Part Sixty-Five — The Household of Kobayashi

　The elves arrived faster than I'd braced for, and construction took a full month, start to finish――thirty houses becoming fifty, then closer to eighty as Lyra's scattered people continued arriving, the domain rapidly stopping being simply "mine" and starting, unmistakably, to look like an actual town.

　Lyra organized it all with an efficiency that put my own early, clumsy attempts at Arcane Creation to shame――elven creation magic drawing on precision and cooperative working, dozens of hands raising structure after structure from ground that had once held nothing but my own solitary grief.

　Some of the elves, at her suggestion, drew water directly from the mountain's springs into proper plumbing――and, at my slightly embarrassed insistence, into real hot tubs, built into several of the larger communal buildings.

　"An unusual priority," she observed, watching the first one take shape.

　"You have no idea how much I've missed water that isn't heated over a fire and immediately going cold," I said. "Some things translate across worlds."

　Eris, through all of it, had grown into something genuinely remarkable――sharpening not just her control but her raw capability, until our sparring stopped being one-sided lessons and started, more than once, ending in an actual draw.

　She fought now with a blade of her own, forged by Anti-Subconsciousness the same way mine had been born in that mansion's underground chamber.

　"How does that actually work?" I asked once, watching my own hands move with a precision I hadn't consciously directed.

　< I am borrowing partial control of your physical form to complete the forging. You lack the specific technical knowledge required independently. I possess it. >

　Anti-Subconsciousness's explanation was as matter-of-fact as ever.

　Eris's blade, once finished, suited her precisely――lighter than mine, built for the quick, controlled style she'd developed over months of dedicated practice.

　"It's beautiful," she said, turning it over in the firelight.

　"You earned it," I said. "Every bit of the skill behind it."

　It was on one of those settling-in evenings that Lyra found me alone, clearly working up to something.

　"Kai," she said, direct as ever, "I need to ask you something. I want you to give me a name."

Oh.

Oh no.

　"You already have a beautiful name," I said, buying time. "What brought this on?"

　"I want to be part of the family. Properly. Not just someone traveling alongside it."

　"Alright," I said. "That's good enough for me. What name feels right, or should I choose?"

　A faint blush touched her cheeks.

　"I'd like you to choose."

　I considered her――sharp, precise, fiercely protective, patient in a way that spoke to centuries of practice at exactly that virtue.

　"Elaine," I said.

　"From now on, that's your name."

　The air shifted the moment the word left my mouth.

　An aura rose, faint at first, blue bleeding into purple, settling into something new.

　< The name Elaine has fused with the soul of the individual formerly known as Lyra. >

　Anti-Subconsciousness paused.

　< She has evolved into a high elf. >

What the――for real? Another one?

　< Elves typically reach no higher than purple-level anti-mana at their peak. Only dragons have historically reached red. Of those, only three achieved genuine mastery――and of those three, only one ascended into pure-mana, becoming the God of Creation. Elaine has not merely reached the elven ceiling. She has achieved something new within it――mixed, the same as your own aura, though smaller in scale. >

　Elaine knelt, deliberate and solemn.

　"I give my undying loyalty to you, Lord Kai."

　"Hey. Stop that. Don't add 'lord' to my name."

　"Understood, Lord Kai."

You've got to be kidding me.

　The following morning, I nearly had a heart attack stepping outside.

　The entire elven population――several hundred strong――stood in the streets, facing my door in a silence that felt more alarming than any noise could have.

Nope.

Going back inside.

　< Running will not resolve the situation. >

　Anti-Subconsciousness's voice was as dry as ever.

　I stepped back outside.

　Aeron, the elder, stepped forward.

　"We heard what happened last night."

What did he――

Elaine, you had to open your mouth.

　"They all want you to give them new names," Elaine explained, entirely unbothered, appearing at his side. "They want to belong here properly."

　I studied the assembled crowd, feeling the absurd weight of it.

　< Nothing adverse happens to you, regardless of quantity. >

　Anti-Subconsciousness answered before I'd even finished asking.

Alright.

Guess we're doing this properly, then.

　I named Aeron first――surname Kobayashi.

　Then his wife, Seris.

　Their children――Kael, the eldest, serious and steady; Elian, curious and thoughtful; Rowan, energetic and prone to minor trouble; and Aria, the youngest, small and earnest, her name catching briefly in my throat for reasons that were entirely my own.

　"The name Kobayashi," I told the wider crowd, "means you're part of me. Whatever's mine belongs to you too, from this point forward."

　Not everyone received the surname itself.

　That distinction I kept deliberate, reserved for those closest to the family's actual founding.

　The rest of Horizoncrest's growing population fell under the family's protection――full members of the community without carrying the name.

　Aeron, days later, asked what we should call the domain itself, now that it had become so much more than my quiet grief made into wood and stone.

　< Horizoncrest. >

　Anti-Subconsciousness offered the name simply.

　"Horizoncrest," I repeated.

　Aeron nodded his approval.

　It was around then that word arrived from Roshan――a message forwarded through the guild, from the widow I'd left in charge of her late husband's legitimate business.

Been a while since I thought about that thread.

Lord Kai――as promised, I've gathered what information I could.

There's a merchant here, a woman named Corla, who trades reliably in preserved goods and rare spices. I've vouched for her, and she's agreed to supply Horizoncrest directly through my own shipments, no questions asked about where the goods are actually going.

Separately: the institution hunting anomalies isn't simply "the Church," as most call it in passing. Its true name is the Holy Church of Laodicea, based in the Kingdom of Ashford.

Publicly, they present themselves as champions of "justice of the people, rule of the people"――populist, beloved by common folk who've never seen what happens beneath that banner.

Privately, from what little I've gathered, that banner appears to cover considerably darker work.

I'll continue to learn what I can.

――Corla and I both send our regards.

The Holy Church of Laodicea.

A real name, finally, wrapped in propaganda that would make any old-world politician proud.

　I brought the letter to Eris and Elaine that evening.

　"Justice of the people," Elaine said, something bitter in her tone. "That's a convenient banner to hide anomaly-hunting behind."

　"It usually is," I said. "The worst things people do rarely announce themselves honestly."

Filing this away too.

Laodicea.

A name with a face now. A philosophy. Propaganda I can actually study and eventually pick apart.

　That night, walking the edges of Horizoncrest alone, I found Aeron doing the same and fell into step beside him.

　"You've lived a long life," I said carefully. "Longer than most people I've ever known."

　I hesitated.

　"I wanted to ask――do you know anything about the two True Dragons? The ones who killed my parents?"

　He was quiet for a long moment, weighing something old and considered.

　"Elves live long enough to remember things the rest of the world forgets," he said finally. "I know a few things. Not everything. But more, perhaps, than you'd expect from anyone still living."

Finally.

A real thread.

On the dragons, after all these years.

　"Tell me," I said. "Whatever you know."

　I looked at him.

　"Please."

　Aeron looked out over the town we'd built together.

　Then, slowly, he began.