantly at Loid and Yor both.

“Yes, it was!” Yor said, nodding. “I especially liked how they drew all the combat. That’s probably what I would have done to take out my opponents in that situation, too. Well, minus all the magic and magical weapons Sir Bond has.”

‘It was rather interesting, the sheer number of spells and magic on display back there,” Loid said. “I’m starting to see quite vividly why Mr. Paladia was worried you might start imitating some of these spells, Anya.”

“Can Anya still learn how to do them? Anya promises Anya won’t use them to hurt others or break stuff!” Anya said, giving Loid the puppy eyes.

(Assuming most of those spells can be cast by an individual, it wouldn't hurt to research this alongside Anya,) Loid thought. (If we ever get into trouble again, it'd be useful to see how many more options our magic could open up since we don't have anything like the PEC.)

Anya seemed to only get even more excited, the glint in her eyes intensifying to full-on sparkling—until she yawned and her eyes closed.

“I’ll think it over and tell you later, Anya,” Loid said as he picked her up again. “It seems like you’ve had enough excitement for now and could use a nap.”

“Mmm,” Anya said, a bit upset. “But Anya wants to know now…!”

“They’ll be a time for that later, Anya,” Loid said as he got up off the chair with Anya cradled in one arm. “A time when you’re awake and not about to fall asleep at any moment.”

Anya grumbled before another yawn overpowered her, and her eyelids began to droop.

Yor chuckled as she picked up the long-empty bowl of peanuts. “I’ll clean up while you tuck Anya in, Loid.”

“Thank you, Yor,” Loid said as he began to head up the stairs.

Anya grumbled again but it seems that sleepiness was rapidly winning; by the time Loid reached the second floor, Anya had already fallen asleep on his shoulder. With his free hand, Loid pulled down the stairs to Anya’s room, ascended to the attic, and walked over to her bed all the way on the other side.

He was reminded once more of just how empty this room was, now that so much of Jojo’s things had been moved out or condensed.

(This is just the barest necessary for someone to sleep safely and comfortably in, not a child's room,) Loid thought as he put Anya to bed and then began to tuck her in.

Anya mumbled, blindly reaching out for something. Loid picked up Mr. Chimera sat up nearby and placed him in Anya’s reach. He watched Anya’s hands sinking into the familiar fluff, she pulled him in closer, then sighed, satisfied.

Loid smiled, patting her on the head, before he started sneaking out of Anya’s room, examining all the free space while he was at it.

(That could use a vanity table, especially once she's older and thinking more about her appearance, or to help brush and care for her hair if she wants to grow it longer, like Yor. A bookshelf to put comics, future school books, and small items in would be useful, it could go over there. Should I consider buying her some sort of training equipment for magia since there will still be so much space?

(I suppose it depends on how large it is and what it entails,) Loid continued as he descended the stairs. (If it’s something as small as a dumbbell set or perhaps something she can practice levitating or moving around with her magic such as a small toy, it would be fine. But if it’s louder or potentially destructive like some sort of lightning rod to practice firing thunderbolts at, that would be difficult.)

Loid pushed the stairs back up to minimize the chances of a sleepy Anya accidentally falling down them, and then resumed thinking. (Mr. Paladia mentioned going to a gym. Do they have facilities and equipment for training magic? Or is that more for the Temple of the Dark Mother? They did recommend I go there for further magic training. Or, perhaps, they recommended it because they have experts and educators that can teach adults who are already far beyond the basics and need much more intense specialized training.

(Based on how everyone treats me and how well my magic has worked despite only having it for a few days, I can confidently say I know what I’m doing with it,) Loid thought. (Remedial training seems redundant and that is probably far from what they were offering.)

He stopped midway down the stairs to the ground floor and turned around, heading back up.

“Did you forget something, Loid?” Yor asked as she peered at him from one of the tables.

“More of I decided to move something else ahead of time,” Loid replied before he headed to her and Yor’s bedroom.

All the books Sister Tali had lent him on child raising were still there bundled up with string, and if his memory hadn't started to fail him now, he knew that there were some titles specifically on training young magical children.

Loid found it—and then decided to take the rest of the books with him, too. (I’ve done well so far improvising and being offered advice when I need it, but I need expert knowledge that can’t be condensed over tea and stories about the past,) he thought to himself.

He came back downstairs, Yor waved him over to the table she was sitting on.

“Are those the books Sister Tali gave you?” she asked.

“Yes," Loid said as he approached. "Since I expect things to settle down soon, it's high time I started learning how to best care for Anya day-to-day and in the long term.

“I guess you do have to redo all your old plans and habits, considering everything that happened,” Yor said, nodding.

“Yes,” Loid said as he took a chair beside her. “Though I must confess, I didn’t have much of either before we fled our country, either.”

“Did Anya’s mother never mention any of her tricks or experience raising her while you couldn’t live together?” Yor asked, curious.

Loid shook his head. “We thought of discussing it after we could find some way we could live together as a family. As a butler of the House I served, I had so many things and other people to take care of, that we thought it wouldn’t hurt if she took on the bulk of the childcare while I took care of the money and connections we’d need to achieve that goal.”

He looked down and continued, “I rather regret that now, but then again, I couldn’t have expected we would lose her so early and almost everything else after, too.”

Then, Loid felt a touch on his hand, gentle and warm despite the incredible strength he could feel even without the muscles being flexed. He looked up and saw Yor with an expression of deep sympathy, her eyes moist and glistening as she seemed to tear up a little.

There was a part of his heart that was warmed. And, there was a deep, deep pit in the back of his mind that felt guilty, knowing this was all based on a giant series of ever larger lies compounding on each other. But, he quieted that part of his brain, for Loid was a liar, and even if he did want to tell the truth, how could he tell it be believed?

So, ultimately, Loid decided to put his other hand over Yor’s, smiled at her, and said, “Thank you.”

Yor smiled back and nodded.

Without everyone else outside the house or asleep, there wasn’t really anyone that could interrupt their moment… so they stayed that way until the both of them got so flustered that they quietly took their hands back.

“We should probably get to reading while we still have free time,” Loid said, cheeks turning red. “Anya won’t be asleep forever.”

“Yeah, we probably should," Yor said, much redder than him with her ears drooping towards her face like they were trying to hide it. "Umm, you take one book, I'll take another?"

“This should be good,” Loid said as he grabbed one from the stack of books: Physical And Combat Training For Your Magical Child. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Yor said as she took it.

She didn’t even seem to examine it that much before she opened it and started reading, probably just grateful for the excuse not to look at Loid. Not that he could blame her, as he did the same with his book: Bound By Magical Blood (Vol. 1): A comprehensive guide for parents to raise their magical children, from birth up to 10 years old.

And after a few minutes of not being able to focus quite as much as he’d like, Loid eventually settled into examining this book to see if it was worth anything.

He trusted Sister Tali, of course. He believed that she had only the best of intentions for him and wouldn’t knowingly push terrible parenting advice on him. But even with most of Loid’s experience with children being working around them and keeping them out of harm’s way during his missions, Loid believed he could still tell when “professional parenting advice” was more harmful than helpful.

He’d witnessed many of his targets, their spouses, and their social circles engaging in some strange, sometimes terrifying trends and beliefs about child raising, like the “laissez-faire parenting” that the Desmonds allegedly used and popularized. He’d also lived through and seen what sort of men fathers would raise through “tough love”, and just how broken and twisted they could become when they became men themselves.

Thankfully, none of the advice in Sister Tali's recommendations seemed to be advocating for anything of the sort.

It could just be that the book’s audience was working-class folk. The authors mentioned asking for assistance from neighbors, relatives, and grandparents instead of hiring nannies and caregivers. There was also an explicit warning that this did not include the unique social concerns of noble-born magia or how to climb up the social ladder by using your child’s future potential as a court magician or other similar careers.

The lack of “tough love” could also be because the world was so inured to danger and built around violence that parents didn’t need to bother. Just head outside the safety of walls and the range of regular guard patrols, find some monsters, and you would have all the fear, danger, and hostility you could ever need to pressure a child into becoming stronger, braver, and more resilient if they were protected and guided well.

And most importantly, what pieces of advice Loid found were very useful, especially when he glanced over the section for dealing with “Common Emergencies (Magical).”

An “Overload” (short for “Magical Energy Overload” or “MEG” in most medical literature) happens when your magical child finds themselves overwhelmed and unable to control the sheer amount of magical power they are generating or is flowing into them from an outside source, to the point of it overflowing from their bodies and causing accidental magical discharges, i.e. shooting sparks from their hands, literally having steam coming out of their ears, or stomping hard enough to break the floorboards and shake the house…

… As it is extremely dangerous to both the child and those around them, magic-resistant armor and defensive spells are a must. If neither are available, then a tool such as a thick, elementally-proofed blanket can be substituted. This blanket could both be used to shield yourself as you approach your child, alongside used to wrap them up and immobilize them, minimizing the potential damage they can do to themselves and their surroundings as most of the excess mana and spells will be absorbed or nullified by the blanket.

Approaching an overloading magical child unprotected can easily result in serious injuries for all involved…

Loid sighed as he stopped reading for a moment.

The Paladias could be forgiven for only having a fire-proof wool blanket to smother kitchen fires, especially since they haven’t had a young magical child in their home for over a decade. Diana didn’t even live here anymore and probably wouldn’t move back so long as she was contractually bound to public service in Port Illyria.

So, Loid thought he really needed to go and ask Vahlen if he could weave him something Wind-magic proof—or perhaps ask around town to see if there were any families that would be happy to give them a hand-me-down.

Maybe he should go ask the Savanwoods if they had any spare protective equipment. With the triplets, Shen and Shai Li would do well to have extras and added layers of protection, just in case.

Whatever he would get, Loid would make sure he had at least the bare minimum of preparation and knowledge for any magical emergencies involving Anya and potentially him, too.

“You look troubled, Loid,” Yor said.

“Did I, now?” Loid said, looking up at her. “My apologies if I worried and disturbed your reading,” he said, forcing the tension out of his face.

“No, it’s alright, I just looked up because I read something you might want to hear about,” Yor said.

“What is it?” Loid asked.

“This,” Yor said, flipping her book over and pointing at a specific page.

Loid read the header: “Hunting With Your Child For Fun And Development”

"I sincerely hope this isn't advocating for any more Named hunts as we had with Ullgar," Loid said as he scanned the page.

“Not at all!” Yor said. “The book said that we should be focusing on weak prey that Anya can kill herself or things that she can help hunt down safely, like using her powers to track scents or detect noises from farther away than even I can. Gazyl did a lot of that sort of support while we were hunting together. Plus, Anya already seems to have sense for tracking, since she figured where Ullgar was before any one of us did.”

“She does seem to have a great sixth sense,” Loid said, looking up. “So since you’ve had 6 weeks hunting in the forests and swamps around Reinesburg, what do you suggest we hunt with Anya?”

“Rabbits, prey fowl, and some giant insects would be good, something that will normally run away instead of standing its ground and fight," Yor said. "Gazyl seemed to have a really easy time killing them, too. Sometimes he'd zap them to stun them and then break their necks before they recovered. A really stiff breeze could also flush things out in the open or just knock them over and make it easy for me take them down.

“We could also just go fishing. I think Anya can try to cast the line with her magic, then once something bites, we can help her reel it in. Or, well, maybe you can help her reel it in,” Yor said sheepishly.

“Because you’re too strong and might snap the line?” Loid said.

“Well, no, Gazyl’s lines are very strong, so it’s more the fish breaks before we can reel it in,” Yor said, looking down. “There were a lot of ripped-up pieces of fish and blood in the water before we decided that maybe it was better if I just helped keep Gazyl above water, in case he accidentally hooks a strong monster that wants to reel him in.”

“I can see that,” Loid said, nodding. “Maybe we should hold off on fishing as a trio until we can start trying to catch things that match your strength, and possibly Anya’s as well, once she grows up. It would be best if we take on something we can bring down together as a family.”

“Harpooning sea monsters, maybe?” Yor offered as she looked up. “I’m already used to throwing sharp objects and I’m sure Anya can, too, since Gazyl is so good at it and Jojo’s spear was also made for throwing.”

“That sounds good,” Loid said, nodding. “I’ll man the boat engine, keep it fueled and make sure our prey doesn’t get away or outmaneuver us.”

“I’d really like that,” Yor said, smiling. Then, she stopped and looked a bit troubled.

“What’s wrong?” Loid asked.

“I was just thinking about how we’re both making plans to have fun with Anya as a family and I’ve never really experienced anything like this before,” Yor said. “I mean, my brother and I went hunting and playing in the mountains outside our house, but it was without our parents since, you know, they died so early in our lives.

“I’m kind of worried I don’t have any experience of how a parent should be on these things, you know?” she said, looking at Loid.

“I'm sure you'll do fine, Yor," Loid said. "If we have fun, make memories, and keep all of our limbs and body parts intact, I'd call that a success even if we have no catches to show for our troubles. And I was already thinking of inviting Savanwoods to join us since they're already experienced parents and hunters both."

“We’re going to have to get a really big boat if we’re inviting Shen to go fishing or hunting out here,” Yor said. “Gazyl’s boat will probably start sinking even if he’s the only one on it.”

“That, and we’ll have to hunt something very large that will yield quite a lot of meat or just bring a lot of sandwiches with us,” Loid added.

“Definitely,” Yor said before the two of them laughed.

Elsewhere, on the second floor of Savanwood Bakery where the Savanwood family lived, Sying Li sleepily grumbled and rubbed her eyes.

“Something go boom-boom…?” she asked.

“No, Baba just sneezed, baobao,” Shen said, rubbing his nose on his forearm. “Probably just some flour that Baba didn’t clean up earlier. Though, now Baba does have this weird urge to invite the Forgers to go hunting with all of us!"

“Didn’t they just hunt Ullgar yesterday?” Sying Li said, confused.

“Right, they had,” Shen said, nodding. “I’ll give them a week or two to settle down completely and then ask them to go on a hunting trip together!” he said, smiling as he picked up Sying Li from her bed and cradled her in one arm.

“Does Sying Li have to be awake for that?” Sying Li said, peering intently at Shen.

“Not if you don’t want or don’t have to be, baobao,” Shen said, giggling as he rubbed between Sying Li’s ears with one large finger.

“Mmm," Sying Li said, ears twitching as she smiled for a moment before she closed her eyes again.

Chapter Text

The time passed leisurely, giving Loid plenty of time toread through and absorb Bound By Magical Blood (Vol. 1). While he was still lacking in many things, such as anecdotes about “how you, family, and friends learned and trained to be the mages you all are today” and “experiences growing up with magical powers at their age”, Loid figured he could put the rest to action once he had the time, the general education, and strengthened his connections with his many neighbors in Reinesburg, as well.

Above all else, however, he was going to prioritize this piece of advice in the book’s closing paragraphs:

“Magic is a core part of who your magical child is and will be, but it will never be what defines them. To their peers at this young age, your magical child is oftentimes just a friend who happens to be able to shoot sparks from their hands, and they will not treat them much differently outside of that. And you, also, should never forget to treat them as just a child like any other, who has the same needs for love, care, and attention as all children do.”

Loid shut the book and set it aside, satisfied. Now, if only he could ask the Paladias for pens and a notebook or two…

“Are you already done?” Yor asked.

“Yes,” Loid said, looking up at her and nodding.

“That was really fast,” Yor said.

“Well, as a butler, you learn to absorb those huge amounts of information quickly and keep them no matter what happens,” Loid said, shrugging. “Just qualifying to become one demands serious academic education, alongside the training for how to act, speak, and think.”

“I never realized becoming a noble’s servant was so much work,” Yor said, taken aback. “I thought you mostly just cleaned things, cook and serve food, and do errands, as Mr. Paladia does."

“I did all of those things as well,” Loid replied. “But, I suppose when it comes to serving the rich and famous, they can’t settle with someone just doing their chores and errands for them, they have to do it stylishly.”

“Do you think that maybe Anya could eventually become a servant like you someday?” Yor asked. At the unpleasant reaction Loid made, Yor added, "I meant, it could be one of her options for her future career?”

“I’d rather she doesn’t, honestly, Yor,” Loid replied. “The life of a noble’s servant is not without its benefits. But, I’ve found that the people who benefit the most are the ones who were born into the life, not the ones hired by them. So much will ultimately rely on the whims and feelings of her potential employers.

“Besides,” Loid said, “considering we’re commoners, the only types of noble houses that will hire Anya are knighthoods and baronies like Lord Colwyn’s.”

Yor made an unpleasant expression, too, her ears twitching. “Just nobles like Lord Colwyn…?”

Loid nodded. “Yes, if the nobility system in Lumania is anything like how it was in my home country. Unless they have no other choice, nobles are mostly served by people a level below them. The children of barons and knights serve viscounts, the children of viscounts serve counts, the children of counts serve marquises, and so on.

“The education, training, and the strictness required gets higher the ranks of nobility you go, too, to the point where you have to be born into a rich family to have the change chance to serve an even richer one.”

“Are the jobs different somehow?” Yor asked, confused.

“Not to my knowledge,” Loid said, shaking his head. “I’ve worked with countless servants up and down the ranks of nobility. The only things that tend to change are how expensive everything is, what families the servants come from, and how much trouble you’ll be in if you make a mistake or worse, offend someone important.”

“That sounds kind of ridiculous,” Yor said, frowning.

“It is,” Loid said, nodding. “But, ridiculous as it is, the nobles all agree this is how the system should be and we just have to live with it. Which is exactly why I want to give Anya as many options as possible aside from becoming a house servant.”

Yor nodded.

They stopped as they both noticed calm, slow footsteps approaching the restaurant before an older woman pushed open one of the double doors and peeked inside.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “is now a bad time?”

“No, not at all, Mrs. Mehra!” Loid said, standing up from his seat and heading to her. “Yor and I were just reading books and talking about how to raise Anya properly. Are you here for the card game with Mrs. Paladia?”

“Yes, I am,” Mrs. Mayari Mehra said, bowing her head slowly and smiling. “I’m a little early, however, since I wanted to brew and serve a tea that is different from what I usually bring Polly. I thought I’d need to spend some extra time teaching her, to serve it to the others in time,” she said as she pulled out an ornate wooden box from a pouch in her dress.

“If you don’t mind, perhaps you can teach me instead?” Loid said. “I’ve brewed a wide variety of teas in my time serving nobility, and I’d love to know how to brew the varieties available here in Lumania, especially if it’s from a veteran tea shop owner like yourself.”

Mrs. Mehra chuckled as she put the box back in her pouch. “My, such an eager student, aren’t we? Very well, please put a pot of water on the boil, I’ll join you once I’ve given my greetings to your wife, as well.”

“Right away, Mrs. Mehra,” Loid said, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing slightly before he headed off to the kitchen.

“Mrs. Forger,” Mrs. Mehra said as she went over to Yor and then bowed her head once more. “Good day, that’s quite the lovely new set of clothes you’re wearing. I can see now why there was such a fuss out in the street earlier today.”

Yor giggled. “Thank you, Mrs. Mehra. Mr. Vahlen made it for me, and for free at that. I’m quite thankful to him.”

Mrs. Mehra shook her head. “No, I think it’s what you deserve for helping permanently kill Ullgar. I believe told you this before, but, I’m also sure it was lost in all the revelry, so I’ll say it again:

“Ullgar almost killed my children when they were trying to forage for some of the wild teas we stock, almost cost my eldest both her arms and all her future plans with them. Knowing we all have one less danger to worry about out there brings my family a great sense of peace and relief, so thank you again from all of us for your bravery,” she said before she pressed her palms together and bowed.

Yor blushed. “Oh, this is a little much, Mrs. Mehra, please stop.”

Mrs. Mehra bent back up and then put a hand over her mouth as she chuckled. “Very well. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the kitchen now. I’m eager to see how well your husband can brew a cup of tea; my home country believes it’s one of the key tests of a servant’s worth, you know.”

“I think he’ll do really well,” Yor said, smiling. “Loid’s extremely talented and smart like that.”

Mrs. Mehra nodded. "Indeed. Quite the rare man, him; you're very lucky to have him and he, you, in turn.”

Yor nodded, blushing again. Then, her eyes widened, she gasped, and then stood up to tug at Mrs. Mehra’s sleeve. “Ah, Mrs. Mehra?”

“Yes, Mrs. Forger?” Mrs. Mehra asked, stopping.

“How many people are going to be in the card game and what do you usually have at the table?” Yor asked. “I’d like to get things ready for you all.”

“If young Jack is not joining us, there will be five of us but only four playing cards,” Mrs. Mehra replied. “The twins like to sit beside each other and take turns holding the cards, you see. And aside from a tea cup each, we’ll also usually have plates for tea sandwiches or some other small food, no utensils.”

“Five people, four playing cards, two chairs for one side, a teacup and a plate for each head, no utensils, got it," Yor said, nodding. "Is there any table you prefer?"

“We usually just play wherever, but I admire your thoroughness,” Mrs. Mehra said.

“Thank you, but it’s just that I want to be a good employee for Mrs. Polly,” Yor said. “We all owe her so much and I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Still admirable, I say," Mrs. Mehra said before she followed Loid into the kitchen.

Yor looked around and rearranged the seats of a table. She was about to head to the kitchen to fetch plates and cups when she heard heavy, loud steps coming up to the doors before they flew open.

“Good day!" shouted a large, thickly built man with a massive gut, tusks growing out of his mouth, and leather-like, dark brown skin. "I couldn't help but notice that Mayari was coming here early! Is she planning something special? Because I've just baked a loaf that I'm sure will make excellent sandwiches to pair with it, hahahahah!" he said, proudly holding up a round loaf loosely wrapped in cloth.

“Oh, hello,” Yor said, waving. “Mrs. Mehra brought some new tea today and she was worried that it might take longer than usual to brew it since Mrs. Polly doesn’t know it. Also, pardon me, but who are you again?”

“Rutger Rothgarr!” Rutger said, smiling as he nestled the bread in one arm and offered the other to shake. “And pay it no mind, Mrs. Forger, I don’t blame you. You were already so drunk by the time I made my way to your table to introduce myself and offer some of my stock in gratitude, hahaha!”

“Thank you, but sorry nonetheless, Mr. Rothgarr,” Yor said as she shook.

“Please, just call me Rutger,” Rutger replied, waving his hand. “Mr. Rothgarr only ever feels right for Dada, as he’s the one who joined and still is in the navy.”

“Would you like a seat, then, Rutger?” Yor said, gesturing to the table. “I can take that bread to the kitchen for you, too.”

“Thanks!” Rutger said, handing his loaf over before he took a seat. “Getting really into the waitress job even outside of operating hours, are you?”

“I want to make sure I can do a good job for Mrs. Polly, so I’m hoping you’ll let me use you all for practice,” Yor said.

“Well, I’m feeling already plenty welcome and well-served, for what that’s worth!!” Rutger beamed. “If I was in the service business than the distributing business, I’d love to have an employee like you.”

“Thank you, that means a lot,” Yor said. “Is there anything else you need?”

Rutger waved his hand. “No, no, I’m good! Too early in the day and not the cards group for a beer or four to go with the game.”

“Excuse me, then, Rutger,” Yor said, smiling before she strode off to the kitchen.

A pot had already been set on the boil and Loid and Mrs. Mehra had pulled out a tray and a tea set to accompany it. The wooden box had been opened, Yor could see metal and earthenware tools and smell the assorted dried leaves, seeds, and berries as she passed by it.

“That tea smells really nice, Mrs. Mehra,” Yor said. “So many different flavors and scents yet they don’t seem to be fighting each other.”

“You should try to smell it again when it’s been brewed,” Mrs. Mehra said, smiling. “Heat coaxes out the full strength of their aromas and water gives them a place to harmonize perfectly.”

“Is that a loaf of bread, by the way?” Loid said.

Yor nodded as she held it up. “Rutger gave it to us. He said it’d make great sandwiches.”

“He did mention he liked baking with all the yeast he gets from his beer brewer in Lulurun Valley,” Loid said as he headed to the fridge. “I’ll go see what we have.”

“You might want to hold off on that, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Mehra said. “The twins usually bring something as well.”

“The twins being Mr. Teodoro and Ms. Teresita Talosmonte, the owners of the grill across the street?” Loid asked, looking over his shoulder.

“One and the same,” Mrs. Mehra said as she walked over to the pot and turned off the stove. “You have an excellent memory, Mr. Forger; in such a short time, you seem to have already memorized so many of the townsfolk.”

“An impeccable memory for faces, names, and livelihoods is essential for being a butler of a marquis, especially when dealing with foreign guests who can’t just casually drop by at random,” Loid said as he put the loaf on top of a cutting board. “Even more so when an incident with them isn’t just embarrassing to my employer, it could escalate into a full-on diplomatic incident between nations.”

“That sounds really stressful,” Yor said as she took out plates from a cabinet.

“Yes, I did not particularly relish the job but I gave it my all regardless,” Loid said as he unwrapped the loaf. “It was for that world’s peace, too fragile as it ultimately was…” he said, looking somber.

“Perhaps it’s better we speak of this another time,” Mrs. Mehra said. “Tea cannot be brewed properly with a cloudy heart and mind both.”

“Of course, my apologies, Mrs. Mehra,” Loid said, straightening up and looking professional once more.

“I think I should go back to the dining room now,” Yor said as she carried the stack of plates. “I don’t want to distract you two while you make this tea.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Mehra said. “Still, feel free to join us once all is served and it’s time to deal cards. I’d love to get to know you two better, as I’m sure the others would, as well.”

“I’d like that, that sounds nice,” Yor said before she left the kitchen.

Rutger had already pulled out a well-worn pack of cards from his pockets and was playing solitaire, Yor set the player's table and then wondered what to do if Loid and her were joining or spectating.

Then, she heard the creak of moving mechanisms and a soft “thud” from upstairs.

“Oh! Anya must be awake!” Yor said as she began to head up.

“Already getting a sixth sense for the little one just like you helped make her, are you?" Rutger asked as he looked up from his cards. "That's really sweet."

“Oh, I just heard her lowering the stairs to her room, it's nothing that great,” Yor said, a little embarrassed.

“Maybe so, but still sweet!” Rutger said, chuckling before he went back to his cards.

Yor went up to the second floor and true to her ears, she saw Anya eagerly but slowly trying to climb down the attic stairs with Mr. Chimera in hand. Anya noticed her and cried, “Mama!”

“Afternoon, Anya!” Yor said as she reached up and picked Anya off the stairs. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Mmm!” Anya said, nodding. “But now Anya wants to know what’s going on downstairs!”

“Did you hear us all in the kitchen?” Yor asked, curious. “I thought Mrs. Polly said the floorboards were built sturdier and thicker than that.”

“Umm--” Anya said, panicking a little before she stopped as if she noticed something. “Mama, Mrs. Polly’s awake now, too. And it seems like Mrs. Polly’s in trouble.”

Yor turned her ears towards Mrs. Polly’s room and noticed some quiet, pained muttering. “Oh. She does seem to be in trouble. Let’s go check on her.”

Anya nodded before she moved around and settled into the crook of Yor’s arm.

“Mrs. Polly?” Yor asked, knocking lightly with one finger. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, Yor!” Mrs. Polly cried from inside. “Perfect timing. Door’s open, come inside, will you?”

Yor did and found Mrs. Polly resting on one side and rubbing the hip on the other. “My bad hip’s acting up all over again. Hand me my painkillers, will you?” she said, pointing at the bottle on the end table beside her.

Yor did, Mrs. Polly swallowed two of them and then sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Yor, dear,” Mrs. Polly said. “Could you do me another favor and entertain the neighbors for a while? Gonna be a while till I can get out of bed and get going again.”

“Loid and I already are,” Yor said. “Mrs. Mehra came in early because she brought some new tea and Rutger noticed her coming early and decided to follow after her. Oh, and he brought a loaf, too.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear, now I can relax and have something to look forward to later!” Mrs. Polly said, chuckling a bit before she winced.

“Can Anya do anything to help Mrs. Polly?” Anya asked. “Mrs. Polly seems to hurt a lot.”

“All that can help me now is time for the medicine to kick in, Anya,” Mrs. Polly said, sighing. “Though, if you or your Papa happen to want to learn some pain-relieving medical magics for real serious stuff a middle-aged woman’s bad hip, I’d be so grateful.”

“Anya will ask Papa about that!” Anya said, nodding and looking determined.

“Thank you, that makes me feel better already," Mrs. Polly said before she gestured out with her hand. "Now, go on, you all should be downstairs where it's lively, I'll be fine on my own."

Yor nodded. “We’ll see you later, Mrs. Polly,” she said, Anya waving goodbye before they left her room.

They were coming down the stairs just in time to see two bird warbeasts coming in and hauling a metal pot between them. They looked so similar they were unquestionably related.

“Hey, Mrs. Polly!” yelled the woman, Teresita. “Teo and I are here and brought a whole lot of leftover roast beef we saved from the carving table last night!”

“What do you mean ‘we’, Teri?” playfully said the man, Teodoro. “Last I remember, you were snacking on every last odd end and stray piece we couldn’t serve on a plate, it’s a miracle we didn’t just have to wipe down the board and be done with it.”

“Like you weren’t eating them yourself, Teo!” Teri snapped back.

“I was taking one or two pieces at a time,” Teo replied. “You were taking one or two handfuls!”

“If there’s enough meat there for me to make sandwiches for all of us, then there’s no reason for the two of you to argue,” Loid said as he came out of the kitchen to meet them.

“Don’t forget to use my loaf!” Rutger butt-in.

“Oh, nice! Rutger’s bread will be great with this,” Teo said, smiling. “We’ll just get this on the counter and it’s all yours, Mr. Forger.”

"Just bring back the pot whenever, once it’s empty,” Teri added before they made their way past him.

Loid nodded then looked up at Yor and Anya by the bottom of the stairs. “Hello again, Anya. Did you realize something was going on downstairs and came to investigate?”

“Mmm!” Anya said, nodding. “There’s a lot of food and people again! Anya can tell something exciting is happening!”

“By the way, everyone,” Yor added, “Mrs. Polly says her bad hip is acting up. She’s already taken her pain medication but it will be a while before she can come down to join us.”

“Ah, that’s a shame!” Rutger said. “But hey, if Polly’s not playing, that means one of you can join us instead!”

“I don't really play cards, sorry," Yor said. "Even without my memory loss, I don't think I ever got into them or anything related to gambling."

“I have and I can join after getting the refreshments ready,” Loid said. “Oh, but, I have to ask: do Port Illyria’s decks have 52 cards and 4 suits with 13 cards each?”

“They do!" Rutger said, holding up a few cards to show off.

“Then I’ll be fine,” Loid said. “Please excuse me, I’ll be heading back to the kitchen now.”

“Oh, oh!” Anya cried. “Can Anya join Papa? Anya wants to learn how to play!”

Loid looked doubtful.

“Ah, don’t give that face, Mr. Forger!” Rutger said, smiling. “Little lady ought to learn how to play with a standard deck! No better way to make fast friends with folks in Port Illyria than a card game! It’s one of the universal pleasures, Dada says, alongside good food, alcohol, and a friendly tussle!” he said, holding up his meaty fist before he let out another raucous laugh.

“I think I might like to learn by watching you play, too, Loid,” Yor said. “I won’t really have much to do without any other tables to serve.”

Loid looked at her and then at Anya giving him puppy dog eyes. He sighed and said, “Fine. But if only the game isn’t playing for large sums of money.”

“Relax, Mr. Forger!” Teri said as she walked past them and patted him on the shoulder. “The highest our pots ever go is 100 Fiorans on very long games, and even then we only ever bet or raise in 1’s or 2’s, 3’s if we’re feeling confident.”

“In other words, we play for literal pocket change!” Teo said as he followed suit.

“The cards are really more to keep the hands from idling and the food from disappearing too soon,” Mrs. Mehra said from the kitchen. “You'll find no bad blood from great losses or unpaid debts here."

Loid nodded. "Alright. You can join me to learn, Anya, and you can watch us play, Yor. But Anya, don’t start playing card games with strangers by yourself, always have me around with you, okay?”

“Yes, Papa!” Anya said, nodding eagerly.

“Good girl,” Loid said, reaching out and patting Anya on the head.

Anya giggled.

Soon, the sandwiches and tea were made and served, everyone took a few moments to enjoy them on their own and give their compliments. Then, with Yor sitting at an adjacent table, an eager Anya standing up on Loid’s lap, and the rest of the players in their seats, Rutger dealt starting hands, set up a pot of 1 fioran, and the game began.

Chapter Text

To avoid boring Anya with long explanations and holding up the game for everyone else, Rutger decided to explain as things became relevant.

“Right now, Anya,” Rutger said, “this is the ‘pre-flop’ round, where everyone gets dealt two cards that only they can use to win the game, no one else.”

Anya nodded. “So why are they all hidden?”

Rutger chuckled and said, “It’s so no one knows what cards everyone else has, which is where part of the challenge and the fun of the game is. I’ll explain why it’s important later, come on, everyone, check your hands,” he said as he swept his cards up with practiced ease, despite how large his hand and thick his fingers were.

Mrs. Mehra quietly put down her teacup and saucer, lifted her cards slightly from the table, nodded, then put them back down. “I’ve seen them,” she said as she returned to her tea

“And I'm feeling lucky this week!" Teo said, rubbing his hands before he swept up his hand with a flourish, a smile, and the feathers on his head rising. The smile disappeared and his head feathers lowered as he realized what he had gotten.

Beside him, Teri leaned in to look then laughed. “Looks like your feelings might have been misplaced, Teo,” she said before she took a bite out of her sandwich.

“Oh, shut up,” Teo grumbled.

Most of the table and Yor behind them chuckled or smiled at that, Teo just rested his elbow on the table and held up his cards so he and his sister could both see.

Loid picked up his hand, checked them, then lowered his hand for Anya to see comfortably.

“Does your Papa have his cards now?” Rutger asked.

“Yeah!” Anya said, nodding. “Anya and Papa both know what they are!”

“Good!” Rutger said, nodding. “Don’t tell anyone else what they are, now, little lady. Now, we start with the first round of betting! This is when the players start putting their money down to start and keep playing the game.”

“Already?” Yor asked. “Sorry, but I don’t get why you have to put down money this early when you’ve only got two cards and nothing else.”

“The thing is, depending on those 2 cards, your chances of winning will be much greater or lower than everyone else!" Rutger said. "Someone who's normally a confident player with loose purse strings might start tightening them up in the face of a bad starting hand, like Teo over there."

Teo shot Rutger a dirty look but quickly relaxed.

“So everyone doesn’t start evenly?” Yor asked. “It doesn’t seem like much of a game to me if you have to count on getting lucky to win.”

“Hahaha, yes, well, luck is only one part of winning poker, I assure you,” Rutger said. “Speaking of which: by this table’s rules, I have to bet 1 fioran to keep playing,” Rutger said, proudly pulling out a single copper coin from a rough-looking cloth sack stained with countless old spots and splotches of different colors.

“And now that I’ve put my money in, to keep playing, everyone has to ‘call’, put the same amount of money I did, or ‘raise’, more than what I put in, or ‘fold’, give up, put their cards down, and lose whatever money they put in. Oh, and so you know,” Rutger said, glancing to the side, “order usually goes clockwise with us from the current dealer, so what will you do, Mr. Forger?”

“I call,” Loid said as he pulled out 1 fioran from the pouch Mayor Ibroix gave him and put it in the pot.

“And I raise to 2 fiorans,” Mrs. Mehra said, opening a colorful fabric pouch with an elaborate, flower-themed pattern, then pulling out two copper coins.

“Oh-ho?” Rutger said, grinning. “Demonstrating for the little lady or are you feeling confident in your odds of winning already, Mayari?”

“Maybe so, maybe not,” Mrs. Mehra said with a calm, almost unreadable expression. “Teo?”

Teo sighed, said, “I call,” and then pulled two coins out of a leather pouch decorated with a feather and some predator’s talons.

“Careful you don’t bankrupt us before I even get a chance to play, Teo, your ‘lucky feeling’ will only get us so far,” Teri teased.

“Ah, maybe things will get better at the flop, Teri,” Teo grumbled.

“Is that the next part of the game?” Anya asked.

“Does anyone get knocked off their seats?” Yor asked curiously.

Rutger roared with laughter. “Only if they’ve made a tremendously bad bet and realized they’re going to lose it all, Mrs. Forger!” he cried. He shook his head, took a few breaths to recover, then said, “All joking aside…

“The flop is when the dealer sets out 3 cards on the table for everyone to see and use, for now,” Rutger said as he laid them face down. “With 2 in the player’s hand and the ones on the table, the players will try to make a combination of up to 5 cards. The rarer the combination, the more valuable it is, and if there happens to be more than one player still in the game by the end of the last betting round, you all reveal your cards, and whoever has the most valuable combo wins."

“So it’s just a matter of luck again?” Yor asked.

“Yes, and because of that, I think that winning the 'showdown' is the boring way to win,” Rutger said.

“So what’s the fun way to win?” Anya asked.

Rutger grinned and said, “You convince everyone else to fold, by making them believe you have the more valuable hand, regardless of what cards you’re holding and how good they might be.”

“So the fun way to win is to lie…?” Anya asked, confused, concerned, and a bit excited.

“In poker, it’s called ‘bluffing’, little lady, but yes, you lie to try to win,” Rutger said, nodding eagerly.

“Oh!” Yor said, her ears perking up. “Then you must be very good at poker, Loid, since you said you were a liar and all.”

“Oh…!?" Teri went, her eyes widening and the feathers on her head rising up significantly. "Is that a hint of juicy gossip I just heard?!"

“Yes, but out of date and a world away from Port Illyria, Ms. Telosmonte," Loid said. "I'm not proud to say it, but I will confess I was a liar and a womanizer while I was still a butler, up until I met Anya's mother when I started to change my ways. Now that I'm Anya's sole remaining blood parent and I'm married to Yor, I've resolved to change for the better for good."

“So less juicy gossip and more a pleasant tale of a man maturing and moving on from his past as a scoundrel," Mrs. Mehra said, smiling.

“And good for you—honestly, I'm not being sarcastic!" Teri said. "But, there goes my chance to be the star of next week's den-mother meet-up, I suppose," she continued as her head feathers lowered back to normal.

“Why are you always so obsessed with having gossip for the meet-up?” Teo asked.

“Well, what else do you think we talk about when we’re able to get together without the kids?” Teri countered.

Teo stared blankly at Teri before he shook his head and turned back to the table. “We’re getting everyone off-track, let’s just get back to the game.”

"Can I ask about what the den-mother meet-up is before we do, though?" Yor asked.

“It’s a once-a-week meet-up of all the warbeasts and other species clan-kin who are den-mothers in Port Illyria, my group meets every Saturday mid-morning,” Teri said.

“What’s a den-mother?” Anya asked.

“It usually means a warbeast woman who regularly takes care of their and/or other people’s kids at the same time, usually like a half-a-dozen kids or more at once, several days a week, and not just occasional babysitting when their blood-kin needs a break,” Teri explained.

“Can I join?" Yor asked. "I'd love to meet more mothers since I'm really new to this."

“Yeah, no offense to you, Mrs. Forger, but I don't think you should join in, you might just stand out in a bad way and not have much in common to connect with the others," Teri said. “It’s a really different atmosphere and crowd than most of Reinesburg is, especially with how many of us are polyamorous.

“I’m assuming you and Mr. Forger are in an exclusive relationship, so things might get awkward because I’d bet anything there are going to be a lot of folks trying to flirt with you.”

Yor nodded. “Okay, I don’t think I’ll go, then. You get back to the game now, thanks!”

“What was all that about poly-am-ru-something?” Anya asked.

“I’ll explain later, Anya, it can be a little complicated,” Loid said. “Best to just focus on learning poker for now, lest you put too much information in than your brain can handle. You might not learn anything in the end and just end up with a headache.”

Anya nodded, dissatisfied but relenting.

“I’d be happy to help explain then if Anya's still up for it!" Teri said proudly.

"I'd appreciate it," Loid said. "Now, I believe we got derailed while Rutger was explaining bluffing and how to use it to win a game of poker?”

“Aye, I think we were there, Mr. Forger!” Rutger said. “Anyway, little lady, bluffing is the key to turning bad odds in your favor and where you get to have your skills as a poker player tested.

"Getting dealt a hand of cards that are guaranteed to win over everyone else's is just a matter of chance; so long as you don’t run out of money in the meanwhile, you just have to play enough games till you’re guaranteed to win,” Rutger said. “Maybe professional fae players can stand never winning a game for weeks or months at a time, but most people don’t have their patience or the luxury of a lifespan that could be as long as you want it to be, and without aging like the rest of us, too.

“Bluffing your way to victory, however, has no guarantees and keeps things interesting,” Rutger said, chuckling and growing excited.

“Every player will be different, each with their hints to guess at what they’re really thinking or what they would want you to think. And you have to figure that out while at the same time, keeping them from figuring you out, too.

“Especially in a real game with much higher stakes and costs just to start playing at the table, everyone’s only going to have so much money they can use, and so much more money you could get if happen to be the winner. Aah, the pressure and the emotions can get so high and so powerful, there’s scarcely any substance, spell, or situation in the world that can replicate it!

“(Well, except maybe hunting monsters at sea or land, but the odds of getting killed or dismembered because of a game of poker is significantly lower,)” Rutger quietly added.

“Anyway! In a friendly game for pocket change like ours, it's fun to be able to prove you can outplay your buddies and know them better than they do you!" Rutger finished, beaming.

“So is that why Mr. Rutger likes playing this game?” Anya asked. “Because it’s like Mr. Rutger can read minds?”

“Aye!” Rutger said, nodding. “Though I’ll admit, if I was offered some miraculous way to peer into my opponent’s heads and know exactly what they’re thinking so I can win every game, I won’t take it. The chance I can still lose from bad cards or a wrong guess is part of the excitement too, you know?”

Anya nodded. “Anya thinks Anya is going to like this game now, too.”

“Then let's get back to it!" Rutger said. "So, now that it's the flop, everyone can now see what sorts of combinations they can make with their cards and how valuable they'll be. This is also a great time to pay attention to your opponents and their reactions since even a strong starting hand is useless without the right cards to combine it with.

“We have another round of betting, which is when I usually like to go hard on the bluffing and try to get the other players to act how I want,” Rutger said.

“By making them all quit before Mr. Rutger?” Anya said. “Um, ‘fold’?”

“Aye,” Rutger said. “However, getting everyone to fold too early can lead to a hollow victory, as even if it’s winner take all, you don’t take all that much in the end with just a handful of bets and the buy-ins.”

Anya nodded.

“Since we got caught up in conversation earlier, does anyone need to check their cards again before I reveal the community cards?” Rutger asked, looking around.

“I still remember mine, Rutger,” Mrs. Mehra said.

Teo glanced at his cards again, sighed heavily, then said, “Yeah, they’re still the same.”

“Same here,” Loid said.

“Then without further hullabaloo, the first 3 from the flop,” Rutger said, dramatically flipping them over one at a time.

(No strong combinations yet, but there is still an opportunity for my luck to change,) Loid thought to himself.

“And like I said earlier, another betting round begins,” Rutger said. He examined the cards on the table and then the ones in his hand, pushed forward two more copper coins, and said, "I call.”

“I call as well,” Loid said, stacking his coins and pushing them forward like he would have chips.

“Call,” Mrs. Mehra said, daintily putting down two more on the pile in the center.

“Call,” Teo sighed as he dropped 2 more, one of them bouncing slightly.

“And with the end of this round of betting, it’s time for the ‘turn,’ where the 4^th community card is put on the table,” Rutger said. “Ah, it never gets old, how much revealing just one more card can change the flow of a game and the attitudes of its player, little lady! Clear winners suddenly have challengers, losers get a spark of hope that they might still turn this around, or confidence starts to crack as wishful thinking gets someone nowhere.”

Loid was in none of those categories as Rutger revealed the 4 ^th card of 5. He wasn't thinking of or really needed to take this game seriously, considering the others explicitly explained it was just to pass the time while sharing stories and catching up.

But then, Anya tugged at his sleeve. Loid looked down, her expression looked oddly serious, her eyes locked on Loid and unmistakably vying for his attention.

“Pardon me for a moment, everyone, it seems like Anya needs to tell me something,” Loid said.

“Hah! Take your time,” Rutger said, waving his hand and picking up a sandwich off the serving plate with his free hand. “Might the little lady need to powder her nose?”

“Powder her nose?” Yor asked, confused.

“It’s trader’s tongue slang for going to the bathroom, Mrs. Forger, so you aren’t as blatant about it,” Teo said. “Most people consider it polite to hear and less embarrassing to say, with the notable exception of my sister.”

Teri huffed. “Most people get too caught up in silly rules and weird attitudes over the simplest things,” she muttered.

“Ah,” Yor said. “Thank you, Mr. Telosmonte”

Meanwhile, Loid leaned down and asked Anya, “Well?”

Anya cupped her hands around her mouth, Loid turned his head around so she could whisper in his ear.

"Mr. Teo's going to fold soon," she said as discreetly as he could. "Mr. Rutger has bad cards but Mr. Rutger’s hiding it to Mr. Rutger can bluff and still win. Mrs. Mehra really likes Mrs. Mehra’s cards, though Mrs. Mehra's still hoping the cards Mrs. Mehra wants to show up, show up."

With all of his expertise, Loid hid his surprise. Thanks to the conversation about powdering noses or Rutger and Mrs. Mehra returning to the sandwiches and tea, no one noticed what she said.

“I see, Anya,” Loid said, pulling away and then patting her on the head to praise her.

(That’s extremely useful information, if true,) Loid said. (Best to just play with it regardless, I wouldn’t want Anya to think I’m ignoring her attempt to help, even though it would be cheating. It's not like I can't afford to lose the money and this isn't even a serious game.)

Anya beamed, happy, before she noticed the others looking at her curiously or with smiles. Then, Anya conspicuously moved back to a more neutral expression.

Loid made a quiet note to teach her how to make a better poker face, once she was older and her brain was developed enough to manage her emotions all by herself. In the meanwhile, he looked back up at the table and said:

“Alright, we’re done. We can resume playing, sorry for the delay everyone.”

Busy with a mouthful of roast beef sandwich, Rutger nodded before he put his sandwich down and placed down 2 fiorans—then another on top of the small stack.

“Was that a raise, Rutger?” Loid asked, looking at him.

Rutger chewed through his mouthful, swallowed loudly, then grinned and said, “Aye. How about you, Mr. Forger?”

There was a gleam in his eye. Feigning confidence in the face of bad odds? Failure to hide his joy at a strong hand and an even better set of community cards to complement it? Loid could have raised, calling out Rutger’s bluff or making him think that Loid also had a strong hand and that Rutger’s victory wasn’t assured…

But, ultimately Loid played it safe and decided to call.

If Rutger really did have a bad hand as Anya suspected, it might be better to let it go to a showdown where his loss was guaranteed, or more accurately, statistically much more likely. As Rutger himself mentioned, Loid would also have more to gain if he let Rutger bet for longer—and Rutger did not strike him as conservative with his bets.

But then again, it wasn't Rutger he had to worry about if it came to a showdown, but Mrs. Mehra.

Ironic, that of all the people at this table, Loid found himself wariest of the middle-aged woman who didn’t seem to have any particular fondness for poker. But still, she was playing similarly to how a professional would:

With a neutral face, no particular reactions good or bad to whatever happened, and of course, there was her raising her bet just before Teo. Everyone knew he had a bad hand without even needing to see his cards, the action likely caused him more psychological damage, and increased his chances of folding like Anya predicted, improving Mrs. Mehra’s chances of winning.

Maybe she did feel confident about her odds of winning with a strong hand waiting for the right cards. Or maybe this was just all a coincidence and as Rutger lamented, the statistical odds just happened to favor Mrs. Mehra this game and she would win so long as she didn't fold.

“I call,” Mrs. Mehra said, adding three more coins before picking up her tea and looking at Teo over the rim.

Teo was grimacing and more deflated than ever now, and Teri seemed to just be enjoying her brother’s misery. If this were anything but a casual game for pocket change, Loid would have wondered just what their intention was with all this sabotage, though admittedly no casino dealer would have tolerated them being seated like this, to begin with.

And then, to no one’s surprise, Teo sighed, quietly put down his cards, and said, “I fold.”

Teri laughed for a moment. "Don't worry, Teo, I'm going to win back what you lost and then some next game when I have the cards!"

Teo just rolled his eyes and picked up his cup of tea.

One of Anya's predictions came true, sure of a bet that might have been even to any outside observer. Loid wasn't particularly thinking of playing as well as he would have, considering the stakes and how much more valuable good relations with the neighbors were, but with how into the game Anya seemed to be becoming, he reconsidered.

And so, with nothing more to win but a handful of pocket change and giving his daughter the satisfaction of being proven right, Loid decided to take the game a bit more seriously.

Chapter Text

“That’s the end of the turn, then!” Rutger said, still in high spirits. “Now, little lady, comes the ‘river’, the drawing of the 5th and last community card. With this, all the cards will literally be on the table, everyone will know exactly how good their hand is, and what their odds of winning are if it comes to a showdown and their cards will be the only thing that matters.

“How are you all feeling about your odds right now, by the way? Because I’m feeling plenty good about mine!” Rutger said as he picked one more card off the deck and placed it face down.

“I don’t particularly feel anything in either direction, Rutger,” Mrs. Mehra said calmly, hands occupied with her tea cup and saucer.

“Sorry to be a bit rude, but I’d rather not say,” Loid said, smiling.

“Oh-ho?” Rutger said, raising an eyebrow. “How about now, then?” he asked as he flipped the card up on the table.

(Useful,) Loid thought to himself. To Rutger and the rest, however, he said, “I stand by my earlier choice, Rutger. Apologies again.”

Rutger shrugged. “Alright, then,” he said as he returned to his sandwich with his free hand.

Was he figuring out what to do with his allegedly bad hand, or was he simply just hungry? Whatever species Rutger was, it seemed probable that they would need to eat far more than the average human. Rutger might also have been extremely fond of eating and drinking for pleasure if drinking beer wasn't his only source of excess calories.

Loid sighed internally. It was difficult to seriously examine Rutger this late in the game and make any serious conclusion.

If Loid was giving his all from the start, he could have probably learned to read all of the players with the use of some prompting and provocation, like Rutger tried to use on him. As with many of Loid’s operations in his past life, the best time to have acted was in the past before things got to this point.

But, just like those operations, the situation had Loid at a disadvantage, but it wasn’t unsalvageable.

“It’s time for the last betting round!” Rutger said proudly. “If any of you want to fold and save yourself some fio’s, now would be the time,” he said as he put down a trio of coins—and then dramatically smacked down a 4^th.

“A raise, Rutger?” Mrs. Mehra asked in all her usual calm. “Are you really so confident in your hand or do you just want to show off how much money your business lets you lose with an easy conscience?”

“Maybe so, maybe not, could be both,” Rutger said as he slid them forward before he turned to Loid with a huge grin.

It was different this time. Not threatening, even with his tusks, his muscles underneath the fat, and his rough leathery skin. Rutger was just excited. Like he was waiting to see what Loid would do, a deliberate provocation hoping for a clear reaction. If Loid folded from the intimidation then, it might have just been a bonus for Rutger, a detail to add to his mental file still.

So, Loid put down a stack of five and said, “I raise.”

The excitement on Rutger’s face grew. “One for holding back till the last minute, eh, Mr. Forger?” he said quietly. “I can respect that.”

Loid just kept his expression neutral, giving Rutger no clear response.

“My, it seems this confidence is infectious,” Mrs. Mehra said, putting down her cup and covering her mouth as she chuckled. Then, she calmly pulled out 6 from her purse and put them down.

Teri whistled. “You sure there wasn’t something in this tea of yours instead, Mrs. Mehra?” she joked.

Mrs. Mehra smiled, looked at Teri, and with her normal tone unchanged but her eyes unquestionably different, she said, "Don't insult my tea-making skills like that, Teresita. I'd never knowingly taint a brew or serve one that is to someone I wish to entertain.”

Teri blinked before she slowly raised her hands up. “Okay, sorry! Adding that to the list of things I shouldn’t say to you.”

“Thank you, Teresita,” Mrs. Mehra said, nodding before she turned back to Rutger. “Now then, Rutger? I believe it’s time for the showdown.”

"That it is!" Rutger said. "This, little lady, is when the players stop bluffing and betting because it’s time to let the cards speak for themselves. Our table shows off our hands one at a time, in the same order as betting. So, without further hullabaloo...”

Rutger put down both his cards and then pushed one of them toward the community cards.

A 6 of Clubs, to match with the 6 of Diamonds on the table.

“One pair,” he said with an embarrassed smile. “Mr. Forger?”

Loid quietly down his cards and pushed them both forward.

An 8 of Spades and an 8 of Clubs, to match with the 8 of Hearts on the table.

“Three of a kind,” Loid said. “Mrs. Mehra?”

Mrs. Mehra flipped over her cards, put a finger on each, and then slid them forward.

A Jack of Spades and a 10 of Spades, to match with the 9 of Clubs, the 8 of Hearts, and the 7 of Diamonds on the table.

“Straight, gentlemen,” Mrs. Mehra said, breaking out into a small but notable smile.

Loid made a short, quiet clap.

Rutger sighed, deflating a bit, before he recovered, smiled, and pushed the pot Mrs. Mehra’s way.

Meanwhile, from excited anticipation, Anya’s expression turned to confusion then disappointment.

“Aww, did Papa lose?” Anya asked.

“Aye, that he did, little lady, as did the rest of us! Winner takes all, poker is,” Rutger said. “We didn’t play well enough and in the end, Mayari got the best hand of the three of us.”

“It’s just how it is with poker, Anya,” Loid said, patting her on the head. “Even with the best bluffing skills, you can’t win them all.”

Anya still looked disappointed.

“And that is why we always have more than one game!” Rutger said as he started sweeping up the cards and bringing them back into one deck. “Gotta give everyone a chance to try and win back what they lost, and also, we need at least 2 games for both the twins to get a fair shot!”

“Why do you two take turns playing?” Yor asked. “Is it because poker only allows 4 players?”

“Nah, most tables at a casino would seat 6-8 players regularly," Teri said, waving her hand. "It's just that since the two of us pull from the same funds, if we play together, there isn't much satisfaction if we play together, for pocket change or not."

“If either of us wins, it just feels like we might as well have shuffled our money around for fun instead," Teo said. "And if we lose, it feels like we just lost doubly so for no good reason, as both of us would have to call just to keep the game going."

“So you two don’t keep separate bank accounts?” Loid asked.

“Nah, it doesn’t feel right to us,” Teri said, shaking her head. “I suppose it has to do with how and where we were raised.”

“And what was your childhood like back where you were raised?” Loid asked. “Sorry if I’m sounding rude by prying so much, I’m just quite curious and interested to know things, especially about other people.”

“Hah!” Teri snorted, waving a hand. “This is Port Illyria, Mr. Forger; ‘Where are you from?’ and ‘How were things there?’ are two of the most common questions you use to introduce yourself to someone, everyone does it.”

Loid nodded. He supposed it made sense, with how much of an international melting pot the region was.

“Anyway,” Teri said, “we grew up in a monastery at Mt. Telos, which is outside of Port Illyria and the Illyria Accords, but not that far outside it. We're just north of Lulurun Valley, though admittedly most visitors have to fly in and out because we don't have any rivers that ships can pass through easily and the terrain is uneven and full of small hills and mountains, so it’s hard for anything on wheels to travel there.

“It’s a nice place despite being so isolated, honest! It’s full of huge trees, exotic plants, and wildlife that you can’t find anywhere else,” Teri continued. “We get tourists and outsiders coming in for work or pleasure, staffing the research station or vacationing at the hunting lodge, and both looking to bag something rare that no one has seen yet or have only just recently popped up.

“But, we can’t grow much of anything there and it’s hard to set up factories with how little space we can safely build in already, so we have to import lots of stuff just to stay alive and live decently.”

“Like what, exactly?” Loid asked.

“Fresh vegetables and fruits, medicine and medical equipment, weapons and weapon supplies, magical equipment to keep the windmills and the underground aquifers water pumps working…” Teri said. “You have to buy them all from elsewhere, plus making sure it gets to Mt. Telos in one piece and on time gets expensive.”

“Currency also is king for payments outside the village,” Teo continued. “Merchants and transporters will only take so much as barter if they take them at all. It’s especially bad if the merchant happens to be vegan because we usually trade in animal hides, jerky, and barbecue.”

“You really want to ask before offering those,” Teri said. “Else, things get awkward.”

“I can imagine,” Loid said before he nodded at her to continue.

“Anyway,” Teo said, “the town made it so taxes could often only be paid in coin only, and whatever money was left was usually put into a household fund because there was only so much of it left behind afterward. Especially in the monastery Teri and I were raised in, no one got an allowance they could save up for their use, so much as ‘your share’ of ‘our money’ when time and circumstances let you.”

“That was usually when we were celebrating birthdays, holidays, and achievements, like your first solo kill!” Teri said cheerfully. “But, sometimes it’s for serious stuff paying exam and licensing fees, surgery or medical treatments elsewhere because our clinic can’t provide them, or giving them money they could use to start a new life elsewhere,” she said more somberly.

"After about 2 decades being used to thinking about finances in terms of 'our money and my share of it', and both of us having co-signed the contract for the grill and our house above it, we figured that we could keep living with just two bank accounts, one for the house and one for the business, instead of splitting it across three," Teo said.

“Compound interest is a lovely thing and we love to take advantage of it,” Teo said, he and Teri both nodding appreciatively.

“We also don’t see that needing to change any time soon, because we’re probably never going to get into any legal unions like marriage, and I’m personally going to stay single and childless,” Teri said.

"The choices available here in Lumania or Port Illyria just don't work for how either of our love lives is," Teo said.

“So wait, does that mean den-mothers don’t need to be married or have their own kids?” Yor asked.

“Nope!” Teri replied, looking at Yor. “You could say I’m continuing the proud, ancient tradition of den-mothers who love to take care of kids but can’t stand the thought of even having one themselves.”

She shuddered and continued, “Agh, even just the thought of me getting pregnant makes me up-set.”

“Why?” Anya asked.

“You don’t need to know, kiddo, not for like, 5-7 years yet,” Teri said, a haunted look in her eyes. “Stay innocent. Don’t ask questions that you’re not prepared to know the answers to yet. Hell, it was time for me to learn it when they taught it to me and I wasn’t ready.”

Anya blinked, confused and concerned.

Meanwhile, Loid cleared his throat. “I think my curiosity has been satisfied, thank you, Mr. and Ms. Telosmonte. Now then, how about we start a new game so she can play?”

“Yeah, yeah, a new round of poker, let’s do it,” Teri said, shaking her head gently and bringing herself back to the present. “Gotta win back the money Teo lost, at least.”

“Rutger?” Loid asked, turning to him.

“Aye, certainly, Mr. Forger!” Rutger said, holding up the reorganized deck of cards. “Though, I must mention we sometimes take turns being the dealer. Care to show us how you handle cards or would you rather I do it again?”

“I’d be glad to since you’re already offering,” Loid said, reaching out and taking the deck from Rutger. “Everyone ready?”

“Deal me in, buddy!” Teri said with a confident grin as she leaned in and rested one arm on the table.

“I’m always up for a game, hahahah!” Rutger said, grinning.

“I’d like to ask for a refill before I start playing again, please,” Mrs. Mehra said, looking at Yor and raising her cup.

“Right away, Mrs. Mehra!” Yor said as she stood up and walked over.

“I’ll just shuffle the deck while you do that,” Loid said before he proceeded to do it on the table.

Having learned how to deal from countless times he impersonated a casino dealer or dealt in an underground gambling ring, Loid knew almost every way to rig a deck in his or a specific player’s favor.

The thought of cheating crossed his mind for a moment.

Then, he quickly banished it from his head. It just wasn’t worth the amounts being bet here or the non-monetary benefits. If anything, there were only non-monetary detriments, as the others catching Loid cheating would ruin everyone’s opinion of him, not to mention it was a bad example for Anya.

It was especially prominent as she still seemed to be getting into poker. Just her sitting down at a professional table was worrying enough for Loid, what if she was sitting down with the intention to cheat, she was found out, and the retaliation got violent?

This world had an abundance of lethal weapons that could be openly carried alongside individuals who, thanks to their biology, were capable of shooting someone to death with just a wave of their hands or a point of their fingers. And even without those, there were warbeasts and other species naturally inclined to unarmed combat, who could likely survive a shot or 6 from a modern firearm before they even began to slow down or hesitate out of self-preservation.

And of course, above all else, if someone was willing to cheat in one aspect of life, that often meant there we were willing to cheat in other aspects of life.

Loid had long lost the moral standing to say that cheating was always bad and should never be done. But, regardless, with the chance he was given to save a lost, imperiled little girl from a fate worse than death, he was going to do his best to make sure that Anya was raised properly and grew up to be a good member of society with integrity.

Or, at the absolute bare minimum, Anya would have a childhood much better than Loid had.

Loid put down the legitimately shuffled deck on the table, came out of his thoughts, and returned to the present.

Teri whistled, impressed. “Those are some hands you’ve got, Mr. Forger! Almost felt like I was sitting at a casino for a moment.”

“Aye, that was quite the sight!” Rutger said, impressed and beaming. “Speaking of casinos, you ever happened to work at one before, or did you just deal for a lot of nobles and their guests as a servant?”

“The latter, Rutger,” Loid said. “As you might imagine, my lord and his guests rather prided themselves on their honor and the fairness of anyone’s victories or losses; so, they had a humble butler like myself deal as a show of good faith.”

“Were you particularly valued in the House you served, Mr. Forger?" Mrs. Mehra asked before she quietly thanked Yor for refilling her cup.

“Yes, I was considered quite the reliable servant,” Loid replied. “I was always assigned the worst messes that no one else could tackle or could not be trusted to tackle for fear of them failing.”

“Is Papa sure that they didn't just hate Papa by pushing all the really bad stuff on Papa?" Anya asked.

“The regularity and generosity of my paycheck, and how often my requests for assistance were granted said otherwise,” Loid said. “Or maybe I’m just lying to myself,” he said with a self-deprecating smile and a shrug.

Mrs. Mehra chuckled, putting a hand over her mouth again. “Deft hands, an eagerness to learn, a skill for tea brewing, and a sense of humor as well… ah, if Polly hadn’t already hired you and your wife, I would have been glad to have one or the both of you work at my tea shop instead.”

“I’m not particularly against moonlighting especially under such a skilled tea maker like yourself,” Loid said. “The bounty money from Ullgar is not going to last forever and the restaurant and your tea shop’s opening hours barely overlap.”

“I’m flattered but spare yourself the extra obligation, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Mehra said before she picked up her cup. “There are countless other people I could hire for extra help, but only you can be a father to your daughter while she is still so young. These precious days will fly by faster than you think they will,” she said with a wistful expression as she drank her tea.

“If you say so, Mrs. Mehra,” Loid said, nodding.

“Now then,” Mrs. Mehra said as she put down her cup and then pulled a single fioran from her purse. “Please deal us all in, I am ready to play once more.”

“With pleasure,” Loid said, picking up the deck and deftly tossing cards to everyone.

“Those must have been a lot of games you dealt for if you can do this like it's nothing and still get it perfect," Teo said.

“It is as Rutger’s father said,” Loid said. “Cards are just one of those universal pleasures, so few guests weren’t up for a game. Now, if everyone will please check their hands?”

Loid deliberately waited for everyone else first.

Mrs. Mehra, like before, simply lifted both cards up slightly before putting them down again, showing no particular reaction. “I’ve seen mine,” she said.

Rutger swept up his then laughed and grinned once again. “I’ve got mine! And I’m feeling much better than last time!”

Another bluff or did luck favor him in this game? Loid would soon have to find out.

But, what really concerned him was Teri. Her eyes widened and her head feathers rose as she saw her hand, and Teo leaning in and reacting in much the same way removed much doubt that this was just a bluff.

“I’ve seen mine,” Teri said, grinning as she picked them up and held them so Teo could see, just like earlier. “And I can already see myself winning back what Teo lost and then some.”

“Mr. Forger?” Rutger asked.

Loid picked up his hand and held them so Anya could see them, too. He easily managed to hide any semblance of external emotion as he thought, (This will be quite the gamble. But I'm playing for keeps, now.)

“Let’s begin,” Loid said, making a small smile at the others.

Then, he put on his best poker face once more.

Chapter Text

“I bet,” Loid said, putting down another coin in the pot.

“I call,” Mrs. Mehra said, doing the same with her usual calm expression.

“And I raise!” Teri said as she proudly smiled and put down two, instead.

“Already getting into the betting spirit and it isn’t even the flop yet! Hahahaha!” Rutger roared, smiling. “I guess I’ll call for now, as that must be quite the set of cards you have, Teri.”

“What can I say?” Teri said, smirking as Rutger put down two coins. "When you've got a good hand, you've got a good hand. The money Teo lost isn't going to get itself back without some risk-taking, too, and I plan to win this time," she said seriously.

“Is it really that much money to you two?” Yor asked, looking legitimately worried.

"No, no, it's just the principle of it, you know?" Teri asked as she looked over at her. "It's not the amount he lost, it's that that he lost it, and now I want to win it back for the both of us. Kind of how the Law of Equitable Exchange worked back at Mt. Telos.”

“May I ask you either of you to explain?” Loid asked, looking at the twins.

“Simply put, it says 'when you take, you give back as well,'" Teo said. "It's usually in the context of keeping our hunting and foraging at sustainable levels so we don't deplete or endanger any one resource or species and cause an ecological catastrophe."

“Oh?” Loid asked, fascinated.

"It's happened what happened to Mt. Telos a few times in the past," Teo continued. "We've only ever read about most of what happened since they were long before we ever hatched and are usually decades apart beside. But, the way they describe the devastation and the rippling effects is the sort of stuff that makes you think twice about harvesting or killing more than you should."

“We were also raised to take it as a guide for how to interact with people," Teri said. "You grab someone for a hunt on their day off, you give them the lion's share of the prey or part of your next haul. Someone loses a good chunk of the money from a bad deal or shenanigans, and that someone either loses some of their privileges, has to make up for it with extra work, or in the worst cases, both. It isn't strictly 1-1 and neither does the person who did the wrong have to make it right themselves.

“Some people are just too young, inexperienced, or unreliable to be able to fix certain types of problems, you know?” Teri said. She glanced at Teo and continued, “And sometimes, someone just gets really unlucky and you don’t want to bet on their odds twice in a row.”

Teo grumbled but again, he didn't raise much of a fuss otherwise.

“I see,” Loid said, nodding. “Thank you for explaining. It seems Mt. Telos is a place I’d want to visit after I become familiar with Port Illyria and the rest of the immediate region.”

“Let us take you there when you plan to go!" Teri said, smiling. "We can introduce you to Mother Tatiana, the priestess who raised us, and I'm sure Anya would have a blast playing with the kids there at the monastery. Maybe she could even learn to fly since we got a good chunk of people that know how to take to the skies with or without magic."

“Anya can learn how to fly?!” Anya cried, her eyes brightening up.

“Yeah, probably on the back of a flying monster or with a wing-glider with you strapped to your Papa or Mama by a harness, just to be safe," Teri said. "Still, going down a runway, launching off the edge, then catch a wind that launches you up into the sky and lets you see for kilometers all around…"

She sighed and made a nostalgic smile. “You’ll probably learn to love it as much as I do. Maybe you can even help us finally convince Rutger to come with," Teri said, turning to him.

"If I do, as soon as we land, you'll find me on or inside the mountain where the grills, smokehouses, and the mushroom wines and beers are,” Rutger said, shaking his head. “Then, I’ll leave it only once it’s time to fly back home here.”

“Does Mr. Rutger not like heights?” Anya asked.

“Aye, little lady,” Rutger said, looking at her. “The highest I’ll ever willingly go is up to the crow’s nest of a ship or up to the top of a lighthouse. Even then, that’s usually only in case of emergency or when there’s no other able body to spare. I know where I’m welcome, and it’s on solid ground, the deck of a ship, or in the water, nowhere else.”

“I take it you grew up in Port Illyria?” Loid asked.

“Aye, born and raised in Port Illyria, I am!” Rutger said, puffing up his chest in pride. “I stood on the deck of a ship since I could walk, know all the important seasons when ships, goods, and people come or leave in droves, and you can drop me anywhere in the city and I’ll be able to figure out where I am just by looking where the canals flow.

"Though, even though I'm legally a Lumanian citizen by birth, I hesitate to call myself Lumanian by blood, hahaha," he said, scratching the back of his head and smiling.

“What do you mean?" Yor asked, confused.

“Aye, well, both my parents were immigrants from elsewhere,” Rutger said. “Dada was a man who had to be at sea for most of the year or he’d start to take ill, and Port Illyria just happened to have the most favorable weather and bustle for him during his off-season. The ports where he was born and raised were never quite as lively, he says.

“And my mother was a”—Rutger stopped, quickly glanced at Anya, struggled to find words for a moment, then continued—“my mother was a worker in a business that served sailors like Dada.”

“So Mr. Rutger’s parents fell in love and got married?” Anya asked.

“Well, no," Rutger said, scratching the back of his head. "Rather, Dada got Mother pregnant with me by accident. Still, he wanted to take responsibility for his mistake and Mother decided she wanted to try and be a sailor's wife than continue working that job, so they decided to let me be born into the world."

“How is your mother, Rutger?” Loid butt in. “You’ve mentioned plenty of your father but never her.”

“Aah, well, Mother found she didn't quite like the life of a sailor's wife, home alone with a child and Dada being away for months at a time. Maybe she got sick of Port Illyria, as well. So, one day, while Dada was out to sea again, she handed me off at Port Illyria's Home for Sailors' Children and then left me and the city afterward. No one seemed to see her since, after all."

“So Mr. Rutger’s mother just left Mr. Rutger…?” Anya asked, confused, shocked, and bothered.

“Aye, and Dada wasn’t too surprised or heartbroken to hear the news after his ship made port at Illyria a few months later,” Rutger said, nodding. “He often worked as a navigator and was a damn good one at that, so you could say he could see the signs the marriage was on the rocks for a while now,” he said, chuckling.

“He didn’t feel too compelled to go looking for signs of where Mother had gone to, though, especially since the trail had gone cold and been swept clean by the seasons so long ago.”

“But what about Mr. Rutger?” Anya asked.

“I didn't miss Mother much, either, but I suppose it helped that many folks were all ready and happy to take her place loving and caring for me," Rutger said, shrugging. “The sailors of Port Illyria and their families welcomed me as one of their own since before I was born. If the Home didn’t exist, Dada would have arranged for one of his friends and their families to legally become my new family in case he bit it early.

“But, since the Home is around and the city pays well to keep it running, he didn’t have to worry,” Rutger said. “I actually had a den-mother much like Teri is now; her name is Ms. Nienna or ‘Momma Neena’ as the kids all call her and the ones that grew up still do.

“Last I stopped by to drop off gifts for St. Illumina Day, she’s still at it in her 70’s. Old gal’s going to outlive us all, I swear,” Rutger said, chuckling.

He stopped smiling and laughing as he noticed Anya frowning and looking sad. “Ms. Anya? Did I say something wrong?”

“Mmn,” Anya went, her eyes downcast.

Loid hugged her as he looked at Rutger and said, “I suppose you accidentally brought up memories of the time immediately after she lost her birth mother. It was… tumultuous for her until we finally found ourselves safe here in Reinesburg with the Paladias.”

“Ah, my apologies, then, little lady,” Rutger said. “Let me get you a drink to make up for it sometime—something non-alcoholic from the general store!” he added quickly.

“Anya wants peanuts more, Mr. Rutger,” Anya said, recovering a bit.

“Peanuts it is, then,” Rutger said. “Good thing I keep a stock of them myself as they go so well with beer.”

Anya smiled.

Loid did, as well, before he looked up at the others and said, “I think that might be enough conversation for now. Shall we continue the game?”

“Aye!” Rutger said, nodding. “Let’s get on with the flop, Mr. Forger!”

“Right away,” Loid said, letting go of Anya and reaching for the deck.

With professional speed and grace, he laid out three cards on the table before he flipped them over one by one.

As he did, he observed everyone’s reactions.

Rutger still seemed to be cheerful as usual with his near-perpetual grin, but he didn’t seem to have any particularly strong reactions or different tics that Loid hadn’t observed yet. Rutger’s emotions may have been incredibly easy to read on his face, due to both his size and his personality, but as Anya noticed, Rutger could easily hide bad cards and lack of confidence in his odds behind that sunny disposition.

Mrs. Mehra had her usual neutral expression. A perfect poker face? Or perhaps she was just naturally this calm and it gave her an edge in the game, much like how being tall would be a natural advantage in basketball.

She wasn’t totally disinterested in betting and winning big, since in the last game she had deliberately raised and let it go to showdown when she had a good hand. But, perhaps like Teo, her risk-taking tolerance depended on the strength of her cards and a bad or average pair would keep her from pushing her luck.

Meanwhile, Teri had the most interesting and noticeable reaction. Instead of her head feathers rising and smiling again, her eyes narrowed as she looked at the community cards, and then her hand before her lips curled slightly downward.

Teo leaned in to look at her cards and raised an eyebrow but said nothing, either because he didn’t want to sabotage his sister’s chance at victory or because he didn’t relish in her suffering as she did his.

They didn’t seem to notice Loid’s observing any of them, subtly as he did it… but, that couldn’t be said about Anya, who had an expression of intense focus.

“Is something wrong, Anya?” Yor said. “You’re looking really tense.”

“Ah…!” Anya cried, surprised and her focus broken.

“Does the little lady need to go powder her nose this time?” Rutger joked.

“Or perhaps she’s busy studying us to figure out how best to help her Papa win this game?” Mrs. Mehra said with a small smile.

Anya’s eyes went wide before she hung her head, caught red-handed.

“It seems like it…” Loid said, smiling sheepishly at the others. “Do any of you mind?”

Rutger laughed. “Not at all, Mr. Forger! In fact, I welcome it as a sign that we’re helping nurture the little lady’s interest in poker.”

“I don’t mind, either,” Teri said, laughing. “Come on, how old is she again, like 4, 5 years old?”

“4,” Loid said.

“4 years old!” Teri said, throwing her free hand up. “No offense, Anya, unless you’re some sort of card shark from the womb, I don’t think I’m too worried about you coaching your dad.”

“I don’t mind, either,” Mrs. Mehra said, smiling. “I’m keen to see how well she reads us,” she said, a small glint in her eyes.

Anya just smiled and nodded, like it was all still going according to her plan, whatever that was.

“If you all don’t mind if I consult her before we start the next betting round, then?” Loid said.

The others waved at him to continue or nodded their consent.

Loid turned his ear to Anya and she eagerly whispered, “Mr. Rutger feels like he’s got a good hand, but he could just be hoping he can lie to win this time. Mrs. Mehra doesn’t really care about her cards again but she doesn’t see her winning this time if she has to show them. Ms. Teri is worried but she’s going to keep raising because she’s got really strong cards and she really wants to win.”

Loid nodded. “Thank you, Anya,” he said before he turned back to his cards.

Nothing he could make a good hand out of yet, but there were still two community cards left. Perhaps the turn or the river would shift his luck. And of course, he had some help that was technically cheating but permitted by everyone else.

“Now then,” Loid said as he reached for his money pouch, pulled out two, and said, “I call.”

“I raise," Teri said, a serious look on her face as she pulled out three from the leather pouch and then dropped them on the pot.

“I call,” Mrs. Mehra said, dropping three without much fanfare.

“And I raise as well!" Rutger said, pulling out a handful from his pouch, and knocking off the excess, before dropping it into the pot.

“Man, Mr. Forger,” Teo said, bewildered, “I don’t know if it’s you specifically or just the fact that we’re playing with someone new, but I’ve never seen the table get this into bets and winning.”

“My wager is on Mr. Forger being him,” Rutger said. “You develop a gut sense when you’ve played at as many tables with as many folks as I have, and something about him just triggers a switch in me to get serious—in the good sense of the word!” he said, grinning.

“Did you play as much as you dealt, Mr. Forger?” Mrs. Mehra said, looking at him.

“Perhaps not exactly as much, but I have played at many tables,” Loid said. “It wasn’t for fun so much as necessity, though. Sometimes, this was the best way to approach and interact with someone who wouldn’t normally give me the time of day or the best way to acquire something I needed that I couldn’t buy with money or trade for.”

“That sounds like quite the stretch for what a butler is usually in charge of, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Mehra said calmly, her expression unchanged.

“As I said earlier," Loid said, "the biggest messes were oftentimes mine to clean up. And even my previous employer, for all their connections and wealth, were not all-powerful or had infinite funds. So, if I needed something beyond their capabilities, I had to figure out some way to get it myself."

“And what’s one of the most memorable or weirdest things you’ve had to win at a card game?” Teri asked, interested. “Not the usual boring stuff like rare bottles of wine or expensive tea leaves for a party, okay?”

Loid paused to consult his memories.

He had won countless interesting things in poker games, but the likes of “human organs being trafficked on the black market”, “documents involving state secrets”, and “blackmail on politicians” were going to arouse more suspicion and horror than he’d like.

Thankfully, there was no shortage of unusual valuables that players used to buy into a table or bet when they no longer had any cash to use.

“There was a collection of commemorative pictures to celebrate a popular theater starlet’s 3^rd year anniversary,” Loid said. “The publisher deliberately made it a limited run, knowing there was no price her hordes of loyal fans wouldn’t pay to get their hands on a copy. The demand and the price only shot up even further when there was a fire in the warehouse that destroyed most of the albums.”

A case of arson than an accident, Loid knew, but everyone was already interested enough so he didn't add that.

“When the fires were put out and the smoke cleared, there were only a sparse handful of copies undamaged or in any state to be sold at all," Loid said. "They were originally supposed to be given away by lottery, but after that, the publisher allegedly sold them at a secret auction just to recover from the damages, because the albums weren't the only things of worth in the warehouse."

“Oooh, mysterious!” Teri said, beaming and enraptured like Anya was. “Come on, what happened next? Don’t leave us in suspense, now.”

“I don’t know what happened with the investigation about the fire,” Loid lied, “but I do know that my previous employer wanted one of the surviving, untouched copies in their possession and tasked me with acquiring it for them.”

“For what, a personal collection?” Teo asked, confused.

“More of a ‘bartering chip’,” Loid replied. “That starlet I mentioned had the strongest, largest following in my home country, second only to its closest neighbor. If my previous employer were dealing with a foreign national, we could offer the album up to sway negotiations our way, with how valuable they’d become.”

“How much was one?” Anya asked.

“I don’t know how to convert it into fiorans...” Loid said. “But, let’s just say that it was probably worth a few modest noble’s country villas.”

Rutger whistled then laughed. “Quite the treasure, then! And you didn’t even need a map and dig it up from the ground first.”

“How did you manage to find the owner of a copy?” Mrs. Mehra asked. “Public as the fire must have been, I’d imagine that the lucky few who got them would have been secretive about their possession. I don’t think one would publicly advertise, even if the intent was to sell it for a king’s ransom.”

“My being a butler was the key,” Loid said. “I merely had to ask around the servants in the city how their masters were doing and what the latest overheard gossip was. After a while, I managed to learn which noble was a well-known fan of that starlet and was mysteriously quite happy despite losing his chance to win an album in the now-canceled lottery.

“I also learned the man had a fondness for high-stakes gambling as well as the performing arts. And he wasn’t quite the luckiest nor the most prompt in repaying his debts,” Loid said, smirking.

“Ho-ho,” Rutger said as he made a rumbling chuckle. “Quite the combination, that.”

“Indeed,” Loid said. “With some more digging and asking, I managed to catch him at one of the betting houses he hadn’t been banned at yet and bought in to play at his table, as well.”

“And they just let you?" Teo asked, surprised. "I mean, I realize you must have been from a noble family to be a butler, to begin with, but aren't there some sort of lines between them still? Small-time nobles can't rub shoulders with the big nobles, and all that?"

“There is,” Loid said. “But, it was the sort of establishment that let you buy into a table so long as you proved you had a large sack full of money and just as much willingness to part with it.”

“Was it worth three country villas?” Rutger asked.

“Not quite,” Loid said, smiling. “But it was enough for me to play and survive a few losses while I waited for that nobleman to build up a winning streak; then, my sources said, he’d start feeling both confident and reckless. And lucky for me, he happened to suffer a huge loss and had no more money to buy in.”

“So Papa made Mr. Noble Guy bet the pictures, instead?” Anya said.

“No, asking it outright would have been too suspicious,” Loid said, shaking his head. “But, thankfully, he didn’t have much else of worth to buy in, and he desperately wanted to win back his money than cut his losses. It helped that someone in that betting house seemed to know he owned the album and ‘politely suggested’ he use it to buy in.”

Because Loid leaked the information to that someone.

“And then you outplayed him and won it from him then?” Rutger asked, smiling.

Loid smiled sheepishly and shrugged in reply. “No, I just had a good set of cards then. Full House, if I remember right. I claimed my cash winnings, the album was delivered to my previous employer’s estate, and the next time I heard of it, they ended up being key to some important international negotiation.”

“What about?” Anya asked, excited for some reason.

Loid shrugged. “I wasn’t allowed to know. The diplomats and lords only took their secretaries inside. Us butlers and maids served them before the meeting, left the room while locking the door behind us, and then we came back in to clean up after the meeting was over.”

“And what about the nobleman you won the album from?” Mrs. Mehra asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I asked around and it seemed that he decided to abdicate his position to his brother, and then he entered a monastery to cleanse himself of his materialistic desires before it became the ruin of his entire family,” Loid said, smiling.

Mrs. Mehra chuckled. “I suppose it helped he had little worldly possessions to give up at that point.”

“Suppose it did,” Loid said, smiling as well. “Anyway, that’s it for that story. Shall we move onto the turn?”

Everyone agreed, Loid set down the 4^th community card, then he and Anya began to observe the other’s reactions, now that they had a hint of what sort of player Loid truly was.

Chapter Text

Rutger was looking more excited than before. He seemed to relish the idea of playing against an opponent who took poker as seriously as he did. As Rutger had said earlier, a switch was flipped inside him, Loid could see the gears turning double-time through Rutger’s eyes.

Mrs. Mehra, however subtly, seemed to have renewed interest in Loid, too. She wasn’t nearly as easy to read as Rutger was, but with her questioning the unusual aspects of Loid’s story and wanting to see how well Anya could read people, Loid guessed she wasn’t worried about falling victim to mind games and instead interested in how he and his daughter fared in playing them.

And Teri was, again, the second most obvious and most interesting response for Loid.

She started the game with full confidence in her cards and her victory. Now, however, she seemed to be having second thoughts about her previous plays for how she glanced at her cards and the ones on the table. Her features furrowed as she seemed to calculate the odds of her victory if it came to a showdown, and how much she could stand to wager still.

Fittingly, she felt much like a hunter who’d chased a new type of prey without thinking much about it, before finding themselves in deeper trouble than they'd expected. However, as Teri steeled her expression, it seemed that, unlike her brother, she wasn't one for throwing in the towel early and cutting her losses.

And with the way Teo sighed and occupied himself with a sandwich; it seemed he was keeping himself from telling his sister to do just that.

Pressuring Teri would have been an option for Loid if they were playing at a professional table with serious bets and none of the rules that kept the pot and bets low. The threat of titanic losses was such an incredibly easy and useful tool for stressing out players, cowing them, and causing them to start making mistakes or second-guessing themselves. Loid could even pressure Teri enough to fold, especially since she and Rutger were constantly forcing the bets higher and she could stand to lose even more than Teo had.

He might not rub it in Teri’s face but the potential damage to her ego could be threat enough on its own.

Then, Loid decided not to do that—not until he gauged everyone’s reaction with the 4^th community card.

Intimidating Teri and the others too badly could make them want to stop playing with Loid. And of course, if the money mattered, Loid could just win it all back and more at a later date or with a different table. Good relations with the neighbors were something he couldn't buy with money, and that's what he and Mrs. Paladia probably valued more.

So, he remained calm as he put a hand on the deck, put the 4^th card on the table, then looked at the others.

“Everyone ready?” Loid said, looking at Rutger first.

“Aye!” Rutger said, smiling.

“Reveal it at will, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Mehra said, nodding slightly.

Loid’s eyes turned to Teri.

She looked back at him before glancing down. Then, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, released her breath as she looked back up and said, “Alright. Show it to us, Mr. Forger.”

Loid flipped it.

It was useful for forming a combo with his cards, but even more so for telling how the others felt about their odds.

Rutger let out a rumbling sigh.

Mrs. Mehra glanced at the 4^th card for a moment before she picked up her teacup and quickly turned all her attention to it as if she'd already decided her next move.

Teri looked dismayed, her lips turning into a frown and her face wrinkling. It was brief, but she did not seem to have the best control over her body language, and the way she forced herself to relax and look untroubled was just as telling as the expression earlier.

Anya tugged at Loid’s coat, he let her whisper into her ear and let her confirm his suspicions.

“Mr. Rutger wants to keep playing but just plans to call this time, since Mr. Rutger thinks Mr. Rutger can’t bluff Papa easily. Mrs. Mehra is already going to fold because Mrs. Mehra doesn’t want to try to win anymore and the bets are getting high. Ms. Teri is really nervous and doesn't know what to think of Papa anymore.”

Loid nodded and turned his attention back to the rest of the table.

He caught Teri looking at them and her eyes darting away, he pretended not to notice.

Was she having second thoughts about letting Anya coach him and realizing just how effective a 4-year-old could be at poker? Or, more likely, was she just worried about Loid and realizing that she couldn’t read him or know what his playing habits or tells were like?

One thing was for sure: the less pressure and the more time he gave Teri to sort out her strategy, the less Loid could press the advantage of Teri’s doubts—or at least, without being suspected of deliberately, aggressively pressuring her into a loss.

So, casually as could be, like he didn’t think much of the game or his odds, Loid picked up four coins out of his pouch, put them on the table, and said,

“I call.”

Then, he calmly looked at Teri.

Was she like a deer in headlights? Or, given the twins’ specific subspecies of warbeast, a startled bird caught and unable to fly away? Whatever attempts Teri made at hiding her true emotions, it all fell apart then as everyone, even Yor, could see her startling and looking unsure of what to do.

This wasn’t a professional table.

Teri probably wouldn’t be forced to fold if she tested the patience of the dealer and the other players, and Loid had no intention of being impatient with her; it would be too obvious and he didn't want to harry someone over a casual game. He didn’t know all this table’s rules, exactly, but from the way everyone was just patiently waiting for Teri’s next action, it seemed they didn’t have a time limit or just a very generous one.

But, to Loid’s advantage, Teri’s pride would probably still be her undoing.

She composed herself, lost the startled look, but remained tense. She glanced at her cards, at the community cards, at Teo, then their shared money pouch. She reached for the money and seemed to ponder how much to take as Loid heard the sound of clinking coins being shuffled around for longer than needed. Then, with a determined expression, she pulled out her hand, carried the coins over in a tightly closed fist, then released them.

Clink-clink-clink-tink.

“Call,” Teri said with a sigh, some of the tension leaving her shoulders and her face.

Her money had been put into the pot, and if the table allowed players to have second guesses, Teri didn't seem to want to do it. She had made her decision and it seemed that, unlike Teo, she was planning to see it through to the end than consider changing course.

The others, however, didn’t feel the same.

“I fold,” Mrs. Mehra said, still holding her cup and leaving her cards where they sat on the table.

“Fold as well!” Rutger said, calmly putting down his cards before he rested his elbows on the table instead.

“You’re folding, Rutger?!” Teri asked, confused and surprised.

“Aye,” Rutger said, nodding. “It feels like this match is becoming a showdown between you and Mr. Forger, and I must confess: I’m more excited to see who comes out on top than the prospect of winning the pot myself,” he said, chuckling.

“Gah...” Teri groaned, looking uneasy as she glanced at Rutger, Mrs. Mehra, then finally, Loid.

Loid's expression remained neutral as always, giving her no hints about his emotions or his plan.

“I’d stop the smug look if I were you, little lady,” Rutger said. “It’s bad form during a game and we can’t tell for sure if your Papa has won just yet.”

Anya gasped, caught red-handed and embarrassed.

Assuming this continued when Anya was older and cognitively developed enough for emotional self-regulation, Loid considered teaching her techniques to better mask her feelings.

“Speaking of you, Anya...” Teri said. “You mind if you don’t coach your dad this last round?”

Anya looked surprised and then worried, glancing up at Loid, silently asking him what to do.

“I think we should give Ms. Telosmonte this, Anya,” Loid said, smiling.

Anya looked disappointed but she nodded. “Okay, Papa. Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Loid said, before he put his poker face back on, pulled the 5^th card from the deck, and put it down on the table.

Rutger was excited, giggling in anticipation as he picked up another sandwich; if they offered popcorn instead, Loid could have easily imagined him eating it by the fistful.

Mrs. Mehra was just calmly enjoying the last of her tea; if she was excited, she wasn’t showing it.

Both Telosmonte twins were nervous and uneasy now. Casual as the game was, a loss would still taste bitter, and with all Teri had wagered, it would probably taste bitterer still.

Anya seemed to be holding her breath in excitement, anxious to see what card would decide this match.

And in the corner of Loid’s eye, Yor was leaning in and looking eager to see how it would end, though not nearly as tense as the others.

Loid flipped the last card over and showed it.

Teri blinked before she immediately brightened up and put on a determined face. A ray of hope and a chance of victory, perhaps?

How would she feel, if she knew that Loid could also use that card to win?

He decided he wouldn’t keep the others in suspense, so he picked up five coins, dropped them in the pot, then said, “Raise,” he said.

Teri immediately started digging in her pouch and dropped six. “Raise as well,” she said, the fire and confidence from earlier returning, though her mouth was a hard line instead of a smile.

Anya gasped, probably from accidentally holding her breath for far longer than her little lungs could manage. “Who wins?” she asked between hurried gasps.

“We’ll find out,” Loid said as he put down his cards:

King of Spades and the 10 of Diamonds, to match with the King of Clubs and the 10 of Hearts on the table.

“Two Pair,” Loid said.

Teri saw it, her eyes widened in shock. She trembled for a moment she seemed to deflate, just like her brother when his loss was clear. “One pair,” she said as she listlessly dropped her cards face-up on the table:

King of Hearts and Queen of Spades.

“So Papa wins?” Anya asked.

“Yep,” Teri said as she pushed the pot his way. “Your Papa wins.”

Anya cheered and threw her little hands up.

“Thank you, Ms. Telosmonte,” Loid said as he started putting the money in his pouch. “And thank you as well, Anya, you were a great help.”

Anya giggled proudly as Loid patted her on the head with his other hand.

“So,” Teri said as she recovered somewhat, “what are you planning to do with your winnings, Mr. Forger?”

“I was thinking of buying more peanuts for Anya to help refill Mrs. Paladia’s pantry,” Loid said. “I could also use part of this to help treat my family to a nice meal at a different restaurant, perhaps your and your brother’s?”

Teri snorted and laughed. “Any time we’re open and the grills are all fired up, Mr. Forger. We’ll be happy to serve you.”

“I can help bring the beer!” Rutger said, beaming.

“Goodness! I hope this doesn’t mean you’re getting tired of my cooking already, Mr. Forger!”

Everyone turned to the stairs and saw Mrs. Paladia near the top, clutching the rail with both hands with her legs spread apart for stability.

“Mrs. Paladia!" Loid said as he picked up Anya and then stood up. "You could have yelled for us from upstairs to help you down, it looks like you're still having trouble moving."

“Sorry, wanted to prove I could still get her by myself; a former farmgirl’s pride, I suppose,” Mrs. Polly said, smiling apologetically.

“Do you want some help getting the rest of the way down and into a seat, Mrs. Polly?” Yor asked as she got up and came to the bottom of the stairs.

“That would be lovely, Yor,” Mrs. Polly said.

“I’m on my way!” Yor said as she quickly headed up.

“I can help!” Rutger said as he began to stand up. “An extra pair of strong hands ought to help.”

“No need, Rutger, I’ve got this!” Yor said before she came up to Mrs. Polly and asked, “Ready?”

“That I am,” Mrs. Polly said, holding out a hand.

Everyone watched as instead of taking Mrs. Polly’s hand and supporting her as she walked down the stairs, Yor instead swept her up into a princess carry.

“Well!” Mrs. Polly said as she blinked. “Not quite what I was expecting, but I don’t mind! Though, are you sure I’m not too heavy for you, Yor?”

“Not at all! You barely weigh anything to me, actually!” Yor said as she quickly and gracefully came down the stairs with Mrs. Polly.

“Mama could kick Mr. Ullgar several times in the head while Mr. Ullgar was charging right at Mama!” Anya called out. “Carrying a fat lady like Mrs. Polly is easy!”

“Anya!” Loid cried, shocked and embarrassed.

Mrs. Polly laughed and waved it off as Yor brought her to the dining area. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Mr. Forger, I’ll let it slide. She’s still so young and I don’t hold any delusions about how much I weigh.”

“If you say so, Mrs. Polly,” Loid said, sighing.

“Is Anya not supposed to say fat people are fat, Papa?” Anya asked, looking at him curiously.

“Well, how I was raised, you’re never supposed to bring up a lady’s weight to her face unless you’re her doctor or saying it very, very delicately and with great discretion,” Loid explained. “Mrs. Polly just happens not to mind, but don’t do that again to anyone else, as I don’t know how other people here in Port Illyria would react.”

“It’d be quite the mixed bag, as the city and its people always are,” Rutger cut in as he was now back in his seat. “For some folks, they’re proud to be large and thank you for noticing; others will give you the evil eye, start crying, or sock you in the mouth for having dared say it out loud. Best to just play it safe and not mention it until you know for sure how that particular person will react.”

“Okay!” Anya said, nodding.

Meanwhile, Yor had already carried Mrs. Polly to the poker table, Loid pulled out the seat he was using. “I believe this is your rightful place, Mrs. Paladia,” he said.

“I believe it is, thank you, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Polly said as Yor gently sat her down. “I was so dearly hoping I could play and catch up with the others soon. How’d your playing go, by the way? I couldn’t hear clearly from upstairs but the size of this pot is something else!”

“Aye, Mayari won the first game and Mr. Forger won the second,” Rutger said as he began to clean up the cards. “He’s quite the formidable poker player, I have to say! Could barely get a read on him, yet it seemed like he could tell everything about me.”

“Young Anya is quite skilled herself, as well,” Mrs. Mehra said. “We let her advise her father and it seemed she could peer into our minds, as well.”

“She was very helpful indeed," Loid said as he stacked his tea cup and plate with one hand and then brought it over to the table where Yor was sitting. "Let us get you a cup and a plate, Mrs. Paladia, both the tea and the sandwiches are excellent today."

“I’m on it!” Yor said as she hurried back to the kitchen.

“My!” Mrs. Polly said, delighted. “I haven’t been served like this in a while! Have to say I’m enjoying getting to be on the other side of the table.”

“We’ll always owe you for your kindness, Mrs. Paladia,” Loid said, nodding. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Oh, hush, Mr. Forger, you'll make this middle-aged woman think she's some kind of saint than just a good neighbor," Mrs. Paladia said, chuckling. "So, whose turn is it to deal?"

“Mrs. Mehra, if we’re going the usual route!” Rutger said as he got all the cards back in one deck. “Oh, and Mr. Forger! Before you go,” he said as he reached into his pants pockets and then pulled out a second worn pack of cards. "So you and the family have something to do while we play our game over here and don't need anything done."

“Thank you, Rutger,” Loid said. “Maybe I can teach Anya some other card games than poker.”

Preferably ones that don’t have an element of gambling and the associations with predatory debts, organized crime, and broken knee-caps.

“Yeah, Anya and Papa can play with Mama this time,” Anya said, beaming.

“Can it not be poker?” Yor called out as she returned from the kitchen with tableware for Mrs. Polly. “It seems like you have to be really smart and good at lying to do well at that game, I don’t think I’ll be very good at it or enjoy it.”

“I know plenty of other games that are much simpler than it, don’t worry, Yor,” Loid said.

Mrs. Polly was served tea and a sandwich before the table launched into cheerful conversation, catching up on people and family members Loid did not know well or hadn’t heard of yet, discussing past, ongoing, and future events that he knew nothing of, and of course, talking about how their businesses were doing with numbers, legal requirements, and gripes that he could not put into context or understand.

Maybe someday, when he and his family were in Reinesburg for much longer than 3 days, they could join that table and engage fully with the conversation.

But for now, Loid sat down with his wife and child and taught them how to play Old Maid

(And in the process, learned that Anya may have been a card shark from the womb, as she was frighteningly effective at picking just the right cards she needed and avoiding holding a Queen.)

Chapter Text

Eventually, the tea ran out, the sandwiches were all eaten up, and the neighbors had caught up on everything they wanted to hear or share with the others. The weekly poker game ended with Mrs. Mehra winning the last pot before Rutger cleaned up his cards one more time.

Loid also gave Rutger back his second deck while Yor cleared the tables.

“You sure you don’t want to keep it for a while?” Rutger asked. “I’m just next door and the little lady seems to have quite the hand and the fondness for them.”

“I’d really rather you take them back, Rutger,” Loid said, sighing. “I’m afraid if her ego inflates any more than it already has, I’ll never be able to get her back down to earth.”

Rutger glanced at the other table, where Anya sat positively beaming with pride and smugness. “Huh," he said as he turned back to Loid, "I see what you mean. Back to my desk drawer with both decks, then."

“Thank you, Rutger,” Loid said before he saw him and the rest of the guests out the door.

Loid had intended to lose constantly as he taught his family card games, giving the wins to Yor or Anya, and only playing seriously to remove the suspicion that his defeats were on purpose. Even still, Anya seemed to dominate almost every time, oftentimes beating Yor handily and giving Loid some of the most serious challenges to his skill, especially because he wasn’t expecting anywhere this level from Anya.

Anya's only weakness seemed to be any games involving speed and reflexes, as both Loid and Yor could recognize, pick up, and lay down cards much faster than Anya could, even while holding back to give her a fighting chance.

Loid was rather glad he literally held the family purse and they weren’t playing with substitutes like peanuts. Having real, tangible proof of how much Anya could win at card games could plant the seed of some very big potential problems once she grew up. Loid briefly imagined Anya becoming the neighborhood menace, constantly outplaying the other kids and even the adults for all their pocket change and other items like snacks and toys, all with nothing more than a standard, unmodified deck of playing cards and well-founded confidence in her skills.

Then, he stopped imagining it and vowed to never let it get to that point.

The only way he’d ever change his mind is if Anya ever ended up in the military, where betting games were a useful way to get what you needed when Logistics failed you. That, or if she became a professional full-time hunter, betting game skill seemed like it would be extremely useful there, too. But otherwise, he didn’t want his daughter earning resentment and losing friends for being a preschool card sharp, nor did he want to deal with angry parents and crying neighborhood children demanding she stops playing or give back her winnings.

Loid wanted to deal with normal parenting problems, like Anya unknowingly saying something hurtful, hitting another child in anger, or accidentally electrocuting someone.

(I already seem to be acclimating very well to this world,) Loid thought as he paused and realized just how naturally that last train of thought had run.

He got out of his head as he noticed someone stepping into the restaurant. Even though the sun was beginning to set outside, they weren’t opening tonight, which meant only one most likely candidate:

“Hello, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said, after a quick glance to check. “How was your trip to the gym?”

“Ugh, I think I overdid it after all...” Jack said as he rubbed his arms, walked slowly, and looked overall miserable and exhausted.

“Well, at least you’ve managed to make it home by yourself and it doesn’t seem like you’ve injured anything,” Loid said as he guided him to the table where Mrs. Polly was still sitting. “Here, have a seat with your mother; I’ll make you a roast beef sandwich, you look like you could use something hearty.”

“Thank you, Mr. Forger," Jack said as he eased himself into the seat, gripping the table with one hand and wincing all the while. "Just so you know, I'll probably need your and your wife's help with tomorrow morning's delivery, too, because if it hurts this bad now, I'm real scared to find out what it's going to feel like tomorrow morning."

“Tsk-tsk,” Mrs. Polly went as she gave her son a sympathetic look. “Jack, what possessed you to work yourself ragged like this?”

“It was my first time back in the gym in a long while, Mother,” Jack said, sighing. “I figured all the exercise I get waiting tables, cooking food, and bringing them in and out ought to make up for all the time I wasn’t lifting proper exercising weights. Seems like I was wrong…”

Just before Loid rounded the corner into the kitchen, he heard Mrs. Polly sigh and say, “It’s Uncle Pel and the Bull Roping competition all over again...”

Loid decided he wouldn’t pry as he entered the kitchen and found Yor already hard at work rinsing and scrubbing all the used tableware clean. “Do you need any help with that, Yor?” he asked. “I’ve found my magic is incredibly useful for washing dishes.”

“No need!” Yor said, looking back to smile at him. “It’s only so many things and none of them are soiled that badly, anyway. Did you need something, by the way?”

“Just a sandwich for Mr. Paladia now that he’s back from the gym,” Loid said. “I can make it myself.”

"Alright, I'll leave it to you!" Yor said as she returned to the sink. "I'd probably ruin the bread and slice the board if I tried to make it instead.”

In his previous life, Loid would have taken this as a comedic exaggeration. In this life, he was certain that Yor was speaking completely seriously.

And as he cut up what little was left of Rutger’s loaf and brought the Telosmonte twins’ roast beef out from the fridge, Loid considered investigating Yor’s lack of confidence in cooking.

Was she really just so uniquely ungifted in culinary arts, a consequence of statistical probability and how intimidating and complicated cooking could be to newbies? Did she never have the opportunity to learn properly back when she was growing up and without the guidance of parents or other older figures who could have taught her the right way to cook? Or was it a problem with the tools she had access to just not being fit for her hands?

Loid was lucky that this world’s spellslingers were so seamlessly analogous to modern firearms, aside from their many “firing modes” and non-lethal applications.

Maybe Yor just never had a knife that was both sharp and durable enough to withstand her incredible strength or was just too used to striking things full-force since that unrelenting strength was her best asset in combat. Kass might already be selling especially tough cooking tools for the more physically powerful species, like warbeasts and whatever Rutger was, and if not, she could probably be commissioned to forge one for Yor, or connect Loid to someone who could do it, instead.

He had an image in his head of him, Yor, Anya, and Mrs. Polly all together in the kitchen, trying to cook something together or teaching them how to do prep work, during a warm sunny afternoon when the restaurant wasn’t due to open.

Then, he imagined Yor trying to slice a bone-in pork cut with a cleaver and accidentally going clean through the meat, the bone, and a few centimeters into the wooden cutting board beneath it.

That knocked him out of his fantasizing and with the sandwich already finished, Loid decided to take it to Jack and get him a pitcher of cold water while he was at it. If Loid was going to ever help this business get out of its debt spiral, not one of them could fall sick or be unable to work their hardest from preventable circumstances.

“Here you go, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said as he served him. “Make sure to drink up as well.”

“Thanks, I will,” Jack said before he grunted and trembled as he tried to raise his arms to grab the sandwich.

Mrs. Polly and Loid both looked in concern, with Anya sensing the discomfort, too.

“… Do you need some help with that, Mr. Paladia?” Loid asked.

“Nope, no,” Jack said, still struggling. “It’s embarrassing as all get out if I have to ask to be fed just for going too far at the gym, I’ll handle this myself. Though, if you can spare some mana to soothe the aching a bit, that would be appreciated.”

“Oh!” Anya gasped. “Anya forgot to ask Papa about healing magic!”

“What’s this about healing magic, now?” Loid asked, glancing at her.

"I mentioned earlier that I'd appreciate it if one or both of you happen to learn some spells that can soothe my hip pain or Jack's sore muscles," Mrs. Polly explained. "It's nothing you or Anya need to learn since I hear it's plenty complicated stuff and you and Yor have more than earned your keep with us. But, well, I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't be plenty happy if there was always someone around who could just literally wave our pain away without costing us a fancy fioran in the process.”

“Anya knows Papa knows how to come back to life already!” Anya said, eagerly trying to be helpful.

“I think it's more like 'bring myself back from the brink of death,' Anya," Loid said. "And unfortunately, I don't know if I can do the same for others."

“Aww, why not?” Anya asked, confused. “Isn’t it just doing the same thing again, but for other people?”

“The ‘other people’ part is the problem, Anya,” Loid said. “If I’m casting something on myself, I know exactly where the pain is coming from, what the problem is, and can tell immediately if something is going wrong with the healing process or if I’m doing it correctly.

“If I’m doing it on someone else, though, especially if they can’t speak or can’t describe what’s happening well enough, I may end up causing a worse problem by trying to help them. I don’t want to try magically healing anyone until I’ve at least gotten a crash course in magical first aid from someone like Vahlen or Sister Tali. The only thing that would change my mind is if I can somehow read other people’s minds and tell exactly what they’re thinking and feeling.”

If Loid wasn’t mistaken, Anya seemed to brighten up for a moment before she seemed to come to some realization that dimmed her down just as quickly. Loid decided not to ask, especially as Yor came out from the kitchen and headed back to Anya’s table.

“Ultimately, I’m not against the idea, I just don’t think I have the time or a pressing reason to make it a priority,” Loid said.

“Yeah, I suppose your average day is busy enough already,” Jack said as he held his partially eaten sandwich with two trembling hands. “I’m kinda jealous, honestly. You seem to be able to get so much done in so little time, Mr. Forger, just like how Dad was.”

“It can be both a blessing and a curse, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said, smiling ruefully. “On the one hand, it is good to feel that you can tackle a multitude of tasks successfully and continue to do so again. On the other hand, other people and employers might start to expect you to always be able to handle that incredible load perfectly, no matter what.”

“Oh, stop making that face, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Polly said, giving a little wave. “Maybe your old boss was a real slave driver in nice clothes and with a fancy title, but I was raised in a farm that said ‘Nuts to that!’ on being busy for its own sake. You and your wife both have the rest of the day off, I’ll handle dinner! Especially now that my hip’s stopped hurting.”

“Hopefully, my arms will be ready for work then, too!” Jack said.

“Don't be afraid to ask for help, Mr. Paladia," Loid said. "We'll all be worse off if you have an accident if your overworked arms fail you."

Jack nodded.

“So what’s the plan with your evening, if you don’t mind me asking?” Mrs. Polly said. “It’s getting too late to go ask the neighbors to play or have a nice chat over tea, but it might be a tad too early to call it a night just yet.”

“Probably reading and learning how to raise Anya properly,” Loid said, glancing at the stack of books still resting on a table. “I’ve already finished one book, and I’ve got several more to go.”

“I’ll leave you to it!” Mrs. Polly said. “I’d say you’re doing just fine but then again, Jojo was just as involved with the kids, and we both agreed he’d handle all of Diana’s uniquely magical matters. There might be things I just don’t know to expect or handle.”

Mrs. Polly glanced over at Yor and Anya’s table, smiled, and continued, “Though, it looks like Yor’s eager to start trying herself.”

Loid glanced and he saw Yor and Anya playing a game of sorts.

Standing up in her seat, Anya would hold out her hands, focus her magic in them, and create a whirling ball of air, visible for the olive green hue they had.

Across her, Yor would wait for the ball to fully form before she slowly (for her, anyway) tried to swipe at it with her fingers.

Anya would try to move the ball out of the way but the way Yor kept breaking it or broke by itself probably meant Anya wasn’t doing very well.

Loid headed over as the two seemed to reset, Yor resting her hands on the table and Anya struggling to reform the ball.

“What are you two doing?” Loid asked as he pulled out a seat for himself.

“Agility and magic control training!” Yor replied, smiling at him. “The book said this was a great way to train how fast a mage can move their hands while not losing focus and control of their magic at the same time.”

“I take it you want to win at Slapjack next time, Anya?” Loid said.

“Mhmm!” Anya said as she continued to try and create a complete, stable ball in her palms. “Mama and Papa’s hands are fast! So Anya needs to become even faster!”

“How many times has she dodged so far?” Loid asked Yor.

“Going by the rules of the book, none,” Yor admitted quietly. “Maybe you can give her some tips about how to sustain magic for a long time? You were really good at gathering up the water from the stream when you blasted Ullgar to keep him still.”

“I can do one better and try and teach her about how to anticipate when you’re about to swipe at her ball, too,” Loid said. “Anya, would you like some advice now or would you like to try again first?”

“Try again!” Anya said, her voice strained but her smile eager. “Anya will do it right this time! Come on, Mama!”

“Okay!" Yor said with a smile before she slowly and visibly raised one hand.

Loid watched as Anya failed once more, but no one worried about it: they had plenty of time to train her to do better.

Dinner was lovely as usual, the dishes were washed and put away, the outer doors were locked over the swinging double doors, an exhausted and full Anya had been put to bed, and now Loid was on his way back down the stairs to his and Yor’s bedroom.

He should have barely thought of knocking and then going through the door, routine as this was going to be for the rest of their lives, but still, Loid hesitated for several seconds and stood outside, his heart rate and breathing rising slightly all the while.

(This is pathetic,) he thought to himself, scowling. (I swore to her that I’d be the perfect husband. I’ve pretended to be the perfect lover and serious boyfriend before, it’s not like I don’t have the experience of what to do. What’s wrong?)

Loid felt a voice in the corner of his head clear its throat, he recognized it as the same place where discomforting but necessary thoughts like, “This layout has been changed.”, “The code I was provided was wrong.”, and “This mission is not as described.” usually came from.

He decided not to stop and listen to it, instead knocking on the door. “Yor?” he asked softly. “May I come in?”

“Go ahead, Loid!” Yor called out from inside.

Loid opened the door and found her already in her sleepwear, sitting on the edge of the bed on her side, her bunny ears already oriented towards Loid before she turned the rest of her head to look at him.

(She was listening to or could hear me since earlier,) Loid immediately thought to himself.

And as if Yor could read his mind, she hesitated for a moment then asked, “Umm, is there something troubling you, Loid?”

“What makes you say that?” Loid said, putting on a bit of a deceptive smile.

“I could hear you coming down from the stairs and towards the door, then you stopped for a little under a minute before you knocked,” Yor said.

And faced with evidence that things weren’t alright, Loid decided to drop the facade.

“Sorry,” Yor said sheepishly. “It’s really quiet at this time of night and my ears are really good so I could hear you clearly even if I wasn’t trying to.”

(That’s unsurprising and also something to remember,) Loid thought. (I can step quieter than the human ear can detect but can I step quieter than a warbeast’s ears can hear?)

“Nothing to apologize about, Yor,” Loid said as he headed over to the dresser where his sleepwear was. “There was something on my mind but don’t worry, it’s not your fault and I can handle it on my own.”

Yor nodded, seemingly satisfied.

Loid looked away to start taking off his jacket and put it on the hanger provided.

“Do you still want to talk about it?” Yor asked.

That gave Loid pause.

Getting other people to talk was usually his goal while avoiding saying anything substantial about himself, in turn. Information was power, after all, and there was no taking knowledge away from someone short of death, drugs, or severe brain damage.

But, that was the mindset when he was still a spy.

He was just a normal, average man with a wife and a child now. Even his magical powers and combat prowess didn’t make him especially strange in the eyes of the world. And more importantly, he promised that he’d be a good husband to Yor, and bottling up his feelings and being unwilling to share even with his spouse was one of those hallmarks of a bad marriage. (He should know, he had turned countless disgruntled wives to his side by giving them a sympathetic ear for their frustrations about their husbands.)

So, after a moment of thinking it over, Loid looked over his shoulder to Yor and said, “Let me get changed into my nightgown first then we can talk.”

Chapter Text

Loid took a bit of time changing into his nightclothes and storing his suit inside their closet. It gave him a few moments to collect his thoughts and examine what was the root of his hesitation and unease to be alone with his new wife. Ironically, reading and understanding other people would have been an easier task, as so much of his life as Twilight was all about burying that authentic self in favor of the identity the mission needed to be.

Now, he had to break down the walls that compartmentalized his mind, dig through the rubble, and build an authentic, open, honest man with what remained.

Unfortunately, though, such a process could not be finished in fewer than 5 minutes by yourself and with the gentle pressure of a wife who was patiently waiting for you to come to bed and tell her all about your problems.

(No matter,) Loid thought as he finished changing. (I suppose I'll find out how much I can share with Yor and what's better left to others or a professional therapist.)

He approached Yor on her side of the bed and asked, “May I sit down with you?”

“Mm,” Yor said as she scooted over closer to the headboard, giving Loid plenty of room to sit down.

Loid debated taking advantage of the space and sitting down with some distance between them. Then, he decided against it and sat down close to Yor. Not to the range that their knees would easily touch with even the slightest movement, but still more intimate than strangers should be. It was the sort of distance that a married couple should be at and Loid swore he would learn to be comfortable with it.

But, as Yor tensed up a bit, Loid wondered if he was going too far, too soon.

“Should I not have sat so close to you?” he asked as he looked at Yor.

She was blushing. Heart rate probably increasing, too. While she fiddled with her hands in front of her chest, Yor said, "No, no, it's okay… it's just, I can smell you much more strongly now when we’re this close.”

“You can smell me?” Loid asked, confused.

“It’s your scent,” Yor replied. “Normally, it’s mixed in with everything and everyone else’s so it isn’t really that strong, but now, umm, now that you’re right beside me and you’ve been in the room for a while now…” she trailed off before she bashfully looked away with her ears drooping in embarrassment, as well.

(Ah, it’s my scent,) Loid thought to himself before he realized just how little that explained Yor’s behavior and how lost he still was.

Loid was no stranger to using cologne, perfume, and other scented products. Some targets just happened to better like a man that smelled like their brand of choice or otherwise fit with their scent preferences. He was also used to foregoing them entirely and cultivating his “natural scent”, like that time he had to infiltrate a commune of “alternative lifestyle activists.”

But, what did this mean with Yor?

Was this a personal preference where she just happened to rather enjoy scents? A part of warbeast culture, because of her naturally highly sensitive nose and how important scents would be to them, as it was with wild animals? Or was it something entirely different, like how she didn’t like how Loid smelled usually and found it offensive to her nose, especially in close proximity with nothing else to distract her?

From knowing absolutely everything he could about a woman he intended to seduce before he even said “Hello.”, Loid found himself struggling to understand even the most simple and innocuous of comments.

Loid groaned to himself and supposed this was just going to be his life now. Never mind that he couldn’t be effortlessly smooth and charming all the time with an identity he was going to live with 24/7. From the start, he wasn’t seducing Yor for some ulterior motive or external goal, he was going to be romancing her to be the best husband he could be.

And with that, he looked at Yor and calmly asked, “I’m sorry, do you find my scent unpleasant? I think I can use Mist Wash to remove it or at least weaken it.”

“Oh, no, no!” Yor said, looking back up at Loid with her ears straightening up again. “It’s not that I don’t like it! You smell really good, actually!” Then, she turned red again and began to gradually look away once more as she added, “It’s just, umm, when I smell you and only you this strongly, it kind of, ah, reminds me of last night when we had sex for the first time...”

Loid blinked. “Ah,” he said.

Yes, memories of that would be quite distracting indeed.

“I’m sorry, I was asking you about what’s wrong and offering to talk about them, and now we’re just talking about my smelling you,” Yor said, flustered.

“You don’t need to beat yourself up over it, Yor,” Loid said, putting a hand on her thigh and giving her a smile. “You can’t really help how your body reacts to certain stimuli. More importantly...”

He tried to gently squeeze Yor’s thigh.

He could feel the incredibly tensely packed muscle there tensing up till it was rock-hard to the touch, so he stopped. Then, Yor relaxed and put her hand on top of Loid’s, keeping it there as she before bashfully looked him in the eyes and asked,

“Umm… are you sure you want to do this first?”

“Yes,” Loid said, nodding. “I don’t think you can listen to me properly if you’re flustered and distracted from arousal. That aside: I’m your husband, I should be helping you take care of your needs, too.”

Yor looked unsure, she glanced down between their joined hands on her thigh then back up at Loid’s face.

“We can talk about my problem later,” Loid continued. “I think I could use this bit of distraction, as well, to release some of the tension in me.”

“Umm… if you say so,” Yor said, her lips curling up into a little nervous smile.

“Is there anything you’d like me to do to you, Yor?” Loid said, lowering his tone a bit.

“Umm, well, I’m really new to this and all of what you had done already is really good…” Yor started. “But, if you want me to pick someplace to start...”

Loid felt Yor grabbing the hand Loid had on her thigh. He did not resist her firm, strong grip as she moved it further up and inward.

“I, um, really like the way your hands feel on my legs, especially when you get really close between them but don’t really touch me down there,” Yor murmured, her voice weakening near the end as her cheeks turned redder.

(Endearing and enticing both,) Loid thought.

And without the need to suppress his feelings or any hint of genuine desire toward his partner, Loid let his emotions run as they were as he started to slowly stroke Yor’s inner thigh through the silky material of her clothes.

Yor shook slightly and let out a little pleased whimper, and as she turned to face him, Loid could see a familiar fire growing in her crimson eyes, as well.

And as she closed those eyes and hesitantly leaned in with lips puckered, Loid did not keep her waiting.

About half an hour later, Yor was laying on her back, breathing a little hard, part of her legs hanging over the edge of the bed, and the bottom of her nightgown pulled up and bunched up around her stomach. Loid sat up beside her, using a modified, tinier version of Mist Wash to clean up themselves and the new stain on the linens before anything dried and set.

“Do you need a glass of water or a snack, perhaps?” Loid asked after he finished.

“No…” Yor said between small pants. “I’m fine… and I feel I can listen to you now without getting distracted now. Just, uh, let me pull my clothes back down...” she said as she quietly shimmied and tugged at her dress.

Loid found his eyes drawn back to Yor’s exposed long, muscular thighs, the same ones that he’d been lavishing very intimate attention on earlier. He blushed, quietly nodded, then looked away; the time for either of them to be aroused was over.

Soon, Yor was now sitting up beside Loid with her nightgown back in place, she looked at him and asked, “So, what’s the matter, Loid?”

“I suppose it’s because I never thought I’d have anything like this,” Loid said. “‘This’ being a peaceful, happy family life, with a wife, a child, and neighbors, doing mundane things like most any other citizen would.”

“I see...” Yor said, nodding before she suddenly stopped and looked confused. “But why would you think that? Did your old boss forbid you from marrying anyone or starting a family of your own?”

“No, not explicitly," Loid said, shaking his head. "But, they didn't really recommend it, either. So much time and energy went into my usual duties, and I was also so frequently assigned urgent emergencies and tasks. I never really found myself having that much time or motivation to want to try to have a family.

“I thought I’d just continue working for the rest of my life, solving whatever problems my previous employers threw at me, doing everything I could to keep peace and order in my House, so my employers and everyone else could live their lives smoothly and without ever even needing to know there even was a problem, to begin with.

“At the most, they’d just know someone else had already solved it so it wasn’t worth knowing about.”

Yor gradually looked concerned. “Was it like that for all the servants where you came from? It sounds like once you start working, your entire life is just going to be about working.”

“No, far from it,” Loid said, shaking his head. “But, I was one of the best, and to be the best, it had to be like you don’t even exist while everyone else goes through their days.

“You only appear whenever there is work that needs doing, and then you disappear again once everything is as it should be or the crisis is averted. There would often be no thanks, no recognition from others, and probably nothing is ever written about you since you were just doing your job.

“And I lived my life up till now living up to that high standard. I wavered only slightly when I met Anya’s mother and she was born soon after, and then…” Loid stopped and looked down.

He could see the ever more outrageous and panicked headlines in the newspapers, once cynical attention-grabbing exaggeration to sell more copies, now becoming more and more accurate reports on how quickly and catastrophically the situation was deteriorating as the “Cold” War saw massive fires igniting everywhere, all over the globe.

He could hear the news reports, of Ostanian broadcasters breaking from the sanctioned propaganda to get the truth out even if it meant them being cut off and escorted offset by increasingly visible Secret Police, never to be seen again. Of the illegal broadcasts and underground publications run by citizens and Westalian spies both trying to get the people the truth of the matter. Of the dire air in the meetings inside WISE’s headquarters and safehouses, before they started to be abandoned, destroyed, or called off due to the increasing danger of meeting in person.

He could feel that sense of grave unease when he went outside into Berlint’s streets that fateful day to buy groceries and other necessary supplies with other nervous citizens trying to go through what semblance was left of their daily lives. The terror that had swept through them when the plane-shaped shadows left the cover of the many clouds that overcast day. The blinding fiery explosion then the searing pain of the shrapnel that quickly tore into his flesh and guaranteed his agonizing death.

Then, he realized that Yor was holding one of the hands Loid was resting on the bed, she was looking at him with a face of sadness and sympathy.

“You don’t need to talk about it,” Yor said gently. “I mean, if I had something like that in my missing memories, I would skip getting it back if I had the choice.”

“Thank you,” Loid said quietly.

He would be doing no such forgetting, no repressing these memories and banishing them to a secure corner of his mind where he’d rarely find or see them ever again, especially when he had sworn to break all those walls down.

But, he would be moving on from them regardless, now that he had a new world, a second chance at life, and a new family to protect.

“To get back to my problem..." Loid said. "After everything that happened in my old home, I'm suddenly forced to flee to a new country that may as well be an entirely new world to me.

"Everything and everyone I knew, loved, and feared is so far away now it may as well no longer exist. I'm no longer a servant bound by his loyalty to his employer and his country. I have Anya to take care of full-time now. We have a new home and new neighbors, and now we have you, too, Yor.

“And now that I’ve finally been able to stop long enough to think about it and you’ve offered to help me talk through it, I have to ask: do I deserve to have any of this?”

Does someone with so much blood on his hands, crimes to his name, and ruined lives in his wake deserve a peaceful, mundane life afterward?

Did whatever divine power give him this second life and these magical powers to reward him despite the morality of all his actions, or had he just not met the equivalent of WISE in this world, someone who would task him with protecting it and dirtying his hands once more?

Does a liar like him deserve to have the genuine affections of a family and neighbors who’ll never know his dark past, an innocent child that could not even begin to comprehend what a monster her father was, and a wife who was willing to listen to him but would never know all he could and should have told her?

Loid stopped as he felt a strong pair of arms wrap around his side suddenly. Loid tensed up for a moment… and remained tense as he felt his ribs being compressed and the air rapidly being pressed out of his lungs.

“Tight… too tight!” Loid gasped.

“Huh? Oh, sorry!” Yor cried, loosening her grip immediately. “I’m sorry, it just looked like you were lost in your head again and I thought you could really use a hug to bring you back!”

“I don’t mind the hug; I appreciate it, honestly” Loid groaned, rubbing the sections Yor had hugged and icing them with his magic. "But, perhaps we should figure out how much of your strength I can safely handle first.”

Yor nodded. “Yeah, I think we're lucky your ribs aren't as easy to break as my little brother's ribs when we were kids.”

“Maybe I should ask Mr. Paladia if I can join him at the gym and how Mr. Savanwood bulked up and handles physical affections from his wife,” Loid muttered, looking down with a thoughtful expression.

“Can I join, too?” Yor asked. “Maybe we can bring Anya as well, and make it a whole family activity. She seems to really want to be strong like us, too, and hunt monsters alongside us.”

“Yes, it would be good to have you both with me,” Loid said, nodding. “If there’s someone I’d trust to join me in paired exercises or spot me while weightlifting, it’d be you, Yor.”

“I’ll try not to bend or snap any of the equipment!” Yor said cheerfully.

Loid chuckled at that before once again, he realized it was probably not a comedic exaggeration in the slightest.

The lighthearted moment passed, and their smiles gradually returned to more neutral expressions as they realized the problem wasn’t quite solved.

“So, umm… do you feel any better now?” Yor said, toying with her fingers again. “I mean, aside from my crushing your ribs from the hug.”

“Yes, except for the rib-crushing part," Loid said, nodding. "Though, I still don't have an answer if I deserve any of this."

“Honestly, I don’t really get what you mean by ‘deserving’ a happy family life, Loid,” Yor said. “I don’t think anyone should have to prove themselves to be worth love or have someone that loves them. And I don’t think you’re the kind of man that would be hard to love or have a hard time finding someone to love him—the opposite, really.”

“Forgive me if I don’t take that last part as very reassuring, Yor,” Loid said, frowning a little. “I’ve learned well from being a butler that getting people to like you is not some innate trait or a sign of a good heart, but a skill you can hone to the point that you can charm anyone despite your personal feelings. Love is an entirely different matter.”

Because it meant being vulnerable, open, and above all else, honest to yourself and to the others you were making a connection right.

“But you still love Anya and Anya loves you back, right?” Yor asked.

“Yes, unquestionably,” Loid said seriously.

He'd only had her for 3 days but he had killed several times for her, humanoid and beast, and would do it again in a heartbeat.

“And you still love me—or, I mean, you could fall in love with me, right…?” Yor said, sounding unsure.

Loid looked at her.

Yor’s ears had drooped again, she was fidgeting with her fingers more, and her eyes darted slightly away when she noticed her looking at him. Then, she sheepishly tried to look back at his face.

Loid suppressed the trained instinct to reply “Yes.” and remove all doubt in Yor. Instead, he took a moment to think about what she said and process his feelings, without the repression, intellectualize, and deception of his spy training. Then, he looked at Yor, held her hand, and looked her in the eyes as he said,

“Yes, Yor, I do love you and if I don’t already, I could most certainly fall in love with you,” Loid said. “I’m glad you’re here with me and Anya both as my wife and her new mother.”

Yor blinked, her eyes widening before they trembled and glistened with tears. “Oh, Loid...” she whispered.

There was suddenly a tension in the air, a heated energy coursing through the both of them, and one that couldn’t be ignored without it festering into frustration instead. So, Loid asked:

“May I kiss you?”

“Please,” Yor said before she closed her eyes once more.

And once again, Loid did not keep her waiting.

The previous kiss was more passionate and sexual, just an extra angle of stimulation and pleasure alongside Loid’s hands quickly learning and confirming what parts of Yor’s thighs were best receptive to what sort of touch or gesture.

This kiss was more romantic, to break that building tension between them, feel the heat of the other’s lips on their own, the electricity coursing down their spines and the heat from their skin touching the other.

The tension broke, but the rest of the sensations lingered as they broke away from each other, and now they were suddenly embarrassed and unable to look at each other.

“Umm, Loid,” Yor said, looking to the side with her ears flopping in embarrassment yet again, “is it normal to be this embarrassed after kissing your husband? I mean, we've already had sex two times, right? This feels weird..."

“Well, where I come from, sex and sexual contact is usually seen as the most intimate that a couple can be, but I’ve seen that people can have extremely different views on sex!” Loid said quickly. “I’ve met some people that think very little of having sex with others and think of intimacy and romantic as something separate from it.”

“So you’d be one of those people, I guess?” Yor asked.

“I—“ Loid blinked and furrowed his brow, running it over inside his head. "I don’t really know anymore. Maybe we should just finally get to sleep and get back to it in the morning.”

“That sounds good,” Yor said.

“Excuse me, I’ll just take some Regeneration Tonic,” Loid said as he got up off Yor’s side of the bed.

Yor nodded before she reached out to stop him and said, “Oh, um, I have some questions before you do, Loid! If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Yes, what is it?” Loid asked, turning back to look at her.

“Why do you never refer to Anya’s mother by her name? Is it, umm, too painful for you to say it out loud?” Yor asked.

“It’s more that I don’t know which of her many names I’m supposed to use,” Loid said, shrugging. “She was a woman of many identities who preferred we meet in secret and in the quiet hours of the night, and probably not just because she was umbran.

“I always suspected she was involved in something in the shadows, but she kept it separate enough from me and Anya that I never thought it was worth prying into or worrying about. Even more so now that she's passed and we're a world away from our old life and everything we knew."

Yor nodded. “So is it the same deal with the name of the country you came from?” she asked.

Loid sighed. “No, in that case, I don’t think it even exists anymore.”

“Oh...” Yor said, her ears and expression falling. “Okay, I get it. Thank you for answering, that must have been difficult for you.”

“You’re welcome,” Loid said before he headed over to the end table on his side.

Loid opened the cabinet, drank a cap of the Regeneration Tonic he’d bought from the general store, then laid down with Yor and prepared to fall asleep.

… Then, he felt Yor hesitantly touching his shoulder and shaking him awake. “Umm, Loid?” she asked.

“Yes?” he said as he opened his eyes again. “Is something wrong?”

Bashfully, Yor said, "Umm, I'm sorry to have to ask this again, especially since we've already done it once tonight, but--”

Loid calmly put a finger to her lips, shushing her. “Say no more,” he said with a little smile. “I’m ready and willing.”

Yor smiled and sighed happily as Loid pulled his finger back. “Thank you. Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone until I met you, either...”

“To be fair, this relationship seems to be something of a learning experience for the both of us,” Loid said, beginning to sit up.

Then, Yor reached out to his chest and stopped him. “Umm, can you do something with us facing each other this time? I want to see your face and I can smell you better that way.”

“Of course,” Loid said, laying back down.

Intimacy and vulnerability, he most certainly had plenty to work on, but pleasing a woman sexually, he knew he could do very well, especially with his new wife.

Chapter Text

Morning came to the Paladia household.

Jack was sitting down on a chair in front of a dresser while Mrs. Polly stood beside him and helped him get changed, while his arms were too sore to do much of anything.

“There,” Mrs. Polly said as she finished buttoning up Jack’s shirt then adjusted it slightly around his shoulders.

“Thank you, Mother,” Jack said.

“Don’t thank me yet!” Mrs. Polly said as she grabbed a hairbrush nearby. “We’ve got to do something about that bed hair...”

“Mother, please!” Jack whined. “It was already enough that you got me changed, you don’t need to do my hair, too!”

“Oh, but yes, I do, young man! And now I'm wondering what happened to all those years of manners lessons, now that you think it's alright for you to step out of this room with your head looking like this!" Mrs. Polly said as she brushed with smooth, agile, confident strokes despite the worn, gnarled, and calloused appearance of her hands. "At least your father had the excuse that his hair naturally went every which way and there wasn't much anyone could do about it."

Jack sighed. “Fine...” he muttered, defeated.

A few moments later, Jack’s hair was fixed, Mrs. Polly put down the brush, then leaned down to admire his reflection in the mirror.

“There,” Mrs. Polly said with a smile, “now you’re ready to go out into the world again, Jack.”

“Even if I just plan to go jogging around the block while my arms heal?” Jack asked.

“Hey, you’ll never know when might need to look good!” Mrs. Polly said, smiling. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll run into someone new that you’ll want to make a good first impression with,” she said, more quietly, the smile turning hesitant but hopeful.

Jack sighed. “Mother, I”--he stopped, debated it for a moment, then said--“maybe, yeah...”

“Not quite the spirit but you can still get there, at least,” Mrs. Polly said, nodding. “Now come on, those arms of yours aren’t healing without plenty of good food in you. I’ll go and get breakfast ready.”

“Yes, Mother,” Jack said as he got up using his legs.

Mrs. Polly opened the door for him, they stepped out just in time to see the Forgers already preparing to go downstairs themselves. And, more importantly, Yor was carrying Anya and Mr. Chimera in one arm, while the other was around Loid’s waist to help support him as he clung to her.

“Goodness, Mr. Forger,” Mrs. Polly said, touching the side of her face. “Did you hurt something last night? It looks like your legs are barely keeping themselves up, let alone all of you, what happened?”

“Mama and Papa had sex again, and now Papa can't walk," Anya replied matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Polly snorted in amusement before she pressed her hand over her mouth, instead. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed, but you have to admit: with Jack’s arms being too sore to move, this a really funny coincidence.”

Loid sighed. “I’m sure I’ll be able to laugh about it with you one of these days, Mrs. Paladia, just not today.”

“Alright, I’ll just go downstairs and get breakfast ready,” Mrs. Polly said, nodding. “Jack, you going to able to get down on your own?”

“I will, Mother, don’t worry about me,” Jack said.

“Then I hope you’re all feeling up for some roast beef hash!” Mrs. Polly said, humming pleasantly to herself as she descended the stairs.

“Say, Mr. Paladia, may I ask you a question first?” Loid asked.

“Uh, sure, what is it?” Jack replied.

“This gym in town, does it have a membership fee, and also, does it have any facilities for mages to train their skills, young ones especially?”

“No, it’s a public project so it’s free for everyone to use but some of the trainers charge for their services, and yes, they do have equipment that mages of all ages can use to train their magical and physical skills both,” Jack said. “If we’re talking really advanced spellcasting, though, like, ah, stuff you learn in specialized mage divisions in the military, you’re going to have to talk to the Temple of the Dark Mother. That sort of stuff gets way more expensive, complicated to maintain, and valuable than anything you’d want sitting around in a public place, free for anyone and everyone to use.”

“I see, thank you, Mr. Paladia, that’s very helpful to know,” Loid said, nodding.

“You thinking of training Anya’s magic and building up her strength before she’s old enough for regular school, Mr. Forger?” Jack asked.

“That, and I want to try to make myself stronger so I’m closer to matching Yor’s strength, or at least, be better able to handle it,” Loid replied.

Jack glanced at Yor, then at Loid, down to his weakened legs, then back up to Loid’s face. “I see,” he said. “Good luck with that. Have you considered talking to Mr. Savanwood, too? He’s there often with Mr. Vahlen because they’re gym buddies.”

“I have already, and that’s very useful to know,” Loid said. “Thank you for your answers, Mr. Paladia.”

“You’re welcome,” Jack said. “Ah, do you guys want to head down first?” he said, stiffly gesturing down the stairs. “I feel like you shouldn’t be standing up for too long while you’re, ah, like this.”

“We probably should, thank you for your consideration, Mr. Paladia,” Loid said. “Yor?”

“On it. Pardon us,” Yor said with a sheepish smile as they moved past him.

“See you later, Mr. Jack!” Anya said, waving with her free arm.

Jack lingered on the second floor so he wouldn't crowd the stairs before his eyes wandered to the guest room door. “I know the house is rated against magical tremors, wind, and electricity, but does that count for warbeasts as well…?” he muttered to himself.

Loid and Yor both heard him perfectly fine with their finely tuned senses of hearing but chose to ignore him, for now.

Eventually, everyone was downstairs, Loid and Anya sitting down at a table, Yor helping Mrs. Polly in the kitchen, and Jack was outside taking a walk to get some sunshine and fresh air while he stretched his arms.

With the brief moment of relative privacy, Loid turned to Anya, gestured for her to keep it down, then quietly asked, “Anya, what do you know about your mother? Not Yor, to be clear, your birth mother, your First Mama.”

“Oh, Anya doesn't know anything about Anya's First Mama," Anya said. "Anya was alone with the Bad People for as long as Anya can remember. Even the Bad People don't know anything about Anya's First Mama or First Papa, not that Anya thinks the Bad People ever cared."

“I see,” Loid said, nodding.

Tragic and regrettable, but it was going to be useful for their cover.

“Does Papa want Anya to lie about not knowing anything about Anya’s First Mama, so no one knows Papa isn’t actually Anya’s First Papa?” Anya asked.

“Yes, exactly,” Loid said, nodding. “That’s what Papa wants Anya to tell anyone that asks about her First Mama, okay? And if they press any further, you can say that it hurts to remember and you don’t want to try to remember that time in your life.”

“Okay,” Anya said, nodding back. “Anya doesn’t want to remember that time in Anya’s life, anyway. Anya only wants to remember Anya's time with Papa and Mama now."

Loid felt a surge of warm affection and deep sadness, so he decided to pat Anya on the head and smile at her. “I hope we’ll have many, many more years of those yet, Anya.”

Anya smiled and beamed at him, giggling.

Satisfied that their cover was still safe, Loid just enjoyed the ambiance of the sun pouring in through the windows, the sights and sounds of their street going about a normal Thursday morning, and the cool, soothing sensation of focusing his magic into his legs and feeling the pain ebb away and the strength gradually return to them.

(Thank goodness for magic and whatever power decided to give me access to it, as well,) Loid thought.

Mrs. Polly and Yor were soon out with the food, plates, and mugs, the latter effortlessly carrying the bulk of the weight.

“Breakfast is served!" Mrs. Polly said as she put down a potholder and a large pan full of beef hash topped with several fried eggs. "Come and get it while it's piping hot, this is when they're at their best. That aside, Mr. Forger, I've got a feeling you'll want to be full and overflowing with energy for whatever is coming your family's way today. They all ever seem to want to come knocking first thing!"

“Thank you, Mrs. Paladia, but I feel you exaggerate a little,” Loid said as the plates were laid out and cups of coffee and a hot chocolate for Anya were set out. “We’re only starting our 4^th day here, perhaps things will start calming down now.”

“I’d think again, Forger!”

Everyone turned to the doors and found Gazyl holding them open for Jack.

“Word just reached the Garrison,” Gazyl continued as they entered, “the City Guard is ready to pick up Yor and she’s going to be part of the morning block of arraignments at the Halls of Justice.

“Al and Old Man Ibroix are already at City Hall coordinating everything you’re going to need to get into Port Illyria smoothly and more importantly, make sure your first installment of Ullgar’s bounty money is ready to be used for Yor’s bail, just like we planned.”

Loid nodded. “How long do you think we have till they get here?”

“About an hour or two,” Gazyl replied. “It’ll take some time for the city to round up a secure barge that won’t sink under the weight of all that money and guards to make sure no one tries to rob you guys, so”--Gazyl pulled out a chair for Jack then got one for himself--”can I sit in for another meal?”

Gazyl made an expression that Loid could only really describe as "a smug cat's smile when it knows it's about to get fed", especially with the wagging tail behind him.

And unsurprisingly, Mrs. Polly would be the kind older lady that was happy to oblige. “Of course, you can, Gazyl. Good thing I’m starting to get back into the habit of making extra portions per head, now that I’m feeding two magia again”

“Yeah, real good thing,” Gazyl said, already licking his lips.

Yor chuckled. “I’ll go get another plate and a coffee for you, Gazyl,” said as she headed back to the kitchen.

“Thanks, Yor, appreciate it,” Gazyl said, nodding at her.

“Now, back to the subject of Yor’s arraignment,” Loid said as Mrs. Polly started lading out beef hash and eggs. “Do you happen to have any advice for how we can make this go as smoothly as possible, Gazyl?”

“Why are you asking me? Do I look like the type of guy that’d be that intimately familiar with Port Illyria’s court system from the perspective of the accused?” Gazyl asked, wide-eyed and confused.

Then, he dropped the act immediately and said, “Aah, just kidding you! Until Al gets here, I am most definitely your man to ask for advice about trying to get out of jail. Do you want me to add the 'reduced sentence bargaining' plan or just stick to posting her bail and keeping her out of jail, to begin with?"

“The latter, please, Gazyl," Loid said flatly. "The former sounds like it's much too expensive for me to afford right now since we'll likely need a criminal defense lawyer."

“Got it," Gazyl said, nodding once. "Anyway, it's really simple:

“Just have Yor look as non-threatening as possible; be polite and follow all of the judges’ and the guards’ orders; don’t yell or complain about how unfair it is that she’s being charged with a crime, or that she’s innocent contrary to the evidence, or that the City Guard are jerks and idiots for arresting her and putting her before a judge in the first place; and—this is the most important part—unless a court official or a lawyer is specifically asking you to talk, leave all the talking to Al and whoever your lawyer is going to be.

“As Reinesburg’s Guard Captain, both in legal terms and public perception, Al is the most qualified source to talk about the details of Yor’s manufacturing Numbing Death, why she did it, what happened after, and why she’s guilty, but it still wouldn’t be fair for her to be charged and we should let you post bail as her husband.”

“Wouldn’t it help if I try to speak up and explain myself, too?" Yor asked as she returned from the kitchen as if she had been following the conversation the entire time.

“No," Gazyl said, shaking his head, "because honestly, Yor, I don't think you've got the sort of speech skills that will let you talk your way out of this. We can't tap Forger's skills, either, because as well as you two have been getting along, it's barely been 2 days and Forger married you after you did the crime and needed someone to give you an out.

“Not exactly a good look, so far as juries are concerned,” Gazyl said as Yor set his plate and coffee before him.

“You’re new to the city and the legal system, Yor,” Gazyl continued as he picked up his coffee and waved his hand over it, sucking up the excess heat and vapor with his magic. “You make one slight misstep, then it’s blood in the water for any prosecutor looking to add another successful conviction to their record. Even more so when it’s as memorable as a case of someone illegally producing and almost getting someone killed with Numbing Death.”

“Oh..." Yor said as she sat down before her waiting plate. "Can I try to fight them off when they attack me or will that just make things much worse for us?"

“No, don’t fight them, because yes, it will make things much, much, much worse for us," Gazyl said before he sipped his coffee. His ears twitched rapidly before they relaxed and he continued, "The point of the Halls of Justice is that you argue cases with words, reason, and evidence, so physical violence is frowned upon. And I doubt we can argue to make this a Trial by Combat instead and move it to the arena since this feels like a 'Port Illyria V. Yor Forger' case."

“While we’re on the subject of prosecution, Gazyl,” Loid said as he speared some potatoes on his fork. “Is there any particular reason that we should be worried about the prosecutors being biased toward a conviction?”

“Yeah, optics in the court of public opinion,” Gazyl replied as he broke the yolk on his egg. “Either for their careers or for whoever they’re working under, it’s generally better to have a high case/conviction ratio, assuming they don’t start getting overturned for mistrials or are clouded by corruption allegations.

"It's especially bad this year, since 'Tough on Crime' is coming back into vogue. For now, folks love hearing news that another criminal has been foiled by the City Guard or charged and imprisoned at the Halls of Justice,” he said as he scooped up some yolk-covered bits of egg and beef into his mouth.

"Is that why Mr. Fitzroy wanted to get Papa arrested when Anya and Papa first got here?" Anya asked with egg yolk smeared all over her mouth

“Probably not,” Gazyl said, shaking his head. “Fitzroy is just a jerk who likes to flaunt the power that Colwyn gives him as his ‘liaison officer’.” Gazyl swallowed then continued, “I swear, the man takes a sick pleasure in making people squirm and fear him, even if he has to have goons behind him to do the dirty work.”

“Why just ‘probably’?” Loid asked, frowning.

“Because I wouldn’t put it past Fitzroy or Colwyn to have some connections who would be happy to boost their conviction numbers, especially if they happen to be referred to cases that aren't a priority and aren't likely to face much scrutiny from oversight," Gazyl said he picked up his coffee. "Let's just hope that the prosecution in Yor's case isn't one of those guys. Though having the bail money ready to post, in cash, ought to help plenty despite that.

“If there's one thing even the most selfish and conceited criminals and corrupt officials won't do, it would be denying Port Illyria's Ministry of Justice its money," Gazyl said, punctuating it with a drink from his mug.

Loid sighed. “I suppose some things just don’t change between nations...” he said, shaking his head before he returned to his food.

“That’s just how the world is and probably will be in our lifetimes,” Gazyl said, shrugging. “Anyway, let’s lighten the mood and talk plans after we get Yor free. You got anything you want to be doing while we’re in the city, Forger?”

“I'd like to open a bank account and put whatever of the bounty money is left, and make it easier for Lord Colwyn to pay me the rest of it and also use it to pay for large purchases," Loid said as he picked up his mug. "Maybe we could stay here with the Paladias for the rest of our lives, but we might eventually need to buy a house or lease an apartment, and I’d like to have good credit so our options aren’t limited.”

Gazyl stared at Loid, blinked, then said, “Okay, let me rephrase that: is there anything fun you want to do while we’re in the city?

“You can’t have just picked Port Illyria because it seemed like the safest place to run to and raise your kid. There had to be more to your decision than ‘Oh, the weather sure seems nice in that part of the world!’, right?”

“Perhaps a library would be great,” Loid said, mulling it over his coffee. “I’d like to learn more about Port Illyria and all its many peoples, and it’d be good to teach Anya that, too, since she’ll be spending the rest of her childhood here in Reinesburg and over there. I don’t plan to run anymore now that we’ve found a new home for ourselves.”

Anya nodded in agreement.

Gazyl still looked unimpressed. “Yor?” he asked as he turned to her. “You got anything fun you want to do in the city?”

“Well, I would have asked about the arena so I can still keep my skills sharp while I’m working as a waitress for Mrs. Polly, but I don’t think there’s much fighting I can do while my knives are still with Kass,” Yor said. “I might just shatter and break anything less durable than them, and that’ll both be expensive and a potential danger to me and whoever I’m trying to use it on.”

Gazyl nodded sympathetically. “So any other past times that don’t involve you inflicting violence?”

Yor shrugged her shoulders. “Hunting, cleaning, and exercising was how I passed the time before, I think,” she said.

Gazyl sighed. “Should have figured as much, in hindsight...” he muttered before he turned to Anya. “Kid? Got anything you want to do at the city?”

Anya paused in the middle of taking another bite of her hash before she threw her utensils skyward and cried, “Anya wants to get peanuts!”

Gazyl inhaled and then slowly let it out through his nostrils. “We’ll get you some peanuts after your Mama’s free, Anya.”

“Yay!” Anya cried before she returned to her food with renewed gusto.

“I suppose you can scarcely go wrong with exploring the city’s food scene...” Gazyl muttered. “But seriously, have you guys no other hobbies except studying or fighting? I mean, I’m a homeless monster-hunter and even then I spend a good chunk of my money on entertainment for its own sake.”

Loid shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it ‘hobbies’, exactly, but my previous employer always encouraged me to hone a wide variety of skills and specialized knowledge, so I was scarce without something to occupy my time and provide intellectual stimulation. My usual work scarcely gave me free time to use, anyway.”

“I don’t think me and my brother had enough money to spare for that, outside of special occasions,” Yor said. “I remember putting a lot of our money into my brother’s education; the job he wanted put him through this series of super difficult tests.

“I may just be misremembering, but I feel like the examiners were always watching us, looking for a moment when either of us might make a mistake.”

Gazyl nodded. “So was he applying to be a bureaucrat for some important ministry or something?” he asked as he scooped up some more beef hash. “Can’t think of much else that would have needed that much studying and an exam that looks at your whole family, too.”

“Maybe?” Yor said, shrugging. “I do remember he passed and was really happy he got the job. He got us both dinner and me a huge flower bouquet to celebrate since it paid really well from the start."

“Good on him," Gazyl said. "Anyway, it looks like I need to teach you what's good around Port Illyria. Not that there's nothing fun here in Reinesburg, but it'd be a waste if you guys never experienced all the city has to offer."

Loid nodded.

He wasn’t a spy anymore, he was a family man with a generous employer who gave him free time, room, and board. Even if it wasn’t a mission with the fate of the world at risk, he was going to make sure to relearn how to enjoy himself and spend his free time like a normal person.

And so breakfast passed leisurely after, Gazyl talking about the city's many forms of entertainment before they cleaned up the table and themselves in preparation for the court appearance.

Eventually, a barge floated in on the canal outside and blew its horn. A megaphone crackled to life and they heard:

“This is the Port Illyria City Guard. We have a warrant of arrest for Mrs. Yolanda Forger, nee Briar. If you are she, please stay where you are and wait patiently for us to come to you. We strongly advise you not to attempt to leave, hide, or fight, or we may be compelled to use force.”

Gazyl was the first to get up and stretch. "Mmm, looks like it's go-time, guys. Forger, you sure want to keep your weapons here? You can always deposit them at the Halls of Justice before the arraignment but I doubt you can just warp them into your hands if we run into trouble on the streets.”

“I think I should,” Loid said. “Gazyl, could you run upstairs and get it from the locker in the guest room?”

“Sure," Gazyl said. "You want to be here to watch the arrest go down, make sure the kid understands what's going on and doesn't panic?" he said, glancing at Anya as she nervously clutched Mr. Chimera.

“Yes, and also I think I’ll take too much time since my legs haven’t fully recovered yet,” Loid admitted.

“Your legs haven’t…?” Gazyl started before he noticed Yor suddenly blushing and looking down. “Ah. Alright, alright, can’t be helped.”

As he left, Loid looked at his family and said, “Are you ready?”

Anya nodded. “Anya’s ready.”

“I’m ready to face the music, too,” Yor said seriously. “Or is it supposed to be the song?”

“I believe it’s music, Yor,” Loid said.

"Whichever one it is, just make sure all of you get back here free and safe, alright?” Mrs. Polly said. “I don’t mind if you don’t bring back souvenirs this time.”

“We will, Mrs. Polly,” Loid said.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Polly said. “We’ll whip them up something special when they come home, won’t we, Jack?”

“Yes, we will, Mother,” Jack said.

Then, they all watched a mix of Port Illyria City Guards and Reinseburg Town Guards walk up to the doors…

Chapter Text

The arrest was far more civil than many of the ones Loid had been witness to, especially prominent because the charge was such a dire crime in Port Illyria’s eyes. Then again, Loid was scarcely a witness to an arrest if it didn't involve impersonating the police or trying to actively stop them from taking the suspect into custody.

Perhaps it helped that Yor had taken Gazyl’s advice to heart and readily offered up her wrists when the cuffs came out.

Perhaps it also helped that Aleina was among them, both as the commanding officer of Reinesburg’s Guard and a close friend or a well-known collaborator for the City Guard. They casually used first names or slang for ranks like “Cap” or “Sarge,” which lent credence to the theory.

And perhaps it was also because, no matter how hard the City Guard was supposed to be on crime thanks to their superiors wanting to curry favor in the public eye, they were still humanoids with hearts. They didn’t want a woman old enough to be their mother and a girl that was old enough to be their youngest child as witnesses to police brutality against a non-resisting, compliant suspect, her incredible capacity for violence be damned.

Whatever the case, Yor was calmly and smoothly escorted out of the restaurant by two armed guards with their weapons still sheathed, no hands on her, and trusting her to walk where they told her to.

Then, Loid, Gazyl, and Anya were told to follow after her, one of them explicitly saying, “We’re not leaving you three behind.”

Loid was holding Anya’s hand as they walked, while Anya’s other arm clutched Mr. Chimera. As they began to near the boat docked outside, Loid felt Anya tighten her grip on his palm and saw Mr. Chimera’s stuffing start to shift from how tightly she squeezed.

“It’s going to be okay, Anya,” Loid said quietly. “We’re all going to make sure Mama’s not going to go to prison.”

“Mmm,” Anya replied.

If she could read the doubts in his head, like usual, it seems she didn’t want to voice them out loud.

They neared the gangplank, a City Guard was standing there with a box strapped to her chest. “Weapons check,” she said as her companions brought Yor up. “Please stand still.”

Yor did, tensing up as the inspector patted her down and found nothing amiss.

“She’s clear, please proceed,” the inspector said, stepping aside.

Yor relaxed and her escorts brought her onto the boat.

The inspector stepped back in front of the gangplank as Gazyl approached. “Weapons to declare?” she asked.

“24 enchanted throwing knives,” Gazyl said, pulling aside his cloak to reveal the straps with all his knives sheathed in them, turning around and twisting his limbs as necessary.

The inspector patted him down for anything else, found none, and said, “License to carry?”

“Right here,” Gazyl said, pulling a card out from his pocket.

The inspector pressed it against a device strapped to her wrist, its light glowed green, she handed Gazyl’s card back to him before stepping aside. “You’re clear to board.”

“Thanks,” Gazyl said, before looking back and nodding at Loid.

Loid nodded back, Gazyl boarded, and the inspector went back into position.

“Mr. Forger, was it?” the inspector asked as Loid approached.

“Yes, I am him,” Loid said, nodding.

“Capt. Aleina has already submitted your permit and license to carry ahead of time,” the inspector said. “So long as you are carrying one enchanted blade, one spellslinger, and nothing else as promised, you’re free to board.”

“Then please, feel free to make sure,” Loid said, letting go of Anya’s hand and holding them up.

The inspector had him unsheathe both weapons, show their magazines were unloaded, then had Loid open all the other containers of his belt with his remaining potions before she finally patted him down.

“Everything’s completely in order,” the inspector said, nodding. “Also, Mr. Forger: since you’re new to Port Illyria, can I offer you a friendly word of advice?”

“I’m listening,” Loid said.

“Please be careful about brandishing these weapons or openly advertising that they're genuine Blackbell Arms," the inspector said. "I don't mean to say I think you're stupid or reckless enough to pull them out on a whim and possibly hurt someone. But, weapons of this quality and brand reputation are stolen as often as expensive-looking jewelry, especially when the thieves can confirm they're authentic and not one of the many counterfeits floating around."

Loid nodded. “I see. Thank you for the advice, I’ll keep a good eye on them.”

“You’re welcome,” the inspector said, nodding. “Now then: Mr. Forger, may I search your daughter?”

“You may,” Loid said before he turned to Anya. “Anya, follow what the Guard Lady says, okay? Papa will be here to make sure that nothing bad happens to you.”

“Your Papa’s right, little girl,” the inspector said as she squatted and smiled at Anya. “I’m just going to make sure that you’re not bringing in anything you’re not supposed to, okay?”

“Okay...” Anya said, meekly stepping forward.

“Your friend, what’s their name?” the inspector asked, pointing.

“Mr. Chimera,” Anya said.

“May I borrow Mr. Chimera for a moment and make sure he can come aboard with you too?” the inspector asked, holding out her palm.

Anya looked at Loid. Loid nodded, Anya looked back to the inspector and reluctantly handed Mr. Chimera over.

“Thank you,” the inspector said.

She pulled out what resembled a metal detecting wand from Loid’s previous life, though whatever it was supposed to detect and how it worked was beyond him. The inspector slowly moved it up and down both sides of Mr. Chimera, and there was no sound but the quiet beeps it made while turned on.

Satisfied, the inspector gave Mr. Chimera back to Anya.

Anya grabbed him with both hands and clutched him tightly.

“Can you turn out your pockets for me?” the inspector asked her.

Anya did, one by one. There was nothing but old peanut shells and lint.

“Okay, it seems like you’re clear to board with your Papa,” the inspector said as she stood back up.

“Thank you, Miss,” Papa said. “Anya, say thank you, as well.”

“Thank you, Guard Lady,” Anya said.

“No problem,” the inspector said, stepping aside and waving them through.

Loid took Anya’s hand again, they boarded the ship and the other guards standing outside gestured them to enter an open door on the deckhouse. Inside was a table where the others were already seated, except for Yor who was behind bars in a nearby cell. Next to it, Loid couldn't help but notice there was an even more secure jail cell with his chest full of money inside.

Yor just seemed to have a physical lock, a monitor with a light to show if the door was open or closed, and the guards casually glancing at her every now and again to see if she was behaving, which she was.

Meanwhile, the chest had two dedicated guards before it, what looked like mines or some sort of motion sensors on the inside, and a cage-like lock over the lid which wasn’t there before and that glowed the same color as Aleina’s eyes.

(Port Illyria never hesitates to show where their priorities lie,) Loid thought to himself as he and Anya took the seats closest to Yor.

“Is Mama okay?” Anya asked as she turned around in her seat to look.

“I’m alright, Anya,” Yor said, raising her shackled hands and waving. “The City Guards have been really nice and said I could ask for things I might need, like water.”

“We’ll make sure to treat her right, little girl,” said a City Guard with a shinier badge, decorative pins, and a cap that the others didn’t have. “Otherwise, Capt. Aleina will never let me live it down for the rest of my life. And if you doubt she’ll go that far, just ask me about my Pappous!” they said before they laughed.

Aleina just gave a satisfied nod.

“Thank you, that’s very reassuring,” Loid said. “Also, pardon me, but I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet. I’m Loid Forger, Yor’s husband, as you might already know. You would be?” he asked as he reached across the table.

“Io of Ouranos,” Io said, taking Loid’s hand and shaking briefly. “I’m a Sergeant with the Port Illyria City Guard, but since I’ll be heading this crew and vessel for today, you can call me ‘Captain Io’ instead.”

“As you wish, Captain Io,” Loid said.

Io beamed, Aleina groaned.

“Don’t inflate their ego too much, Mr. Forger,” Aleina said. “They’re so used to being at high altitudes, they will never notice until it’s too late for us to get them back down.”

“Aww, can’t you let me have this moment at least, Captain?” Io whined.

“Not when you’re supposed to be the one we trust to keep this ship, its crew, its passengers, and its cargo safe and afloat, Captain,” Aleina shot back. “If this were a pleasure cruise, fine, but there’s a very real risk we’ll be an attractive target to any boarders who want to take their chances.”

“Oh, yes, because we’re loudly, proudly advertising that we’ve got little over 1.5 million Fiorans on board and we were only put together earlier this morning so our potential attackers would have”--Io pulled up their sleeve and checked their wrist-watch--”about 3 hours to prepare an ambush.”

“Surely, who couldn’t craft the perfect plan and gather everything needed to execute it flawlessly with that much time to prepare?” Gazyl added, smirking.

“Oh shut it, the both of you,” Aleina grumbled, rubbing her temple with one hand.

“You seem really stressed out, Captain Aleina,” Yor called out from her cell. “Is my case really that important?”

“Anya thinks it’s probably everything else Captain Lady is thinking about,” Anya said.

Aleina sighed and looked at Anya. “That obvious to you, huh?”

“She is rather perceptive like that,” Loid said. “Anyway, considering it’ll be some time before we even reach the city, would you like to get some of off that weight off your chest? Provided you can talk about it, at least.”

“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Forger, and since Lord Colwyn will be paying dearly to advertise it everywhere in the coming weeks, I can talk about it,” Aleina replied. “The gist of it is, Reinesburg is planning to have a major expansion, building new permanent sections of the wall and districts to fill them in. For now, he’s planning on industrial zones and taking on excessive manufacturing load from Port Illyria and other regions.

“But, after that, he wants to have the full set of zoning by the middle of this year—commercial districts, residential areas, mixed-use, and special districts. Among other milestones, he’s hoping Reinesburg might now be large and notable enough for a Hunter’s Guild branch office, research laboratories affiliated with the University, and a base or a training facility for the Port Illyria Navy.”

“I don’t know how important most of those are, exactly, but they seem like really big, expensive projects!” Yor said.

“Because they are,” Aleina said, turning to her. “I’m sure Reinesburg feels big to a lot of you from all the people you’ve met and seen just walking around at any moment, but compared to Port Illyria or Lulurun Valley, Reinesburg is tiny.”

“How tiny?” Anya asked.

“Think of ole Reinesburg as just large enough to be on most maps but too small for most people to care about, Kid,” Gazyl added. “Ask around in Port Illyria and I’d bet a good chunk of them don’t even know the place exists.”

“Right?” Io added. “If my family weren’t all in the City Guard, we probably wouldn’t know or bother to ever come here. Maybe if friends invited us over or if we had family here, which we don’t.”

“So Mr. Colwyn is trying to make Reinseburg bigger?” Anya said.

“Both in terms of physical size and reputation, yes, Ms. Anya,” Aleina said, nodding.

“But why now, of all times?” Loid said, troubled. “I can’t imagine it would just be him wanting to recoup the cost of paying me Ullgar’s bounty. This feels like a multi-year project that will necessitate even more spending and lending just to get anything started, let alone keep it operating until it starts beginning to turn a profit some years from now—assuming it ever turns a profit.”

“And you’d be right, Mr. Forger,” Aleina said. “The money is a huge factor, as it always is, but Lord Colwyn is even more so motivated by something he can’t buy: time.”

“Oh, is he dying from some terminal illness?” Yor asked.

Gazyl snorted. “Hah! I wish! That would be great!”

Aleina glared at him. Then, she calmed down, turned back to the Forgers, and said, “Lord Colwyn is feeling intense pressure from the other nobles in town to retire.

“His heir, Mr. Cyrillo, has long been of age, married, and has a son of his own who’s turning 1 this year. Most nobles would have already long retired by now; if you and your family hadn’t come along, Mr. Forger, we might have seen Lord Colwyn resign himself to just passing down his position quietly and going down in history as a lord who kept the town running smoothly until he handed it over to his heir.”

“So now he wants both a chance to cement a more glorious legacy and justify keeping himself in power for a few years longer?” Loid asked.

“Precisely," Aleina said, nodding. "And of course, for Lord Colwyn to guarantee all the outside investors and new residents he needs to make this giant plan a success, he needs Reinesburg to be exceptionally safe. 'Acceptable' levels of risk are no longer going to cut it."

“So you’re going to need to kill more monsters from now on, is that what’s the problem?” Yor asked.

“It’s just one of them,” Aleina said, sighing. “Aside from lowering the Monster Threat Level even further, the Guard has to:

“Make sure all the hunters that are going to be flocking to Reinesburg soon are behaving, don’t break any laws, and don’t terrorize the locals;

“Do background checks and screenings for all the people that are coming after them, like traders, construction workers, medical professionals, scientists, and entertainers;

“And then hold recruitment drives so we have even the bare minimum of heads to keep everything from descending to chaos.

“I'm not overseeing all of these at once by myself, but if something goes horribly wrong or one of my subordinates screws up badly, my head's also going to be on the chopping block," Aleina said.

She sighed, crossed her arms, and added, "And I'm not even going to go into Lord Colwyn's crazy plan to make especially sure that people come swarming into Reinseburg..."

“Is Mr. Colwyn going to pay hunters to kill Named monsters, too?" Anya offered.

“Bingo, kid!” Gazyl said, pointing at her. “On paper, it’s not really that crazy of an idea:

“Even without the Fame Factor, the magic core and the body parts from a Named are worth a pretty penny to researchers, craftsmen, and collectors alike. And even if we weren’t going to sell their parts off at a premium, with the local ecosystem’s apex predators of apex predators gone, weaker monsters are going to flourish, and there’s going to be a need to control their numbers and harvest their parts, hence, yet more hunters being lured to Reinesburg.”

“But of course, this all counts on most of those Named being successfully taken down, if not all of them, which is where it becomes a serious gamble and a full-on migraine for me,” Aleina said, scowling.

Gazyl nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, there’s always the possibility we’ll have another Ullgar, something so dangerous and infamous it discourages Named seekers from trying to take it down, and scare off the other hunters because they don’t want to run to risk running into it themselves.”

“And if that doesn’t happen, there’s also just ruining your town’s peace, the local economy, and your reputation,” Io added. “Named seekers tend to be a very demanding bunch with expensive tastes, both in their equipment and what they can do outside the hunt. If they don’t get what they want when they want it, you can bet they’ll be speaking to telling all their friends about how bad Reinesburg is, and the other hunters might start thinking the same.”

“Wow,” Yor said, uneasy with her ears drooping. “This all sounds so complicated. I can feel my head starting to hurt from just thinking about what that must involve, and I don’t think I know what even half of it would be.”

“Paperwork, Mrs. Forger,” Aleina said, sighing. “It’s mostly lots and lots of paperwork but that doesn’t make it any less stressful.”

“Gah, let’s change topics! Captain’s orders, no more about paperwork!” Io said, shaking their head.

“Alright, Captain Io!” Gazyl said, smirking and shrugging. “So, Forger, Yor, since we can bet on Reinesburg having a whole lot of well-paying hunting jobs in the future, can I count on any of you joining me again in the wilds? Al's hunting ban on me ought to end by the time this Hunting Fest starts if she isn't forced to rescind it earlier.

“The very first days to weeks tend to be shorthanded all around, so you get to pick and choose your jobs, and have some pretty sweet power to decide your terms and compensation. I'd be fine taking the lesser paying, safer jobs if the kid wants to come along, and get some more experience on the field without having to be hiding up in a tree," Gazyl said, leaning over the table to look at Anya better.

Loid realized that Gazyl was trying to rope Anya into supporting his argument, so he was especially upset that he could do nothing about it as it was already too late:

Anya's eyes lit up before she turned to Loid eagerly and said, “Anya wants to go hunting with Gazyl, Mama, and Papa!!”

“We can take the Savanwoods, their kids, and everyone else you’ve met in town, too, like Vahlen and Na-bi,” Gazyl said. “I’m pretty sure Na-bi will be through the roof once she realizes there’s going to be so much demand for monster observers all across Reinesburg’s wilderness.

“Maybe we’ll even see a rare monster or a new Named for the first time and Anya will be able to help tell everyone all about it...” Gazyl said, his smug smile growing even wider.

Anya began to shake with excitement as the tantalizing prospect got even more tempting.

Loid suppressed a scowl and a glare, because of how upset he was to be outwitted by a homeless cat-man and have his daughter turned against him, too.

“I’d really like all that, actually,” Yor said. “I’ve been kind of nervous around other folks because I’m always thinking about if I’m doing something wrong or being rude without realizing it. I’ve never been good at social stuff, so I think I'd feel much more comfortable if we're doing something I’m very familiar with, like killing things for money!”

Loid turned to look at Yor.

Yor had a hopeful, small smile, her eyes shining with hope like Anya if not as intense. Even for the distance and the bars obscuring part of her face, Loid found a warmth blossoming inside him, himself reflexively stamping it out, then struggling to stop said reflex.

“… We’ll consider it if our schedule allows,” Loid said, turning back to Gazyl.

Anya cheered and threw her arms up, he heard Yor sigh happily and say, “Thank you, Loid.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason, Forger,” Gazyl said proudly.

Loid nodded. “I can’t help but worry about the Paladias, though. If we’re too exhausted to work a shift or so forbid, get seriously injured and be unable to work, the restaurant might just keep being stuck in its debt spiral as it’s still chronically understaffed.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Mr. Forger,” Io said. “Even if Lord Colwyn attracts only hunters, they won’t always be out in the wilds. You’d be spoiled for choice for part-timers that can fill in for you while you’re out yourselves.”

“But therein lies the problem if those part-timers are competent and worth the effort of hiring them or if we should have just done the job ourselves,” Loid said.

Io scoffed playfully. “Real forward thinker considering all the angles, huh?”

“I like to be prepared for every contingency,” Loid replied. “Cheaper and less stressful that way.”

Io nodded. “Captain Aleina did tell me you were former military; I guess you were an officer at some point?”

“Sergeant,” Loid replied. “I left it before I could rise any higher or be recommended to Officer’s School. Not that being a butler was boring compared to that.”

“Any noteworthy commendations to your name, or did you just happen to be a really good soldier and servant who excelled at his job?” Io asked, their thick eyebrows rising in interest.

Loid felt a tugging at his sleeve, he looked down and saw Anya.

“Anya wants to know about Papa being cool and having exciting adventures before Anya, too,” Anya said, eyes still glimmering.

“I feel the same,” Yor said. “I should really know about you as your wife, especially since you won’t be able to know much about me with all my missing memories.”

“If it’s not too painful for you to recall, that is, Mr. Forger?” Aleina asked with a sympathetic look.

Loid debated it for a moment before he shook his head. “No, I’d be happy to share. I can’t tell you all of them, but I’m sure I have enough to fill in the time before we reach Port Illyria.”

“Hooray!” Anya cried before she sat looking eager to listen.

Loid glanced around and saw everyone else settling in to do the same, Yor smiling and nodding at him to continue.

Loid never thought he’d ever be explaining his many missions to anyone past Handler, their other superiors, and his trainees, but he had to admit, this was a lot more fun.

Chapter Text

“... I swapped the Diplomat’s dessert with the double I’d made, just before the cloche was put on it and someone else sent it out the door, out of my and the assassin’s reach both,” Loid said. “Neither of us could immediately follow the dessert and stick around the delegation’s table where we weren’t supposed to be, so all we could do was make ourselves busy while trying to steal glances through the windows.”

Eyes sparkling, Anya nodded eagerly. Almost everyone else was also listening to his story with rapt attention.

“Five minutes later, almost as planned during rehearsals, the Diplomat and the MP were to each share a scoop of their dessert and eat it at the same time,” Loid said. “By that moment, both I and the assassin had found excuses to be outside the kitchen or have a good view of the Diplomat from there.

“I waited. The assassin waited. The rest of the delegation and the MP’s staff waited, looking like the suspense was about to kill them. The Diplomat took his first bite with the MP, enjoyed it, and took a second, and then a third, and then—he stopped, dropping his spoon as he clutched his throat, instead.”

Anya gasped and almost jumped in her seat. “Did Mr. Assassin kill Mr. Diplomat with the poison after all?!” she cried.

Loid’s face darkened for a moment. He heard the others gasp in shock, lower their gazes, or swear under their breaths.

“The Diplomat...” Loid started grimly, “just ate too fast and choked,” he said smiling now.

Anya sighed in relief, the others did the same or glared mildly at Loid for tricking them.

“The Diplomat used his wine to wash it down, and after a brief moment to compose himself, wipe up the mess, and assure everyone he was fine, he finished the dessert with the MP, as planned—although, perhaps unsurprisingly, he took a little over half than the even split it was supposed to be.”

That got some chuckles and lightened the mood a bit.

“So Papa saved the day, right?” Anya asked, smiling.

“Not quite,” Loid said, shaking his head.

Anya blinked, confused, then her smile disappeared. The others also tensed up again.

“This was such a large, complicated operation, we feared our enemies would have a Plan B," Loid said. "And as the Diplomat invited the assassin to the table to thank him for the wonderful dessert, I realize this was when they were going to do it. I had no good reason to be coming with him as I was just a butler, so I needed to improvise.”

“What did you do, Forger?” Gazyl asked. “I don’t know what the servants’ rules are during a fancy noble’s dinner, but I’m sure you couldn’t just say you wanted to tag along and shake the guests’ hands, too.”

“And you’d be right, Gazyl, I could not just say I wanted to tag along,” Loid said. “But thankfully, the MP was a lush and almost drained their bottle of desert wine by himself. We had spares in a case ready to go for that exact reason, so I grabbed a fresh bottle and opened it, poured out some glasses, and followed after the assassin. Thankfully, he seemed too frustrated and laser-focused on finishing the job to notice me following behind him.”

“What was he planning to do?” Yor asked. “Stab him in the throat with a knife?”

“No, that would be too obvious," Loid said, shaking his head. "I noticed him fiddling with the sleeve of his coat and realized he must have had some sort of poisoning tool hidden under it. It might not have been the same poison that was in the dessert, but I didn't doubt it would be immediately lethal all the same. That way, they could still make the assassination incredibly public and he could still escape in the middle of the chaos.

“And now, the assassin was now at the delegate's table. As the host, the MP shook his hand first. Then, as the assassin let go of the MP, I watched him fiddle with his sleeve again before reaching the Diplomat’s offered hand...”

Loid paused, made sure that almost everyone was hanging off his words,

“... Then I ‘tripped and accidentally spilled’ some wine on the assassin, grabbing his wrist and jerking it down so he couldn’t hit the diplomat without being too obvious,” Loid said.

He gave a moment for the tension to drop and for the others to look impressed or amused.

“I might have lost face and gotten a scolding there for having such a public blunder, but the assassin had to use his other, dry hand to shake with the Diplomat, and then we were quickly shooed away as moved to the closing remarks.”

“Nice!” Io said, clapping briefly. “Did your assassin realize that wasn’t an accident?”

“He did,” Loid said, nodding, “he was glaring at me the whole time we went back into the kitchen together and I could see he wanted to kill me if he had the opportunity.”

“So then what happened next?” Anya asked eagerly.

“Nothing, because he had to change his uniform and I had to let him go,” Loid said, sighing.

“Aww, but why?” Anya asked, disappointed.

“Considering the stakes, his target, and how high his position was to have even been considered to personally touch the Diplomat’s dessert, much more make it entirely, he had to have had inside help—very powerful inside help,” Loid said. “I got the sense they would not have hesitated to retaliate if I tried to detain one of their assassins just after foiling their attempt on the Diplomat’s life.”

“So the Bad Guy just got away?” Anya asked.

“Yes, but my mission was still a success and the Diplomat raved about the party a few days afterward. He particularly enjoyed how delicious the dessert was and laughed about my ‘accident’, so I’d say it all worked out fine,” Loid said. “My employer certainly thought so, as well.”

“Wow,” Io said, shaking their head, “I didn’t realize things could get so wild at a dinner with that many important and rich nobles in it. They all ever seem to be so civil and pleasant.”

“Aren't you always part of the perimeter teams at the doors and the edges of crowds?" Gazyl asked. "Honestly, Io, I'd be happy for you if your higher-ups let you be near the nobles and rubbing shoulders with them, but I’d be real surprised if they did.”

“Yeah, fair enough, Gaz,” Io said, shrugging. “I guess from a distance, you can make anything look nice.”

“And from up close, you can see just how ugly it all truly is," Loid said. "As a former servant of nobility, it behooves me to say that not all of them engage in skulduggery, corruption, and other evil acts. But, with how many of them do, it's hard not to feel the good ones are just the exception to the rule."

Io and Aleina both nodded somberly.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of a tone and the speaker in the corner crackling to life:

“Captain Io?”

Io pulled out a radio-like device from their belt and spoke into it. “Speak, Ms. Balna.”

“We’re just about to enter the South Gate to Port Illyria,” Balna replied. “I’ve already got a visual of it from here, so if you’re still going to go ahead with that plan of yours, now would be the time to put it into action.”

“Copy that, and thank you for the heads-up, Ms. Balna,” Io said, smiling. They put the radio back on their belt, clapped their hands, and everyone but the guards stationed in front of the money chest started moving.

“Oh boy, Mr. Forger, you and your family are in for a treat!” Io said as they went around the table to go over to Yor’s cell and then pulled out a ring of keys.

“Is Captain Io going to let Mama free?” Anya asked, excited.

“Not completely! I’m sorry to say it’s too much if I take off her cuffs,” Io said, shaking their head as they found the key to Yor’s cell.

They turned to Yor and continued, “But, so long as she promises not to abuse my generosity and try to jump overboard and swim to freedom, I can let her out with you and your Papa so you all can see Port Illyria for the first time together as a family!”

“Oh, I promise I won't try to run away or cause any trouble, Captain Io!" Yor said quickly. "I don't want to make Loid regret marrying me and I really don’t want to miss sharing this moment with them.”

“Good enough for me!” Io said. “Captain Aleina, any objections?” they asked, looking over their shoulder.

Aleina sighed. “Just keep a lead on Mrs. Forger; you might never be a Captain ever again if your supervisors think you’re being far too loose with your prisoners, trustworthy and obedient as they might be.”

“Good point!” Io said. “Someone get a lead for me.”

“On it, Captain!” one of the other City Guards said.

“Oh, and Mr. Forger?” Io asked as they inserted the key.

“Yes?” Loid asked.

“Much as I’m sure you might want to be holding your wife’s lead, I’m legally responsible for her right now so I’ll be holding onto it instead,” Io said as they opened the cell and were handed a sturdy metal chain.

“Understood, Captain, but I don't understand why you'd need to say that," Loid said.

“Yeah, well, it’s just that I’ve met more than a few couples involving a warbeast, and their partners can tend to get pretty jealous and testy when someone else puts a lead on them or holds it instead,” Io said as they secured the chain to Yor’s cuffs. They laughed nervously and said, “Just covering my bases, nothing against you or what you two like to do, okay?”.

“Ah, noted, Captain Io,” Loid said.

“Thanks for understanding, Forger. Now, come on! Ready to go, Mrs. Forger?” Io said as they helped Yor up.

"Ready, Captain!" Yor said, calmly stepping out of her cell and following Io out of the deckhouse and onto the barge’s deck.

“Papa!” Anya cried, eagerly grabbing Mr. Chimera and standing up in her seat.

“We’re coming with, Anya, don’t worry,” Loid said as he picked them up and followed suit.

“Don't forget about us!" Gazyl said as he hopped off his seat. "Al here always likes to witness other folks' firsts too, right, Al?"

“Yes, I do,” Aleina replied as they joined.

They stepped out of the deckhouse, almost immediately feeling the change in the literal air.

Unlike some of the big cities Loid had been to, Port Illyria didn’t have that distinct smell of combustion, smog, and trash that filled all but the richest districts. This world didn’t seem to have combustion engines or widespread use of them, after all.

However, Loid could still detect its unique scent of heavy industry and large-scale transportation:

A distinct, bizarre medley of pungencies like chlorine or burning wires, mysterious odors that reminded him of being in the middle of a factory that mass-produced a broad swathe of industrial chemicals, and the scent of something burning or at least heated up and releasing volatile compounds. But, what was causing any of it or what it was in service for, Loid could not name or describe.

And, of course, there was the whiff of salty sea air in every breath.

Io led Yor to the flat center of the barge then stopped, Loid, Anya, and their friends joined them to sightsee. Meanwhile, the rest of the City Guards took positions near the rails, looking inward and keeping watch over them, or outward to keep watch for any potential trouble that might come for them from the water or the shoreline to their left.

(Fair enough,) Loid thought, (Yor is still their prisoner, after all.)

“Papa, look!” Anya cried, patting Loid before pointing with her finger. “Huuuge gate!”

Loid followed to look and quickly found himself both awed and impressed with the sheer size of this entrance to the city.

The gate was, as you’d expect, absolutely massive, the opening stretching up to 6-7 stories at its highest, probably to accommodate both titanic sailboats and the more advanced motorized vessels that still had auxiliary sails. The gate was just as wide if not more so, for how many ships were trying to sail into or out of them in two distinct lanes, the largest ships slowly moving along in the center, while the smaller ships like their barge tried to fit in whatever space was left, sometimes clashing and fighting over it like motorists stuck in rush hour traffic.

And while the sheer number of types of boats, the colors of their sails, the designs of their flags, the shapes of their hulls, and the variety in their crews, passengers, and cargo were all certainly impressive and interesting, Loid found himself more drawn to what and who was supposed to defend this gate and discourage troublemakers:

Guns, the kind you’d find mounted on a warship.

The closest ones Loid could find seemed to be machine guns, meant for moving down any marauding monsters or humanoids unfortunate enough to be exposed and in range with an unrelenting hail of gunfire and bolts that could easily pierce through flesh and punch into lighter armors.

The next level above that was more serious ordnance, large bore cannons or clusters of cannons that probably shot bombs, cannonballs, or missiles meant to destroy heavy armor, punch holes in ships and sink them, or vaporize huge swathes of enemies in one shot.

The biggest weapons were mounted at the tops of the towers, and the most alien to Loid as they looked like titanic, bejeweled lamps or giant crystal arrays.

Were they some sort of shield emitter to help defend the walls and protect the airspace above it? Magical laser cannons to be focused on the most durable and dangerous of targets, piercing through all but the toughest defenses? Or were they just solar-powered heat rays that could boil the river and set the rest of the area on fire if it came to that?

As they shone and glowed from the light of the midday sun, Loid found them both beautiful and terrifying.

“Papa, look at those statues on the sides!” Anya cried.

Loid did and found a building-sized humanoid sculpture standing at one side of the gate. He glanced to the other side and found the head of its equally massive twin peeking over the outgoing lane of boats.

They seemed to be made out of a mixture of ceramic, marble, precious metals, and jewels, resembling humanoids in elaborate suits of full plate armor like medieval European knights. They were complete with proportionally sized spears and shields that they held at rest and even had appropriately sized surcoats with Port Illyria’s emblem. The slots in their visors had been filled with crystal or glass, so instead of darkness or stone in the gaps, they glowed and seemed to look alive.

“They’re certainly impressive, but isn’t this quite a lot of expense for some decorations at the gates?” Loid asked.

Io burst out laughing. “Oh, Mr. Forger, those aren’t just statues,” they said as they caught their breath.

“Pardon?” Loid asked.

“Just watch that one, all of you,” Io said as they pointed at the statue closest to them and then pulled out their radio again.

Loid was hesitant but Anya and Yor were already obediently looking as directed and waiting with anticipation, so he just followed along.

Io spoke to Ms. Balna and soon after, the barge blew its horn in a pattern. It was very rhythmic and sounded nothing like the navigation or emergency codes Loid knew from impersonating navy officers and sailors.

He wondered just what it could have meant—and then, the statue they were all staring at started moving.

Anya gasped and squealed with delight, Yor yelped in surprise, and it took all of Loid’s training not to show how caught off-guard he was, too.

The statue—no, the giant robot turned its head to look at the ships passing by on its side, found their barge with Io and his subordinates waving at it, then the machine rested its spear against its shoulder and waved hello.

“HIIII...! THIS IS ANYA...!” Anya shouted at the top of her little lungs.

The robot nodded and gave a thumbs up back before it—or Loid supposed, its pilot or crew—quietly grabbed its spear and resumed standing guard as before.

“THAT WAS SO COOL!” Anya shouted in Loid’s face.

“Yes, very impressive,” Loid said. “You can stop shouting now, Anya, I think Mr. Giant Soldier is going back to work.”

“Oops,” Anya said, embarrassed for a moment before the excitement quickly returned.

“I’m shocked they can move that smoothly despite their size and how much they must weigh with all that armor and weapons,” Yor said, looking both intimidated and impressed. “I don’t think I can even begin to take one in a fight if just had myself and my knives!”

“You’d be a legend for the ages if you could do that and win!” Io said, laughing. “Even if you had anti-Machine Knight weapons, it usually takes an elite squad of Armor-Breakers to take one down, and even then, they’d usually know exactly how to take advantage of the battlefield and how to abuse their target’s weaknesses long before they got a visual.

“Excluding the Tyrant-class monsters they’re built to kill, the only thing that can take a Machine Knight head-on and win is another Machine Knight.”

“So that’s what those giant robots are called, a Machine Knight?” Loid said.

“Yep!” Io replied, nodding. “It’s not what they call them in Eun-jin, where they were invented and the bulk of development still is, but here in Port Illyria, that’s what the Guard is supposed to call them for standardization.

“All that being said, though, you can ask 10 random folks in the city what they call it instead, and get 13 different answers.”

“Why 13 from 10 people?” Yor asked.

“Because there’ll be at least 3 bystanders who’ll butt in and insist that’s not what Machine Knights are called, actually,” Io added, smirking.

Aleina sighed and smiled. “Live here long enough and you’ll be multilingual before you know it,” she said.

(That’d be very useful to take advantage of in the future,) Loid thought as they passed under the gates and into a tunnel.

Now, instead of the guns, Loid could see the much smaller scale, less visually impressive, but probably far more important security measure:

Many, many City Guards, observing from windows embedded into the walls, floating around on very small, highly agile boats that could easily weave between the vessels, or just leaping from boat to boat, using an arm-mounted rope-gun to bridge longer gaps or catch up to a boat that was already sailing past them.

As an official City Guard barge with its captain and many of its uniformed crew visibly out on the deck alongside their still-chained prisoner, they managed to avoid any scrutiny, but many of the boats around them could not.

If they weren’t already bearing some flags or insignia that cleared them to pass with a simple wave of the hand and a record on a logbook, the inspectors would often sail up beside them or climb aboard and start asking questions and examining their cargo. Most went smoothly but a handful seemed to run into trouble.

Some boats slowed down dramatically and changed the flow of traffic. Some were explicitly pulled to the side with the City Guard boats making a path for them. And with one that had a black and red flag now hung on its rigging, its anchor was dropped, back-up was rushing over, and the crew on it seemed tense and bracing for the worst.

For better or worse, however, they quickly sailed past all of them and they were soon out of sight, sound, and mind.

Their barge began to exit the tunnel, and on the other side, something was so bright and radiant that Loid and Yor found themselves preemptively squinting their eyes and shielding Anya’s. There was a brief bright glare, it passed, Loid carefully opened his eyes again while Anya pulled their hands out of the way to see.

“Woah...” Anya said, awed once more with her eyes wide and sparkling.

“This one’s sword is even bigger than the one in Reinseburg...” Yor said, just as excited.

“I suppose Port Illyria could have afforded a much larger, elaborate likeness,” Loid said.

The barge entered the Port Illyria version of a roundabout, with an island in the center featuring a gigantic statue of Lady Reines de Renara, Founder of Reinesburg. Around the base, there was a park filled to the brim with visitors, peddlers, and pets, just as if not more lively than Reinesburg was during the lunch rush, and it was only mid-morning around 10 AM right now.

(Tiny relative to Port Illyria indeed,) Loid thought.

Unlike the statue in her namesake town, Port Illyria’s was in a much more active pose: one foot on a rock and her sword valiantly raised skyward in victory or as she ordered her soldiers to charge. The expression on her face and the powerful aura radiating from her could have gone either way.

The blade of her sword was either coated or made of some crystalline material, as it reflected the light of the sun much more intensely than the marble-like rock the rest of the statue was made of.

“Can this statue move, too?” Anya asked as she turned to Io.

“Nah,” Io said, shaking their head, “it’s just a regular statue.”

“Aww,” Anya said, disappointed. “Why?”

“This statue was built long before Port Illyria got the resources to show off their Machine Knights as they do now," Aleina replied. “Back then, they were strictly kept in their warehouses and only ever brought out when there was an emergency that merited such a dramatic response.

“The only exception that comes to mind is Lulurun, as in, ‘Lulurun Valley’s Founder’ Lulurun,” Aleina finished.

“Why?” Anya asked. “Was Ms. Lulurun special?”

“Yep!” Gazyl said, smiling. “She was a hell of an arcane engineer. Somehow, she managed to build, maintain, and pilot an MK all by herself, when most people needed entire armies of staff just to keep one in working condition. It was just one of the many reasons she was my favorite subject in History Class.”

“Can Anya pilot a Machine-y Knight, too?” Anya asked.

“You could in the future, but I sincerely wish you luck, kid,” Gazyl said. “Anyone can enroll in the Machine Knight Program, but not everyone will graduate from it, or even stay long enough to be allowed to pilot one outside the training grounds.”

“So what does it take?” Loid asked as their boat began to turn away from traffic, into a secluded series of canals.

“Better if you just stop by the University of Port Illyria and see what all the requirements are nowadays,” Gazyl said. “It’s in the Light of Illyria District like the Halls of Justice, anyway, so we could just walk after we’re done there.”

“Um, and where’s the Light of Illyria District?” Yor asked.

“Waaay up over there,” Io said, raising their arm skyward at a steep angle.

Everyone looked, and even someone as tall as Aleina had to crane her neck.

Several kilometers away and up from them, with vast swathes of wooden and stone neighborhoods, parks, docks, ships, canals, and eye-catching landmarks in between, was a tall mountain with a lighthouse built on its peak.

Unlike the simplified silhouette that featured prominently on Port Illyria’s banners and flags, this lighthouse did not just have a handful of modest buildings around its base and then cliff face until you reached the docks and the sea.

But, Loid supposed it was a testament to the architects who built it and the designers of the banner that he could instantly tell that must have been the Light of Illyria, Port Illyria’s first and oldest lighthouse.

“Much as I’d love to give you all a free boat tour around the city, I’m afraid I need to get you to court ASAP so we’re using the Back Canals,” Io said as they started sailing towards a gate guarded by two small guard towers.

“It’s fine, Captain,” Loid said as the Guards began to signal to each other. “I think we’d enjoy the tour much better once we know Yor’s free,” he said, looking at her with a small, hopeful smile.

“Mm,” Yor said, giving a small smile back, “I think so too.”

“Mama and Papa are flirting,” Anya said.

“Hah, yeah! And right in front of the City Guard and in public, at that! Have a little shame, you two!” Gazyl said jokingly.

Yor and Loid both blushed and looked away.

“Yeah, try to tone it down once the court is in session, okay?" Io said, smirking. "Being a little two lovey-dovey might just accidentally earn you enemies in the jury box.”

The two of them nodded as the gates opened and their boat entered the Back Canals.

Chapter Text

Loid supposed it spoke to the sheer size, prosperity, and diversity of Port Illyria that even in the Back Canals, dark, damp, and cramped as they were, it was bustling and thriving almost as much as the streets and islands under the sun and in the open air.

Loid didn’t know if the citizens here were legal residents, as their homes and businesses were built on or beneath the water or in literal holes in the walls, ropes and fences connecting them and providing divisions between where amphibious individuals could swim or walk and ships could sail on. Just from brief glances, there was everything you'd see in a normal bustling urban area, from restaurants to bars, to specialty stores, entertainment venues, and even some relatively open areas that functioned the same as parks for everyone to rest and mingle in—or, Loid supposed it was more accurate to say, pools for everyone to swim and float in together.

It reminded him of all the figurative or literal underground markets and settlements he’d had to infiltrate, particularly ones that happened to take advantage of ancient catacombs or abandoned tunnels dug out by failed infrastructure projects.

However, the Guards didn’t seem to particularly care about any of them as they went about their days, and in turn, the residents of the Back Canals gave them right of way as a matter of course and paid them little mind otherwise. Some even waved and called out as they recognized the people aboard, mostly friends and acquaintances of Io and/or Gazyl.

“It's like a wholly new city in here," Yor said, amazed as she looked around, her ears twisting and turning to all the various new stimuli surrounding them.

“Yeah,” Anya said, just as amazed and whipping her head along with her mother.

“I take it you have a significant part of the Umbran population living here?” Loid asked Io.

“That we do!” Io said. “Since all of them prefer darkness, those that also like it cramped, wet, and cold live here. We’ve also got some people that just prefer to operate where it’s relatively less lively, and you aren’t likely to run into the usual Lumen crowds for whatever reasons.”

“Like people doing crimes...?” Anya whispered, eyes widening like she was about to be told a secret.

Io laughed and lowered their voice as they said, “I’m not going to say yes, but I can’t really say no, either.”

Anya seemed delighted despite the vague answer.

“Seriously, though, if you ever want to explore the Back Canals as a tourist and see what’s good around here, you ought to bring an Umbran friend that already knows their way around and what the culture is like,” Io said, going back to their normal tone of voice. "Gaz and I have been going down here for all kinds of reasons for almost all our lives, but we'll always just be visitors from outside, and never privy to the deepest parts and secrets of this place.”

Loid hummed in agreement, as well.

He could only catch brief glimpses of the residents of the Back Canals, since there was very little sunlight here peeking through openings into the surface like manholes, sewer grates, and ventilation grates, and the rest were pale artificial lights or the barge’s spotlight.

But, it was very telling when most of the residents seemed to be pale-skinned from lack of sunlight or were alien hues like blues, greens, and purples; had webbed hands, feet, and thick tails, large fins, or tentacles for swimming; and what looked like gills on the sides of their chests, visible air sacs like frogs, or slimy coatings on their skin like amphibians.

This was not a place for the likes of Loid or his family to stay for long, as reinforced by how quickly they passed through.

Eventually, they exited out another gate into a large, circular area with several small-to-medium-size ships anchored and idling, waiting for something. The ceiling stretched so high above them, you could only catch the height markers, the machinery, and the gates that lined the walls before you risked falling over trying to see that far up.

“Watch out, Anya,” Loid said as he cradled the back of her head.

“So high...” Anya mumbled as she tilted her head back down.“Anya’s getting dizzy...”

“Is this how get to the Light of Illyria District?” Yor asked.

“It’s the fastest way up there, yeah!” Io replied. “No matter how long you have to wait for it to fill up with ships, it’s still going to be a lot less time than trying to get up via the roads and the canals winding up Mt. Elisen.”

“So this is an elevator?” Loid asked.

“Yep!” Io said, giving a thumbs up.

Then as if on cue, a horn sounded, the gate they’d entered through shut as with the others nearby, lights began to strobe and change color. Crews that had been idling on deck and passing the time through cards or drinks and snacks started going back to work, some passengers began to eagerly move to the rails and look around.

There were rumbling, roaring sounds echoing all over the elevator shaft, a mix of water surging through countless giant pipes, and magical machines whirring to life. Loid peered beneath the surface of the water, he saw floodgates beginning to open, the flow so powerful the currents were easily visible, with huge mounds of bubbles erupting on the surface.

Anya gasped and cooed in awe as the water level rapidly began to rise. More and more floodgates began to open around and beneath them, accelerating their rise until just a few minutes later, they were a few kilometers above sea level and could finally comfortably see the ceiling and all its glass panes letting the light through.

And on one of the walls, there was a stained glass mural of a young woman with cerulean hair tied back into a bun and bright eyes of a similar shade, motorized pumps, and a Machine Knight helping her pour water down into a hole below.

“Is that Ms. Lulurun?” Anya asked as she gazed at it in fascination.

“Yeah, specifically sometime in her mid-20's when she was beginning to rise in the ranks,” Gazyl replied, smiling. “By this point, she was still just a rank-and-file infrastructure mage helping work the machines than designing and building almost system that Port Illyria and every other settlement in the region still relies on today."

“You know so much about her, you must really admire her, Gazyl,” Yor said.

“Hey, every kid needs to have a hero, don’t they?” Gazyl said, looking over at her. “I just never lost faith in mine.”

Loid nodded then began to think.

He was already certain he was going to be the best example of a father and a family man that Anya had ever had. Yor was also promising to be an excellent mother and could teach Anya all the things he could not, for the simple fact that he was a man and Anya was his daughter. But, even with a village already ready and willing to help raise this child, what about figures she could aspire to?

It had to be someone who was successful, famous, and ideally, as virtuous as a mortal could be.

It had to be someone who had achieved excellence and recognition in their chosen field.

It had to be someone who could inspire others to strive, to show them just how far someone could come, to look up to when they were down and when they were wavering in their convictions.

And perhaps most importantly, it had to be someone that didn’t need to lie and hide his achievements because so much of what he did was illegal, none of it was meant to go down in history or even be recorded if all went right.

Loid felt Anya tugging at his sleeve and looked down. “Yes, Anya?”

"Anya thinks Papa is cool, too," Anya said. "Maybe Ms. Lulurun will be really cool and Anya will like Ms. Lulurun as Gazyl does. But Papa is always going to be the first cool person for Anya, then Mama, and then Ms. Lulurun and anyone else that Anya thinks is cool."

There was a part of him that refused to accept this compliment, Twilight's soul was too stained, darkened, and hardened to ever be someone that anyone should aspire to become, even other spies.

But, he was literally a world away from all that, and more importantly, Loid wasn’t going to let Anya down by rejecting the compliment.

“Thank you, Anya,” Loid said, patting her on the head.

Anya giggled, accepting it happily.

“Thank you as well,” Yor said, looking flushed and embarrassed.

“Sharp and sweet both, isn’t she?” Io said, smiling.

“Yes,” Loid said proudly, “yes she is.”

A horn sounded again, and gates leading out of the area started to open up. It seemed that the system was last in, first out, as their barge was one of the first to fire up its engine again while the canal workers called out to them. As they began to leave the elevator shaft into the bright midday sun once more, Loid wondered what was going to greet them first.

And this time, it was trees, shrubs, and other greenery.

As if trying to show just how powerful and rich Port Illyria’s architects and builders were, they decided to create lush gardens and parks at the top of a giant mountain that was mostly made of rock. Normally, nothing but the likes of lichen would grow here.

The plants lined the large, roundabout-like canal they were sailing on; they were abundant in the parks and front gardens of massive, elaborate structures and the entrances to complexes; and they were even planted on roof gardens, hung from the eaves, or grew along the columns that supported both. The only place you wouldn't see them was around the largest docks and industrial routes where the decorations were mostly artificial or nonexistent.

And of course, far off at the end of one lane was the Light of Illyria.

From down below at the South Gate, it was visible and a prominent part of the skyline, but here, it seemed to be even more impossibly tall and large than the elevator shaft they’d just ridden in. It seemed as if this world’s inhabitants had tried to build a tower to climb up into the heavens, and unlike what happened to Babel, no indignant deity struck it down.

If it was still being actively lit up and used to guide ships at night and in poor weather, Loid could sparsely imagine just how it would look like then and how far its beam could reach.

Anya gasped, slack-jawed and wide-eyed before she inevitably turned to the other magnificent buildings they were nearing and asked Io, “What’s that place?”

“Pardalis Exchange,” Io replied. "It's where the richest people in the city go to see where to throw their money next, figure out how much they stand to gain or lose on their latest bet. Also where you’ll find some of the biggest, most expensive auctions for the rarest, most valuable stuff ever traded for in the city.

“Speaking of Pardalis, I hear that Named you killed, Ullgar the Undying, is having his core and his other parts auctioned off there in a few weeks!" Io continued, looking at Yor and Loid. "Not that you two will ever see a coin from it since Lord Colwyn already sold the corpse to the city and is paying your bounty himself, but you might want to come to socialize, you know? A lot of Named seekers tend to attend auctions to mingle and network, even if they're not aiming for rare materials."

“It sounds interesting but we’ll probably pass,” Loid said. “I’m not planning to go out and kill any more Named unless it’s posing a direct threat to Reinesburg and my family.”

Yor nodded. “I think those days of mine are over, too.”

“Suit yourselves, no judgment,” Io said, shrugging.

“So what’s that big building with all the gold and shiny statues next to it?” Anya asked.

Io chuckled and said, “The only building that can be next to Pardalis: the Head Office of the Bank of Port Illyria, where almost all of us store our money, so they can help us move it around easily.”

“Do they process new accounts there?” Loid asked.

“They do, but honestly, even though the Head Office is a public building and won’t turn you away if you’re not nobility or very, very rich like they usually serve, I’d just go open an account at a branch closer to Reinesburg,” Io said. “Those are the staff and lines you’re going to be waiting in the future, and with the record system the bank has, the numbers in your account will always be accurate at any branch you go to.”

“I'm feeling a little hesitant to go down that far," Loid said, glancing down at the kilometers of the city below, to where Lady Reines' statue seemed like just a shiny statuette now. “We don’t have a boat and carrying a trunk of full money down a mountain and through several unfamiliar districts sounds like a recipe for trouble.”

“I think we could manage it if we really had to,” Yor said. “Once I have the cuffs off me, I can just carry the trunk and jump off the rooftops so we minimize the chances of getting cornered or lost. You and Anya can just follow after me, right?”

“What, by using Water Tendrils to swing and pull ourselves after you on the rooftops?” Loid joked.

“Yes!” Yor said in all seriousness.

“That sounds like so much fun,” Anya said, buzzing with excitement.

Aleina sighed and said, “Please don’t do any of that, all of you.”

“Yeah,” Io said uneasily, “it sounds like great fun, but it’s probably going to be more trouble than it’s worth if someone complains or you run on a rooftop you’re not supposed to be on and get arrested for trespassing.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking I could go be the leader so I can show them the fastest route on the roofs with minimal legal trouble,” Gazyl said with mock disappointment.

“Instead, you can just hitch a ride back with us once you’re done with your trial,” Io said. “Our outpost is down near the South Gate. We can just idle at the Halls of Justice’s docks and wait for you when you get back, then we can drop you off at the bank branch there before we get back to regular duty.”

“That’s really nice of you, we’d appreciate it,” Yor said. “You know, I was kind of afraid of you City Guards when Gazyl mentioned you’re supposed to be tough on crime these days, but you’re all really nice!”

“Heh, thanks for the compliment, but moving forward, I’d still be careful and wouldn’t be too chummy right away,” Io said, their face growing serious. “Most of us down at South Station know Captain Aleina so she says we can be chill around and should be friendly to you, we will.

“Others may not be as kind and welcoming if you’re not familiar to them, or if they feel you’re stirring up trouble in their neighborhoods.”

Then, Io relaxed, smiled, and said, “But that’ll be if you ever run into those Guards and as your Captain, I assure you this boat has none of them. Right, crew?!” they called out.

“Yes, Captain!” they all said, some playfully, some seriously, some mildly exasperated, all genuine.

Io sighed happily. “Man, I could seriously get used to keeping a position like this.”

“Get more serious about your administrative duties, Io, and you might find it becoming a reality someday,” Aleina said.

"Yeah, no, I think I'll just savor today while it lasts," Io said as their expression soured.

Most everyone including his subordinates laughed at them.

The conversation was over, Anya started pointing at all the other buildings they were passing by. Some were important landmarks like Pardalis, the rest were what inevitably sprung up around such places: luxury boutiques, restaurants, offices for trading companies, investment advisers, and manpower services, and lots of high-end apartments with high external walls, balconies, and uniformed groundskeepers and servantry keeping everything neat, orderly, and ready for their rich and likely aristocratic employers.

Eventually, they came upon a large, imposing building made prominently of rock. Its most iconic feature was the large statue up front by the water. The subject was an imposing bull warbeast man with prominent horns, a steely gaze, sharp, hard-edged features, and a body that seemed to be entirely made of chiseled muscle underneath his robes. In one massive hand was a book that seemed to be made of bound sheets or boards, and the other was held out with palm open as if inviting someone to take his hand, give him something, cast a spell, or accept a challenge to fight.

In Loid's old world, Justice was oftentimes a blindfolded woman with scales and a sword in her hands.

In Port Illyria, it seemed Justice was a man with unobstructed sight who needed no weapon to swiftly and surely deliver his sentencing.

“Who’s Mr. Angry Bull Man?” Anya asked.

“That would be Judge Taarush," Gazyl said, "one of Port Illyria's first officially sanctioned judges and before that, Illyria's personal bodyguard and adviser for all things law enforcement. He's also one of my favorite parts of History Class, though on a lower level than Lulurun."

“Why?” Anya asked as the barge began to steer to the side.

“Well, there was that time during a war between Port Illyria and another nation, that an enemy admiral invited Taarush to his ship, allegedly for a peace negotiation dinner,” Gazyl said. “But then, once they were out to sea and miles away from help or witnesses, the admiral and his crew tried to murder Taarush and his delegation, then sink the ship and claim they were killed in an accident at sea.”

Anya gasped. “Then what happened next?”

“Taarush ended up killing most of the enemy’s crew while protecting his delegation, getting them onto a boat and letting them escape while he held back the surviving crew mates so they wouldn't just get blown out of the water," Gazyl said. "The admiral was so angry Taarush ruined his plans, that he tried to kill him personally, but Taarush eventually won by grappling the admiral and slamming him into the deck so hard, they went through every floor beneath them and past the bottom of the ship, sinking it. And then he swam back to Port Illyria while everyone was trying to figure out how to break the news that Taarush had been ambushed and murdered and what to do next.”

“Wow...” Anya said, starry-eyed.

“He does sound incredible,” Yor said, sharing a similar expression.

Aleina sighed. “You could have at least made a passing mention of all of his work advancing legal theory, standardizing courtroom procedure, the institution of translators and cultural advisers for attorneys and judges, or his reforms and advances in international law and treaties.”

“Well, sorry I never grew up past 6-year-old Gazyl's love of violence and badass fights!" Gazyl huffed, offended.

“Whichever of his achievements we focus on aside...” Loid said as they came up to a dock on the side of the Halls of Justice. “Is there any particular reason they still use his likeness for the building?”

“Yeah, to send a message,” Io said as the boat slowed down and made itself parallel to the building. “To the innocent, the persecuted, and the falsely accused, here is a defender of justice that has seen everything and will not stop for anything until he sees you given what you deserve. And to the guilty, the persecutors, and the conspirators, he’s seen everything and will not stop for anything until he sees you given what you deserve, either.”

Yor hummed appreciatively. “That does sound like someone I’d want to be on our side in a legal battle.”

Ropes were thrown out to help pull them to shore, dockworkers began to signal and coordinate with them. The Guards went back to work, readying everyone and the trunk full of money to enter the Halls of Justice and fend off anyone that tried to attack either.

The sudden change in the atmosphere made Anya nervous again, but Loid told her, “We’re leaving this place together as a family, Anya.”

Anya didn’t look totally convinced, but Loid supposed they could all only hope for the best.

Chapter Text

On a Thursday mid-morning, the Halls of Justice was incredibly busy.

Everywhere you looked, folks were lining up at the various desks and counters for assistance, paralegals transporting documents, those wrapped up in legal cases being transported into the various offices and courtrooms, individuals in luxurious outfits and accessories that marked them as learned experts of law, and security standing watch and making sure that everything was in order and peaceful in the heart of Port Illyria’s legal system.

The business despite it being an average day didn’t surprise Loid in the slightest.

Even just hearing about Port Illyria and what it was famous for, he would be surprised if there wasn’t a gigantic amount of crimes being prosecuted and lawsuits being argued on any given day. He would also bet anything that most of the involved the usual charges when international actors were involved: smuggling, financial fraud, and illegal movement of currencies and resources across borders and into organizations and individuals that probably should not have had access to them, or conversely, hiding and denying them to the organizations and individuals who were supposed to have them.

What violent crimes were being prosecuted here were probably few and far between. So, Loid hoped that Aleina’s reasoning about Yor’s mitigating factors was right and Gazyl’s optimism would hold up, and they would soon be leaving her with Yor free to live her life back in Reinesburg with just a black mark on her criminal record and a little over a million paid in bail.

Io was with them but most of their subordinates had been left back on the boat. Because of jurisdiction or them not having enough numbers, Loid and his family were now under the care of the Court Guards.

They were wearing different colored uniforms; instead of the utilitarian khakis and browns of Io and their subordinates, they had rich shades of blue with gold, copper, and silver accessories to show rank or affiliation. The fabrics themselves were also much more luxurious in appearance and touch, and didn't seem as light, practical, and suited for the usual weather outdoors in Port Illyria.

If Court Guards were expected to get wet and sweaty as frequently as their counterparts out in the city streets and canals, then something must have gone terribly wrong at the Halls of Justice.