Chapter 298: A New Life For An Old Friend

Olmosk watches his breath as he exhales. It’s a strange feeling, and he’s extremely thankful to the Imperial Family of the Fievegal for the equipment they provided to the transport unit escorting supplies to an extremely remote location.

Dante Five, partnered once more with Grendel Two, have been deployed on a shuttle to bring meat, grain, fruits, and vegetables to the far away island where Daniel and Magnir disappeared to a couple months ago.

Due to how far south the island is, as well as the current season, it is still snowing throughout the day, and the cold makes the dattakorien commander’s feline nose tickle and burn, and every breath scratches at his nostrils and throat. He feels like his sense of smell is quite dull at present, and he’s a little thankful for it.

The denizens they are providing relief support to are the Selkethia, a species of sapient, insectoid beings that range in size based on the biological caste they fall into, with regular workers comparing to the petite gatonines, a few of which have joined Dante Five after passing the entrance tests, while the actual Selkethian soldiers are twice as big as the biggest boruan female, one of the largest sapient species other than dragons and feldroks. The other two comparing in size to boruans are the orcs, few of which have joined the Fievegal and who are larger than the boruans, and certain bloodlines of the cambions, who are slightly smaller than female boruans.

The Selkethia Queen herself, who can’t leave the actual hive structure, is almost as large as Roetta in her true form, but unlike the dragons, who are quite mobile and strong in either form, the Selkethia Queen is constantly heavily laden with eggs that give birth to dozens of soldiers and workers per day, and, supposedly, a princess every couple of weeks, who has the potential to become a future Queen.

Which brings Olmosk to the present moment, where he is watching over the supply sorting operation.

Void bags make it easy to move massive amounts of supplies in just a single vehicle, so long as there is room to accommodate each kind of void bag. And, given the amount of supplies, it takes time to transfer each crate out and move it out of the way, so it’s a steady train of motion that functions well without distraction.

But, when twelve Selkethia princesses of various ages curiously loom over everyone, get in the way trying to see what’s in each crate, and startle the soldiers unloading crates, it can quickly become a headache.

Olmosk doesn’t mind being part of the transport teams that rotate deliveries. It’s more peaceful overall than being on the battlefield. It doesn’t pay quite as much in the Fievegal’s ‘felarc’ currency, which can be exchanged for almost anything for sale that a person might want within the Fievegal, but it does still pay among the best of jobs available to relatively unskilled workers, especially those who were all but literally raised to be swordfodder.

But, he notices the eldest of the princesses that came outside speaking with Norjuyt, one of Dante Five’s sappers; a sabotage and sneak-attack specialist. He points towards Olmosk, and all twelve of the Princesses look.

“You tail-eared, foot-handed, bough-breaking… I’ll remember this, you knot-furred oaf.”

No one overhears his grumbling as Olmosk straightens his posture, awaiting the small procession of insectoid beings. As far as rank goes, the transport teams were instructed to treat them with respect, but that they aren’t ‘true’ royalty, because it is simply the structure of their hive, which equates to a single major nobles estate. This means, if the Queen is to be treated as a noble Lady, then her daughters are important, but not necessarily more than that.

Daniel trusts the away teams to operate on “common sense levels of respect”, meaning a salute or a bow are often plenty as long as the officers make a good-faith effort to be ambassadors of the Fievegal.

Basically, Olmosk just has to humor the Princesses with conversation, and as long as he isn’t overly rude to them, he doesn’t have to treat them like the Mikadresselle or anyone else the dattakoriens would revere.

“Princesses, a pleasure to meet you directly. I am Commander Olmosk, leader of the Dante Five platoon.”

The eldest princess does her best to speak, carefully and quietly, having used the language spell to become fluent, but needing to actually practice muscle control to make the sounds correctly.

“Greetings to Commander. Apologies for disturb.”

Olmosk dips his head approvingly, saying gently, “It was no real trouble. I hope no one was overly rude to you.”

“No rudeness at all. If we may request?”

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t addressed any of the princesses before, but he knows how they speak, and that her improper grammar is only to minimize the painstaking speech that hits irritating peaks for the feline members of the combined squad. “Please do,” replies Olmosk respectfully.

The other princesses likely understand because of the same magic, but it’s extremely difficult for them to speak, so it falls to the eldest, who has made the effort. “Thank you. Mother requests speak.”

Olmosk sighs. He has spoken to the Queen. Generally, language magic needs to be recast every so often to maintain effectiveness, and it just so happens that Olmosk’s has worn off. “I would, truly, but we don’t have a mage capable of the language spell that lets me understand you, and I doubt her Majesty wants to speak through you the whole time.”

“I cast,” replies the Princess. She starts speaking as she bows her head, focusing, and Olmosk can feel the tell-tale tickle of nearby mana being gathered. More than that, he can feel the momentary relief of escape evaporate.

The Hive is warm, hot even, but it stinks. It’s not entirely the smell of rot, but more like the excess amount of eggs and the process of producing them combining over time.

But, Olmosk has a job to do, and he sighs. Fortunately, the Emperor understands their plight, so he provided a solution; partial helmets that feed air from wind-crystals directly to one’s face, with slots cut in the front so their voices still carry, but the mask keeps mostly-fresh air inside. It’s not “safe” for poison fog, smoke, or diving, but it is a relief when dealing with foul smells.

The Princess finishes the spell, and she asks in her own, buzzing language, “[You can understand me, yes?]”

“Yes,” replies Olmosk. Just as the Princess and Queen struggle to form the sounds for Eastern Imperial Trade, or even the common language of the former Covenant, Olmosk will likely never be able to make the series of buzzes, clicks, and hums that form their language.

Thank the spirits for magic, thinks the dattakorien to himself. That, or curse it since I didn’t really want to do this…

He follows the Princesses into the hive, studying the silent guardian soldiers standing guard at the entrance, both on the ground and lined on the walls above it, ready to pounce if need be. It’s unnerving, because the poison the Selkethia soldiers use in their spines is apparently effective against dragons, and in seconds no less. Ironically, the entirety of Grendel Two and Dante Five would fall instantly before being able to effectively defend themselves if the Selkethia were to attack. But, they understand the ‘hivemind’ concept that reinforcements will come in merciless force if that were to happen, and among them are the creatures that razed the various hive-supporting structures that make a sort of ‘town’ for the Selkethia in mere moments.

And, they have no idea how terrifying the true power of the Fievegal can be.

Olmosk smirks a little dryly as his thoughts drift to the strange human standing atop the Fievegal as a sort of unreachable deity himself, in direct contrast to his very nature. He has made the Fievegal and anyone that joins it feel invincible, but only a fool believes so.

As he enters, Olmosk dons his air mask to endure the smell, and he looks around. The hive is thriving since the Fievegal’s visit. The ‘starvers’ were exterminated, and now there is plenty of food being delivered, ramping up due to the increasing population, while the hive is expanding both into the ground and around the surface. They seem to be worried about trying to prevent another attack from a superior force like Yaulwembor and Neith, but the dattakorien doubts it would make much of a difference. Not as long as the Harbinger of Calamity exists. Knowing him, the Fiendbreakers would be just the ‘opening salvo’ if he ever needed to strike a secure underground bunker.

Their best plan would have been to have never been discovered in the first place. Though, at this point, they could also request that the Fievegal cut ties, and as long as they never attack the Fievegal again, they could simply ‘vanish’. But, they don’t have the soil or forests to sustain themselves on this island anymore. It’s possible multiple hives once existed here, but as far as anyone knows, the rest are gone.

Olmosk bows his head politely when he reaches the position in front of the Queen’s curtain; which she keeps closed for the convenience of the others to be able to sleep, and to hide where her head is, because she can survive and regenerate from almost anything else, and she needs to survive an initial attack to be able to command her soldiers to the last.

Having seen her a few times, Olmosk knows where her head level is, and a sweep from the assault rifle slung across his back would likely be enough, even if he takes a hit and dies to the soldier poison.

“Your Majesty, it has been some time.”

“[Greetings Commander Olmosk. Thank you for coming, and thank you deeply for the continued generosity and forgiveness of the Fievegal.]” She shifts behind the curtain, which wavers from the sheer mass of insectoid exoskeleton and flesh that moves causing a small breeze. She is bowing respectfully, and all of the drones, workers, and Princesses around them bow reverently. It’s extremely awkward, especially because it is an excellent disarming tactic, but Olmosk knows his family will be well-taken care of by the Fievegal if anything happens, and his death would be avenged with unimaginable fire.

“I’ll relay your thanks to the Emperor Daniel and Empress Hekate. Rest assured. If that is all, I’ll excuse…”

“[Not all, if you will listen, please…]”

Olmosk stops, having genuinely thought she just wanted to thank him once more. “Uh, sure. Please, go ahead.”

“[Thank you. I have a request, though I know it may cause… friction.]” She moves her arm, which is partially visible through the curtain as a shadow.

The eldest Princess steps forward, and she ‘kneels’ down onto her abdomen and bows before Olmosk.

“[The Fievegal swarm is aware of the struggles our Swarm has faced in the past, so I will not elaborate unnecessarily on what has already been done. However, this one is very rapidly approaching the age of rite. It is a time when she must challenge for the right to take over the hive. However, even as I may look at present, I am in the prime of my life as a Queen. I will not lose. Though I have spoken it as if to be my request, the request originates from the princess before you.]”

Something odd has surrounded Olmosk, and he looks around calmly and subtly with his eyes.

The entire hive is dead silent.

The entire hive.

Even when having a serious discussion, there has always been a low-level buzz of ‘gossip’. But now, there’s a cold edge to the air that is not from the winter winds outside.

Olmosk has never believed in the “aura” of bloodlust or animosity that can come from an intangible source. Dattakorien instincts are sharp; probably rivaled only by the shenwulves of the east for sheer ‘magic’ of their ability to detect things out of place, even inexplicably, without any magic usage or inherent skills. But, it is an instinct. Something as primal as recognizing the smell of even a droplet of water during a drought or knowing when a predator is near simply because of the tiniest shift in sound.

That said, there is such a thing as animosity in sapient beings, and even animals and monsters can feel vengeful anger or even disgust and hate. So, while he doesn’t believe in some sort of aura flowing through the air, this utter silence is one of animosity.

“[You detect it, don’t you? Your senses are keen, but I assure you, this distaste is not directed towards you,]” speaks the Queen.

“[I am a coward, and I did not wish to fight our Queen. I… wish to live.]”

No one outbursts. No one screams. No one throws anything at her, nor do they call her a coward.

But, then, as noisy as the Selkethia are, perhaps silence is the true scorn; being cut off from her family even as they surround her. It’s not the same as a ‘family’ as the dattakorien understands it; or perhaps it is. It’s difficult to hate someone without having some sort of feelings about them in the first place. Being so completely ignored is almost worse just to think about, let alone witness happening to a creature so used to being social in some capacity almost every second of the day.

Olmosk is quiet for a moment, and he asks sincerely, “So, is this meant as some kind of gesture towards us? Do you intend to slay her if I refuse?”

“[No. I will not have to. If she cannot defeat me, she will be cast out, and what happens to her is up to her.]”

Which is as good as dying on this island right now, since they’ve pretty much wiped out everyone but a few kobold villages that are too remote for them to reach… for now.

The Princess speaks, “[I will serve the Fievegal swarm with devotion.]”

“I’m a little confused right now. My understanding is that the Fievegal is planning to accept the Selkethia’s settlement on the main continent once preparations for transport can be made.”

“[Indeed,]” replies the Queen. “[But, I intended to send the youngest and strongest, as it will be difficult for the others to adjust to a new environment without my connection. If you take this one, I cannot guarantee she will not become a liability to the Fievegal. But, if you do not take her, I ask the Fievegal swarm not to concern themselves with what happens after.]”

Wet spirit of rot… Damn it…

Olmosk pitches his head back in exasperation. He can’t speak for the Fievegal on something like this, but he can gather more information at least.

“I have to speak to my Swarm Queen before I answer, which I will do when I return to the shuttle. But, I need to ask some more things to understand. If we take her, and she dies, do you intend to become our enemies?”

“[No. She is already…]” A word that doesn’t translate buzzes through the air, and there’s a harshness to it that makes the Princess shrink a little in front of Olmosk. Whatever it is, it’s some kind of insult naming her a coward, like a craven or something. “[As such, she is already severed, with her only option to leave or to challenge me.]”

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“And, if she were to win whatever this challenge is, would the others obey her?” Olmosk looks around. The silent hive continues to be unnerving, because there is no noise coming from the other Selkethia. “And, for that matter, if we take her, will this animosity be directed towards us?”

“[The simplest answer? Even if she were to best me now, having made such a request of me, she would likely be challenged immediately by the next. And then the next. For a new Queen…]”

“I get it. Then, the animosity?”

“[What you feel is not what you consider hatred. She is severed. Nothing more. To speak in her presence would be to treat her as a sister. Even if you take her far away, she ceases to be in our thoughts. I will still send those I intended to send as well, but I request their safety be taken seriously by the Fievegal swarm, as I will still be connected to them.]”

This is such a damn mess… “Fine,” states the dattakorien. “Give me a few minutes to contact our hivemind and get an official answer. Please don’t kill her in the meantime.”

“[She was permitted the rest of this day to behave as sister, and it was unknown to the rest until I spoke it just now. She will not be killed, but she will not be permitted to food any longer while I still rule.]”

I hate how it sounds cruel, but I understand… Killing her should be easy enough, but if the others aren’t automatically forced to obey, then it’s a useless endeavor. Plus, if it’s in their blood to do so…

Olmosk sighs. “With your permission, may I take her outside now?”

“[You may do as you wish. Just know that we will not attempt to execute her or your pettyswarm. She either leaves or challenges me. Those are her options. If she tries to return by force, she dies.]”

Olmosk nods. “Alright. I’ll have an answer in a few minutes. I thank you for your patience with me.”

“[I also thank you for considering this request. Though it is unfavorable for the one making the request, the urge to live is understandable.]”

Considering how callous she is, it seems the Queen isn’t cowardly or afraid of being killed. She is simply living as their kind do.

“Let’s go,” states Olmosk. He heads back outside where the others have finished unloading the cargo, which is being further moved to various storage areas by the Queen’s workers, all while soldiers menacingly watch like silent living statues.

“About time,” remarks Norjuyt playfully. He does, of course, notice the giant princess following Olmosk subserviently, as if she’s already his slave, but she is an ally and peaceful, and the dattakoriens are used to seeing the dragons and Yaulwembor in battle in various capacities.

Not to mention the Iron Drakes and the P3 Porcupines.

“{I hate you,}” grumbles Olmosk in the datakorien tongue this time.

This causes Norjuyt to flinch and whine in Eastern Imperial Trade, “Wait! What’d I do!?”

Olmosk ignores him as he waves over Plag, the goblin radio operator of Grendel Two, and he makes his report to the Citadel.

It does amaze him how a simple, compact device that even a goblin can carry around can let anyone communicate with the Citadel, thousands of miles away as it is, but it’s also why Olmosk has never once regretted joining the Fievegal and serving in their army.

Even as he reports the situation with the exiled ‘coward’ princess, his belly is full, his wife and children are in a comfortable home with employment that rewards his wife while favoring her needs at home, and a continuous influx of money lets them buy luxury goods as if they were some up-and-coming king and queen of their own small domain.

And, something even more relieving about being a soldier of the Fievegal is exactly what he’s doing right now; passing major problems up the chain of command.

***

Light splits the darkness, and a strange sensation washes all around. Color is filling the light and giving life to every inch of the environment. It’s a little painful, but that’s possibly what’s strange about it.

Pain? But… I haven’t felt pain in…

She gasps.

Her mind starts to race, and she does what she once thought she’d never be able to do again.

She lifts her left hand up over her face, and in direct response to the command, a hand moves in to block some of the light above, letting stray beams through.

“I… can’t believe it…”

“I’m working on my next cringe nickname…” starts a male voice that startles her.

She flinches as she looks to her right to the source of the voice, and she nearly recoils in terror.

A giant is looking at her, laying his chin on his forearms while a smaller giant with faintly green skin, brown eyes, and brown pigtails is also looking down at her curiously. Directly behind his face, another giant is draped across his shoulders, like he has a second head, but this one has black hair, amber eyes, and big, triangular, fox-like ears.

Though she has a lot to catch up on, it’s Daniel, Hekate, and Tekten, and she is on a bed that is somehow titanic compared to her.

Daniel finishes his joke, “‘Goddess Collector’.”

“Bruh…” grunts a woman’s voice from a little further away, and the tiny woman has the ability to sit up and look.

A fair number of people are gathered in the room, and Zuzia is the one who just spoke. She, too, is giant, even though she’s across the room from them.

“No disrespect intended to your God,” retorts Daniel. “They’re goddesses to me, not just angels.”

“Where am I?” asks Kaeralegier, hearing her own voice for the first time in more than a thousand years.

Hekate replies, “You’re in Daniel’s room right now. You’ve been asleep for twenty years.”

“What!?” snaps the small woman, while the others chuckle. She realizes it quickly when the fact that Tekten is still a toddler starts to sink in.

Daniel suddenly reaches over her, and she flinches, but when she looks, she sees why.

Jieka, who was on her left side, crawled close and tried to grab Kaeralegier. Daniel holds her back as she fusses, “Daddy! Jieka want to pway!”

“She’s not a toy, Jieka. This is Kaera. She is Daddy’s very precious friend.”

“Pweshis fwend?”

“Yes. So, please be nice to her, like you are with your sisters and brothers, alright?”

“Okay,” replies the baby goblin as she plops down onto her posterior to watch.

“Why… Why am I tiny?” asks Kaeralegier, turning her focus to Daniel as he retreats his arm, which is looming over her.

“I was hoping you could explain that,” replies Daniel. “I heard your voice saying that you ‘didn’t know what to be’, but… I assumed this was probably your true form. However, Ryukana said that’s not true.”

The mentioned goddess is seated on an edge of the bed further away, and she replies in agreement, “Your appearance is largely the same as I knew you, and though our appearances are rather flexible, it seemed a peculiar choice for you to become so small… and to sprout wings.”

Kaeralegier looks at herself. She has a build like she would expect; essentially human, as many of the world manager gods and goddesses are, simply because it is easiest for interacting with the typical race that is common between many of the worlds across various realms. Though, not all of them are structurally the same as Earth humans, they are functionally similar in how the world managers have often steered their evolution, not to mention instances of parallel worlds that are largely identical anyways.

But, as Ryukana mentioned, there are some silky-soft appendages coming from her back that drape around her like robes or a blanket, but are, in fact, attached to her.

And, with just a little bit of focus, she can make them rise and spread like proper wings, though they don’t match the typical appearance of a butterfly or dragonfly.

But, she also notices that she is only covered at all by a handkerchief right now, and she pulls it up to protect herself.

“I see…”

“Do you have any ideas why?” asks Daniel gently. “Did the face say anything to you?”

“Face? What face?”

Hekate explains, “Daniel says he saw a face when he was in some strange void place with you, but no one else saw it. Ryukana and Amalaskae included.”

Kaeralegier is a little concerned, and she shakes her head. “A-... Did you… get hurt?”

Daniel laughs. “No. I’m fine.”

“Try using magic,” suggests Treia, who slides her own chair up next to where Daniel is.

Kaeralegier flexes her hand, and she can easily feel her usual energy moving within her. If anything, it’s about as strong as all of the energy she had while she was still bound to Nemaisol, and her only focus was being the spirit of the sword.

She creates a small star out of ice, and it grows with ease into a tiny figurine.

The tiny goddess remarks, “I remember… thinking about a lot of things… About what… would make me useful…”

“Being a goddess, er, uh, an angel would be pretty useful on their own,” jokes Treia, and the others chuckle as well.

She smiles at this, since she does have a pretty good sense of humor, typically. But, it’s still strange.

Then again, she looks to a particularly powerful feeling part of the room where a predatory woman who can’t normally speak is lounging with a bored expression. Yaulwembor couldn’t care less about what’s going on, but she also gave everyone quite a fright when she took on her humanoid form.

Kaeralegier murmurs, “I wanted to be as powerful as I could, but… also… I liked being readily available, so I thought… ‘Maybe it’s not so bad to be small enough to be carried by Daniel with ease. To be able to help and not get in the way.’ Just like…” Her eyes tilt to Daniel’s scarf, and as if summoned by being talked about, Lucy peeks her head out. But, she notices that Hekate looks at her, and she immediately disappears back into the scarf.

Daniel manages a warm laugh, and he offers his palm for Kaeralegier to stand on. She smiles and steps onto his palm, allowing Daniel to lift her up to talk at the same level. “Well, you’re pretty much snack size now. But, don’t feel like you have to do anything right now. Rest, and if you want to try to change your form again…”

Kaeralegier holds her hand up to stop Daniel, since he’s trying to be accommodating.

Too accommodating for her tastes.

“I appreciate it, Daniel. But, if this won’t bother you, I don’t mind being a quiet little angel on your shoulder.”

“An evil angel, right?” jokes Hekate before cackling deviously.

Kaeralegier points at her with a grin. “Whichever one Daniel needs me to be at the time.” The two then laugh wickedly together.

“S-So, then, y-you’re happy staying here?” This voice is the one who has been more nervous than anyone about Kaeralegier’s restoration, but not for the same reason as anyone else.

Kaeralegier turns on Daniel’s palm to look at her dual-tone-haired junior, and she says with the most serious face she has ever worn. “What? Of course I’m taking my job back. Thanks for all your work up to today.”

No one, not even Kaeralegier, could actually predict what happens next.

As if that was the final string being cut on a marionette, Amalaskae collapses, fainting. Zuzia manages to lunge close and catch her, and Kaeralegier grimaces.

She says apologetically, “I… genuinely didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I didn’t think it could happen,” replies Treia.

Daniel replies to curtail the teasing, since Amalaskae is a goddess as well, even if she’s far more human and clumsy than one would likely expect. “She has been wound pretty tight from the moment we said we’d be restoring you. Will she be alright, Ryukana?”

“Yes,” replies the violet-haired goddess. “Though, if I may, can we move her to the bed so she can rest?”

“Of course,” replies Daniel. He lifts Kaeralegier to his shoulder, and she hops on. Hekate, who is clinging to his back, switches her face to be able to look at her while Daniel picks up Jieka and Tekten.

“You’re really pretty for a lady that was stuck in a sword,” remarks Hekate seriously.

“Oh! Thanks, Hekate!” Kaeralegier still has the handkerchief wrapped around herself, and she dances in a small circle.

However, it wasn’t merely a compliment Hekate was making, as evidenced by her hawk-like stare at the tiny former-goddess.

“She’s really pretty for a lady that was stuck in a sword, isn’t she Daniel?”

Daniel laughs, having expected the follow-up question.

“If you want to be stuck in a sword, then you can be really pretty for a lady stuck in a sword as well,” jokes the mechanic dryly.

Hekate cries out, “Graaaahhhh!” as she shakes Daniel with her body weight, which causes Jieka and Tekten to laugh and join in trying to shake Daniel with their body weight while he holds them. “Gwaaaahhh!” cheers Jieka as she holds Daniel’s shirt and jerks herself back and forth. In contrast, because she’s afraid of falling, Tekten simply tugs up and down on Daniel’s shirt where she’s clinging to it.

“Alright, if everyone is ready, let’s go see if we can get connected to Sundenelle,” starts Daniel, ignoring the three acting like children.

“Wait!” says Hekate as she freezes instantly, immediately returning to her normal composure, but not releasing Daniel.

“You, Kaeralegier! Time to keep our agreement. Heh heh heh heh heh!”

“Hekate,” starts Daniel to try to distract her. He doesn’t believe that Kaeralegier can simply adjust their physical age to whatever she wants, but even if she does, it doesn’t answer the purpose of making Hekate wait.

“What agreement?” asks Kaeralegier.

This causes Hekate to freeze solid and her ears and tail go rigid.

“Th-The agreement to make me and Daniel eighteen.”

Kaeralegier cleans her ear a little rudely with her pinkie finger, saying with a cold and bored tone, “I never agreed to that.”

“B-But you said…!”

“I said I’d turn Daniel’s face upside down and make you eighteen as a threat directed at him. Plus, look at me? Do you think I actually have the power to do all that now?” She snaps her fingers a couple of times, and nothing apparent happens. She shrugs, still keeping the handkerchief pinned around her body to keep herself covered. “See? I can’t even make myself clothes. So, chop-chop, Daniel! Make me clothes like one of your French girls.”

“What’s a French girl!?” snaps Hekate, while Zuzia is the only one who understands and lets out a chuckle.

“Kaeralegier,” calls out Ryukana, and Daniel faces her, while the tiny goddess pivots to face her as well. Ryukana approaches them, and she smiles. “I’m glad that you’ve been restored. But, I should warn you…” ℴ

“I’m mortal, now,” states Kaeralegier. She smiles sincerely, crossing her arms together as she leans against Daniel’s cheek. “I know. And, if I live ten years or ten thousand, I will cherish this time, my friends, and I will live.” Kaeralegier’s smile spreads into a sunny grin. “I’ll probably make a lot of mistakes, so I hope you’ll watch over me as well.”

Ryukana smiles gently. “Daniel and Hekate are my cherished friends as well, now, even if I am still bound by the rules you have been freed from.”

“Do you… wish to be free as well?” asks Zuzia gently.

Ryukana turns her gentle expression to the Polish brunette. “Perhaps ‘free’ isn’t the right word. I also made mistakes, and my role here as observer and balance against Daniel and Hekate’s combined power are the reward for those mistakes; neither good nor bad, because I cherish the wisdom of the Almighty. But, if I grow too attached and act beyond what I am permitted to do so, which I am certain Amalaskae and I have come very close to in dealing with you, Zuzia, then I am prone to either being recalled or worse. Sometimes, the wisdom of God is not meant to be understood, but to be experienced. And, I believe that is what my lessons have come to be, both in my mistakes with Daniel, and even now, in the new life Kaeralegier is starting today.”

“Just don’t try to summon me to another world when I turn out to be an amazing heroine,” jokes Kaeralegier as she drops to a seated position on Daniel’s shoulder. “‘Cause, I’m going to be the Pixie Empress of the Fievegal. Hahahahahaha!”

“Daniel, I’m going to eat her,” retorts Hekate with an icy coldness to her voice, staring down the tiny former-goddess with wide, unblinking eyes. “I bet I’ll get a lot stronger if I eat her.”

“No cannibalism on my watch,” retorts Daniel. “Or, whatever it is when sapient species eat each other.”

Zuzia asks, returning to task, “Back to serious topics, Daniel, you’re going to try to meet with Sundenelle right now, right? As in, going there?”

“No,” replies Daniel. “We’ll communicate through magic.”

The Polish Grand Princess scrunches her face, and Daniel asks, “You think we’ll be eavesdropped on?”

“I think we’re in hot enough water we shouldn’t chance it,” replies Zuzia. “I know Sundenelle has a lot of Imperial matters to catch up on, and if Yaulander is already looking for golems, all the more reason to be cautious with her above all others, right? I mean, I could hammer away all day how much I dislike your little harem…”

“Yesss,” hisses Hekate from his back like a giddy viper, suddenly revived from her betrayal by Kaeralegier. “Hammer away all you wish. Convince Daniel to belong to me. Yessss.”

This causes Zuzia’s thoughts to hitch, since Hekate is a whole separate issue for her. But, she continues, “But, if we are playing the game of ‘uniting the Empire and the Fievegal through marriage’, she’s probably one of the most crucial people in your harem, right?”

Again, Hekate’s ears go rigid as her eyes glass over once more.

“If we’re going to visit the Empire, though, then we need…”

“Send Neith,” replies Treia. “Or, Sir Larven. He’ll relay the message faithfully, and we can send him with a teleport pack to return quickly.”

Daniel thinks, and Hekate, having resumed being serious, finally, replies, “It does sound like a good plan… You said yourself we need to be careful about giving Yaulander too much to use against us.”

Daniel nods. “We’ll send Neith with a message and see what Sundenelle wants to do from there. Perhaps we can even ‘coincidentally’ run into each other near Urflasdat or the trading outpost we’re setting up on the southern edge of the Twilight crater.”

Zuzia nods. “Sounds good to me.”

***