Bread tasted like bread. A part of Melmarc was disappointed to find out as he took another bite of his bread. He’d been expecting things to be different, in a manner, even if a little bit. It felt like starving for so long and looking forward to eat an tire buffet just to get full after a few spoons.
He placed his half eaten slice of bread on the small tray beside him and stared at the interface in front of him.
[Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]
[Class: Faker – Call of The Wild (Mastery -08.19%)]
[Rank: B]
[Growth Potential: Unranked]
[Existential Designation: August Intruder +3% mastery to all skills]
Skills
[Knowledge is Power (Mastery 19.99%)]
The Gifted releases a burst of mana that comes back to them as information
[Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 16.84%)]
Conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power grants +1.5 increase to all stats for eight minutes and a potential status buff based on number of life forms detected.
[Rings of Saturn (Mastery 19.93%)]
The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it.
[Secrecy (Mastery 14.61%)]
The Gifted secures an area of their choice in a bubble of mana that traps sounds from escaping and obscures outside sight.
Perks
[Optimum Existence (03.19%)]
The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.
Stats
[Agility 4, Balance 6, Mental 3, Mana 5, Strength 5, Dexterity 3, Accuracy 3, Speed 2]
Traits
[Calculating…]
[Total EP 6503]
...
[Dear Melmarc Jay Lockwood, you have a pending reward from your last personal quest.]
[Pending reward: 5% Mastery]
[Would you like to claim your reward?]
[Y/N?]
Melmarc felt underwhelmed by his stats. With all the things he had been through recently, it was easy to forget that his stats were actually normal for his class and rank, maybe a little above normal. Seeing the single digits, however, belittled it.
A rank classes are the ones with double digit stats, he reminded himself.
As for how he intended to use the reward, while Melmarc wasn’t sure of what he wanted to use it on, he was certain of what he wasn’t going to use it on.
[Knowledge is Power] is out of the way, he thought. There was no point using the reward on it since it was just a step away from reaching twenty percent mastery.
Not for the first time, he was impressed by his growth speed. Naymond did insinuate that I had a high growth potential.
Melmarc also wasn’t going to use the reward on [Rings of Saturn]. At least he didn’t see any reason to. For one reason, it was in the same category as [Knowledge is Power]—very close to twenty percent. For another reason, the skill was still confusing him. He’d raised it past ten percent and still hadn’t gotten a skill evolution or an option for another skill.
What if it doesn’t evolve at all? He asked himself, frowning. That will just be stupid.
He highly doubted it. It just didn’t make sense to him. What was the point of a skill that didn’t evolve?
You have a skill that didn’t evolve or give you an alternative at ten percent, he told himself. At this point, anything can happen.
That much was true. At this point, he didn’t know what rules still applied and what rules did not. He was also no longer simply a Gifted. He had perks now, something he’d never heard of before. Then there was [EP]…
And don’t forget about your pending trait.
Letting out a sigh, Melmarc moved through his interface, leaving the details pending. It took him only a moment to realize that there was no reason for him to scroll through his interface for what he wanted.
He took another bite from his slice of bread, finishing the slice. Once he was done with that, he thought of his [EP] and its effects on his stats and mastery.
A new notification popped up.
[EP 6503]
[1 stat point = 200 EP]
[1% Mastery = 250 EP]
Melmarc’s brows furrowed as his mind did the math. He had thirty-two stat points or twenty six percent of mastery to work with.
It felt surreal.
In the blink of an eye I can become very powerful.
If he was to spread it between his current stats he would be able to have at least one stat in the double digits. As a new B-rank Gifted, he would be considered powerful.
Or I could invest it into skill mastery. Melmarc rubbed his jaw in thought. Or split it between the two.
Upping the mastery of his skills will also increase some of his stats as well as grant him points in new ones, but he wouldn’t get to choose which ones. But did it really matter? What mattered was that he was getting stronger.
Right?
“You look like someone who’s wondering why their shit won’t flush.”
Melmarc was ripped from his revelry as a memory of when he had once experienced such a thing flashed through his head. It disrupted his thoughts very harshly.
“Shut up, Ark,” he muttered as he looked up at his brother.
It was late into the morning, the afternoon growing ever closer. Melmarc was seated at the dining table with his empty plate that had once held his slices of bread in front of him. Beside the plate was a cup of cold beverage.
Uncle Dorthna was seated in the living room not paying attention to whatever was showing on the television.
Ark stood in front of Melmarc in a simple black vest that was a little too tight. He looked bigger now, muscular. Spitfire rested on top of his head, too big for it.
Melmarc made a show of looking at the creature. “Doesn’t your neck hurt?”
“Why?” Ark asked.
“Well,” Melmarc gestured at Spitfire. “Spitfire’s like twice its size, and it’s wrapped itself up a little uncomfortably on your head.”
Ark raised a finger to the demon and scratched it under the jaw. “Are you uncomfortable?”
Spitfire ignored him. It didn’t even move its head to acknowledge the fact that he was scratching his jaw. Ark let out a sigh.
“I already explained why we couldn’t go out,” he said in an apologetic tone. “I promise we’ll find the time to go out again. I want to go out too, you know.”
Melmarc was confused. “You want to go out? I don’t get it.”
“Spitfire wanted to go out last night.” Ark dropped his hand to return his attention to Melmarc, moving one of the dining chairs so that he could sit down. “I couldn’t just up and leave the house, so now he’s grumbling.”
Once upon a time, Ark spoke to Spitfire like someone talking to a pet. Now he talked to it as if it actually understood him, in a normal voice and no exaggerated inflections.
Melmarc didn’t know if he was supposed to be bothered by it or not.
“Also,” Ark added, reaching for the cup on the table and Melmarc let him take it. Ark took a sip then frowned. “Too sweet. As I was saying. Uncle Dorthna said I shouldn’t always give him what he wants, so here we are.”
Spitfire vibrated very slightly and briefly on top of Melmarc. The action was clearly one of disagreement and displeasure. It was—
Melmarc froze.
His eyes narrowed on Spitfire and Ark’s narrowed on him.
“What’s up?” Ark asked, taking another sip of the too sweet beverage and frowned once more. “You look… confused and worried.”
“Spitfire actually understands you,” Melmarc said, matter of fact.
More important was the fact that he’d been able to read its expression, find meaning in its action with complete certainty.
Like with Veebee.
“I know.” Ark nodded. “Why else will I be talking to it?”
Melmarc cocked a brow. “People talk to their dogs, Ark.”
Spitfire’s head snapped up and its eyes sharpened on Melmarc. He sensed a threat in them, a threat born from annoyance instead of anger. It felt harmless, though, like a child suddenly annoyed by something their uncle or aunty said.
Curious, Melmarc met its gaze. If it truly understood him, then it was probably offended by what he had said. However, he was curious about the threat. How would it react to him not backing down.
Spitfire’s annoyance switched to sadness, and Melmarc suddenly felt bad about what he’d said. It placed its head back on its arms, turning its attention away from Melmarc.
Melmarc let out a sigh. Nothing had ever annoyed Veebee. At best, it always seemed very curious about anything he did.
And Spitfire is not Veebee. You were also nicer to Veebee.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Ark shrugged. “It happens, though, so I don’t really mind.”
“What’s that?”
“People thinking of Spitfire as something of a pet,” Ark said.
Melmarc shook his head. “Hold up, who said I was apologizing to you? I was talking to Spitfire.”
Ark looked at him through narrowed lids. “Really?” His expression turned puzzled and he reached up to place a hand on the demon’s head. After a second or two, he brought his hand back down. “Spitfire says go fuck yourself.”
“Spitfire did not say that.”
Ark smirked. “Trust me, he did. He’s got quite the array of cuss words that you wouldn’t believe.”
Melmarc paused. What were the chances that Ark wasn’t actually pulling his legs? But if Spitfire could speak telepathically—because that was the only possibility he could see right now—then how long had Ark had its voice in his head.
A wrinkle creased Melmarc’s forehead as he thought about it. Also, what kind of things did Spitfire actually say? Apart from the cuss words, obviously.
Did it give Ark important pieces of information?
Did it—
“The thing can’t speak,” Dorthna’s voice came from the living room, abrupt and simple. “Stop trying to confuse your brother, Ark.”
Melmarc frowned.
“In my defense,” Ark said, “it was just too easy.”
Wait, he was lying? Melmarc thought, confused. How?
“Ark.”
Ark’s attention returned to him. “What’s up?”
“Lie to me.”
“Uhm…” Ark looked confused. “Why? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll always be happy to lie to you. Just want to know what’s special about this one.”
“Just lie to me.”
“The sky is pink.”
Dissonant.
There it was. The skill was still working, whatever it was. It left Melmarc confused as to how Ark had lied about Spitfire being able to talk without triggering the skill.
Dorthna walked into the dining area. “I see you’ve got your dad’s trait.”
Ark looked at him. “Dad’s trait? What’s that?”
Dorthna didn’t answer him, instead, he tilted his head to the side in contemplation. “Any idea how much of it you have, Mel?”
Melmarc shook his head. “I’m not even sure I know what you mean.”
“Have new things been happening to you since you entered the portal or since your father found you?” Dorthna pulled a chair out and sat on it. He was positioned on the other end of the table, directly opposite Melmarc.
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“I can tell when a person is lying,” Melmarc said. “Is that what you’re talking about?”
“Yes and no,” Dorthna answered.
Ark looked between the both of them. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes,” Dorthna explained, “because that’s what I’m talking about. No, because Mel can’t tell when a person is lying.”
Melmarc had always suspected that that was the case, but it was just easier to think of it as someone lying.
“What you can do,” Dorthna continued, “is detect disharmony or dissonance. If Ark had said that the sky was blue but believed that it was pink, your trait would still flag it.”
“So dad can’t tell when you’re lying?” Melmarc asked.
“Oh, your dad definitely can,” Dorthna chuckled. “He’s been mad for so long that he can tell when something as insignificant as a fly is lying.”
Ark laughed. “The exaggeration is strong. Dad must be really good, then.”
Melmarc gave him a look. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know that their dad could tell when someone was lying. It had taken them a lot of lies growing up to know that their dad was not the parent you lied to.
Dorthna shook his head at Ark . “No exaggeration, kid. Your dad can tell when a fly is lying. And believe me, flies lie. Everything has harmony, and any form of disharmony, intentional or unintentional is something your dad can tell.”
“So, if Ark says the sky is blue but he believes that it’s pink what happens with dad?” Melmarc asked.
Uncle Dorthna stretched and took Melmarc’s cup from where it was in front of Ark. He tilted it towards him ever so slightly.
“It’s cold chocolate,” Ark said.
Uncle Dorthna left the cup with a frown. The only thing they’d ever seen their uncle drink was cold or hot water. Nothing else.
“Your dad will be able to tell that Ark believes that the sky is pink but the sky is actually blue,” Dorthna said, returning to their conversation. “It’s still disharmony, just on a grander scale than you’re capable of. If you’re learning two plus two, that level of disharmony is two square minus four square.”
“Oh.” Melmarc paused. “Wait, why are you telling us this now?”
“What do you mean?” Dorthna asked.
Ark rubbed his jaw in thought. “You’re right, Mel. Uncle Dorthna, you never tell us anything about mom or dad that doesn’t have anything to do with them being our parents. You say nothing about their jobs or what their classes are. The other day I asked you about their rank and you said, and I quote, ‘It’s none of my business.’”
Dorthna shrugged. “Because it’s none of my business. Anyway…” he returned his attention to Melamarc. “The reason you couldn’t tell he was lying was because I don’t think you can notice intent of disharmony.”
“What’s that?” Melmarc asked.
Dorthna looked at Spitfire but spoke to him. “It’s when someone uses the truth of a situation to reply another situation simply because of the existent disharmony.”
“So, he’s not necessarily lying,” Melmarc said slowly, his mind piecing it together. “He’s just generalizing and living me to make my assumptions?”
Dorthna made a surprised face, grunting in surprise as well. “I’m surprised you got that.”
“Mel’s only a little stupid when it comes to math,” Ark joked.
He wasn’t entirely wrong, though. Melmarc hated calculations.
“So, Spitfire does talk to him somehow,” Melmarc said. “Just not verbally, like I thought.”
Dorthna tapped a finger against the wooden table. “Bingo. It talks to him telepathically. Do you know any being that talks telepathically? Without moving its mouth.”
Melmarc only needed a moment to think before a name came to mind. Veebee?
“And don’t lie,” Uncle Dorthna said. “I’m not a fan of it, and I can spot it almost as easily as your dad.”
Melmarc’s brows furrowed in surprise. He’s like dad.
“I am not like your father,” Uncle Dorthna said. “I’m not mad.”
“Dad’s really not mad, though,” Ark said. “Just… different.”
Dorthna raised a quizzical brow. “Your dad is the Oath of Madness. Trust me, he’s mad. And it’s not an insult.”
Melmarc thought about how his mind worked whenever he was in the portal and how chaotic it had always been.
If my mind was like that all the time, I’d run mad.
“Back to you, Mel. Any creature come to mind?”
Melmarc nodded. “I met one in the portal. It called itself a Void-beast.”
“What language is that?” Ark asked suddenly. “Are you learning something African or Asian? Wait, is it an [August Intruder] thing?”
“Hush,” Uncle Dorthna shushed him, growing thoughtful. “Well, I’m guessing that was stupid of it. But that also explains the speed.”
“The speed?” Melmarc was confused.
“The speed,” Uncle Dorthna said with a nod. “You became an [August Intruder] too quickly.”
“You knew I was going to become one?” Melmarc asked surprised.
Dorthna shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “You met the criteria at some point. I figured it was inevitable.”
“Wait, so there’s an actual way to become an [August Intruder]?”
“Of course.” Dorthna paused. “Well, there are actually two ways to become one. The rarer of both ways is to be born that way. You were not born that way. You got the second method, which is—”
“Sorry,” Melmarc interrupted politely. “Are you sure you should be telling me?”
“What are you going to do?” Dorthna laughed. “Make more of you?”
“Still here,” Ark interjected. Spitfire couldn’t be bothered on top of his head. “Still don’t understand anything you guys are saying.”
Dorthna paused to give him a thoughtful look before letting out a sigh. “I guess it won’t hurt for you to be a part of this conversation.” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “I’ve always found some of these pesky little things to be annoying. Now the second way to become an [August Intruder] is—did you get that?”
Ark nodded with a smile.
Melmarc’s eyes widened in surprise. “You can just do that? It’s that easy?”
Dorthna snapped his finger at him. “Pay attention to the important thing, Mel. As I was saying, the second way to become an [August Intruder] is to gain a few achievements, which you did. The first is to assimilate with mana from another world separate from yours. The second is to assimilate with raw mana and the third is to become a Gifted. You, dear boy, basically lucked out.”
Melmarc was a little confused. “Sounds simple enough, though.”
“Simple?” Dorthna chuckled. “You have no idea how close you were to dying.”
“But there are already people with contaminated skills, though,” Melmarc pointed out. “You said so yourself.”
“Yes, but they did not perfectly assimilate with the contaminated mana. Honestly, nine point five out of ten people die assimilating mana from another world.”
“Ha!” Ark barked in entertainment. “He called you half a person.”
Dorthna’s eyes slid over to Ark. “Ark.”
“Yes, Uncle D?”
“Don’t make fun of your brother. That’s not a nice thing to do to your host as a guest.” Dorthna turned his attention back to Melmarc. “As I was saying, you were lucky to assimilate not just external mana but raw mana at the same time. The moment you were offered a class, I knew it was inevitable. Then you got the world buffs.”
Melmarc remembered how Uncle Dorthna had stopped him from saying that he’d gotten the [Intruder] debuff when he’d chosen his class. “Is that why you didn’t want me to mention the [Intruder] debuff when I got my class? You didn’t want the others to know?”
“What do you think?”
“I just thought that you didn’t trust my friends,” Melmarc answered. “I thought you felt that they’d turn me in because they’ll mistake me for an actual intruder.”
“That was the reason,” Uncle Dorthna said. “Now, usually, when an [August Intruder] takes your route, it usually takes them at least fifteen years to actually become an [August Intruder]. Your foolish Void-beast sped up the process. Personally, it shouldn’t have done that.”
Generally, Melmarc thought Veebee was nice. A little different—a lot different—but nice.
“Will that cause a problem?” Melmarc asked. “Speeding it up, I mean.”
Uncle Dorthna nodded. “If you became a Delver and actually grew, then your growth would’ve been the catalyst to attaining the [August Intruder] status. I’m guessing you’d have been an S-rank Gifted by then, at least.”
“Woah,” Ark whistled. “So your Unranked growth potential is actually that high? I’m guessing S-rank.”
Melmarc nodded.
“It probably isn’t,” Dorthna disagreed. “What’s your highest mastery right now?”
Melmarc didn’t have to think to answer. “Nineteen.”
“That’s in less than two months.” Dorthna nodded as if he’d expected it. “You’re probably a SS-rank growth potential. Either that or you’re…”
Their uncle frowned but didn’t finish his sentence.
“Or he is?” Ark probed.
Uncle Dorthna waved him aside. “It’s not really important. Also, that’s the one thing you both do not need to know. Anyway, that’s where we’re at. Any questions?”
“Really?” Ark asked, surprised. “We get to ask questions on this?”
“You don’t want to?”
“No, that’s not it,” Ark replied quickly. “It’s just that you usually like to dance around questions concerning the Gifted. And you’re usually kind of vague when you answer. This already felt like Christmas.”
Melmarc moved his attention to Ark. He had a question for his brother.
“Aren’t you surprised about the whole other world thing?” he asked.
Ark shrugged. “Not really.”
“He’s got a demon on his head,” Uncle Dorthna pointed out. “I would be worried if he didn’t already accept the idea of other worlds. Besides, you guys know about Players. It’s not really a far stretch to other worlds being real.”
Melmarc’s fist clenched at the mention of Players. His mind went to the Player in the other world Veebee had taken him to.
Norman.
He would never forget the name.
“You said he was my host and I’m his guest,” Ark said. “How does that work?”
“Spitfire over there has made you a citizen of another world,” Dorthna answered. “Personally, I don’t think it’s a big deal. Meanwhile, your brother here has done the daring thing of claiming ownership of this world, despite how weak he is…”
“I didn’t know that would happen,” Melmarc muttered.
“Which makes the Void-beast that did this to you stupider than I thought.” Dorthna sighed. “That was basically the first thing it should have told you. You don’t do what you did here on another world or your world, unless you are ready to be challenged.”
Melmarc froze. “Challenged?”
“Well, not officially,” Dorthna said. “Only another being like you can challenge you officially. But I’m talking about powerful people. Not all the powerful people on your world will be happy to find out about you. Not all of them will be friendly.”
“Your world?” Ark said, jumping on the words like a dog with a bone. “You’re not from here?”
“I thought that was already self-explanatory.” Dorthna folded his arms over his chest, leaned back on his chair and gave Ark a pointed look. “Technically, you are no longer from here, either.”
“Oh.”
Melmarc found it a little disconcerting to wrap his head around the fact that his brother was no longer from his world.
“So what world is he from?” Melmarc asked.
“Some demon world out there in the cosmos, I guess,” Dorthna answered as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m surprised your friend hasn’t taken you there, yet.”
Ark’s eyes moved up in their socket as if trying to look at Spitfire without tilting his head. The demon gave no reaction.
“It’s a bit tight-lipped about that,” he said after a while.
Dorthna shrugged. “Probably ran away from home. Anyway, don’t feel bad. While your kind is rarer than Melmarc’s, you people don’t really interest me. You’re only rare because of how few demons are in the wider scale of things.”
Ark frowned, then smiled as if he’d just lost his mind. Then he chuckled a little.
“What?” Melmarc asked him.
“I just find it funny, that’s all,” Ark answered, still chuckling. “Last year we were completely… relatively normal kids. Now we’re talking about worlds and runaway demons and an uncle that’s not from this world. The only thing that can top that is if it turns out that Uncle Dorthna’s God.”
The moment the words left his mouth silence fell over the entire area.
Melmarc and his brother looked at their uncle.
Uncle Dorthna met their gazes with the most worried expression.
“Uncle D.” Melmarc said the words slowly, paying complete attention to his uncle’s every expression.
“No,” Dorthna said. It sounded like a warning.
Melmarc disobeyed the warning. “Are you God?”
Dorthna executed the most perfect facepalm Melmarc had ever seen. “Of course, kiddo. I’m God. And you two are my most special being, that’s why I descended from heaven to come and live with you.”
Ark laughed.
“Don’t you dare laugh at your God,” Dorthna said lazily. “How do I explain to the angels that my special creations are laughing at me when I return home. You do know that I go back to heaven whenever your parents come back, right?”
He sounded very sarcastic, but Melmarc couldn’t ignore the fact that there was no voice in his head calling out any dissonance.
His worry must’ve shown on his face because Dorthna suddenly looked at him and sighed.
“It’s sarcasm, Mel,” he said. “I swear, depending so much on that trait of disharmony is going to have you jumping at ghosts when you meet really powerful people.”
“Like SS-ranks,” Ark said, smug. “Because it’s inevitable at this point. Well, unless one of us dies early.”
Dorthna snorted. “SS-ranks? Please. At this rate you’ll be dealing with far more powerful things than that in a few years.”
“More powerful than SS-ranks?” Ark asked, excited. “Cool.”
“[Nenits]?” Melmarc asked before he could stop himself.
Dorthna snorted. “If you ever find yourself in a situation where you have to fight one of those things, then you’re stupid.”
“What are [Nenits]?” Ark asked.
“Not important to you… yet.” Dorthna turned thoughtful. “They will be, though. Seeing the path you’re taking, you’ll have to fight them eventually.”
“Why?” Melmarc asked.
“Because demons are their natural enemies.”
“What of Void-beasts?”
“Those ones don’t mind,” Dorthna answered. “All Void-beasts are just looking for a way to attain sapience. To evolve.”
That surprised Melmarc. From how Melmarc always looked down on sentient creatures, he’d thought it was a sapient creature.
“And how can they do that?” he asked.
Dorthna’s eye lids narrowed. “You’ve grown attached to the one you met, haven’t you?”
Melmarc’s first response was to lie but he stopped himself. He wasn’t really one to lie to Dorthna.
“A little,” he said. “It seemed nice.”
Dorthna sighed. “Alright, time for some lessons. Void-beast 101. A Void-beast is never nice. They do not have emotions. Even their condescension is not an emotion. They simply look down on things and that is how it is. The emotions they show are simply imitations of the emotions they’ve seen or are currently seeing. They also do not like you. If they help you, it’s because they have what they want from you. Got it?”
Melmarc nodded.
“As for how they can evolve,” Dorthna added. “It’s by binding themselves to a sapient being. They are sapient as long as they are bound to someone sapient.”
“Why?” Melmarc asked, curious.
Dorthna shrugged. “When they were procreated, their [Creator] just made them that way.”
“Procreated?” Ark asked. “You mean people smashed to make them.”
“No. And gross.” Dorthna sighed. He was clearly growing frustrated. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked if you had any questions. In the wider existence, procreation isn’t necessarily giving birth. Out there, among more powerful people, to procreate means to create something through the help of existence. Humans and other things give birth as an imitation to procreation.”
“Then who was the first procreator?” Melmarc asked.
“You know what?” Dorthna said suddenly. “That’s going to be the last question. I ain’t answering anymore questions after that.”
Ark shrugged, ever ready to not have answers as much as he was to have answers. Sometimes Melmarc wondered how he did it. Simply willing to go through life without answers.
I’d lose my mind.
Melmarc remembered something suddenly and objected to Dorthna’s words quickly. “How about one more question after that one?”
Dorthna frowned but conceded with a nod. “The first procreators were Sapient beings. And I’m not explaining what Sapient beings are because I know for a fact that you know what they are, and Ark either knows or he can get the answers from his friend over there.”
Ark shrugged. “I know what they are.”
“Good. Now, as I was saying. Sapient beings are the first sapient creatures to walk within existence. The first truly intelligent creatures. And unlike your religions would have you believe, they were made. Sentient beings are the result of animal adaptation.”
“The theory of evolution,” Melmarc muttered.
“A watered down way of explaining it,” Dorthna said. “But yes. The first Sapient being was human, so it’s really no surprise that your kind always wants to believe that they are at the top of the food chain. It’s probably some genetic nonsense.”
“Wait,” Ark said, confused. “You’re not human?”
“You don’t have any more questions left,” Dorthna said.
“But Mel’s been the one asking questions all this time,” Ark complained.
“Because he’s naturally curious and he doesn’t have a demon to answer all his questions.”
“But he has a void-beast.”
Dorthna gestured around them. “Do you see his void-beast anywhere?”
Ark shrugged and folded his arms, saying nothing more. Melmarc, on the other hand, bit down on his words. Now he had two other questions he wanted to ask instead of one.
Opportunity cost, he told himself. Which one is more important?
“So that’s it,” Dorthna said. “One of the first Sapient beings grew powerful enough to procreate and created void-beasts, amongst other things. Next question.”
Ark perked up suddenly.
“Again,” Dorthna said. “You don’t get any questions.”
“I smell favoritism,” Ark pointed out. “But not that. I think mom’s back.”
“She is,” Dorthna said casually. “She just pulled into the street.”
Melmarc hadn’t sensed anything or heard anything.
“You’ll be able to do that eventually,” Dorthna told him, reading his expression. “Like I said, you’re technically too weak to be an [August Intruder], so don’t sweat it. Next question before your mom gets in or your dad decides to leave his room and come down for some confusing reason.”
Their dad rarely left his room unless their mother was around. As children, if their mother wasn’t around, they went to their parents’ room whenever they wanted to spend time with their dad. On very rare occasions, he came down for—as Dorthna had put it—very confused reasons.
Melmarc remembered how their dad had come down once upon a time just to turn the television on and return to the room.
Now that he knew more about their dad, a lot of things he did made sense.
“When I was in the portal,” Melmarc said slowly. “I used my skill on the demi-god—”
“You fought a demi-god?” Ark asked. “What was it like? Was it strong?”
Melmarc’s mood dampened. “It killed two people.”
“Oh.”
Melmarc knew that that didn’t really answer Ark’s question, but he was happy when his brother didn’t press the matter. He didn’t want to talk about it right now.
Dorthna, however, gave Ark a curious look. “Interesting,” he mused. “I expected you to push a little more.”
“I want to,” Ark said, shrugging. “But he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.” His lips stretched in a mischievous smile. “Yet.”
“Your level of nonchalance is either very high or your relationship with your brother is very strong,” Dorthna said. “So, about the demi-god. You said you used your skill on it.”
“Yes, the one that helps me tell friend from foe,” Melmarc said.
“And?”
“Red means foe. Green means friend. Grey means indifferent.”
“And?”
“It was grey and red.”
Dorthna sighed. “If you make me say ‘and’ one more time, Mel, I’m going to start playing my shows on the highest volume.”
Ark shivered visibly. “Please don’t.”
“When I used the skill on you after coming back from the field trip from school,” Melmarc said. “You were also grey and red.”
He hadn’t wanted to approach the subject, but Melmarc felt like it was important. And with everything that was happening, he was beginning to think it was the right feeling.
His ears perked up as he heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. It was followed by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.
“He hears his wife and just jumps to it,” Dorthna muttered, getting up from his chair. “Your question, Mel. You’re running out of time.”
“Are you a demi-god?” Melmarc blurted.
Ark had also gotten up. “Mom’s back,” he said.
Dorthna thumbed towards the entrance to the house. “Go greet her.”
“And miss your answer?” Ark scoffed. “Not a chance in the world.”
Dorthna shook his head but was smiling. “I’m not a demi-god, Mel. But I will explain why you got that when you used it on the demi-god. There are curses in the universe, and one forces you to die twice. One is the death of your sentience and the other is the death of your sapience—and no, I will not explain what that means—everything that has lost its sentience will appear like that to you. Now, run along and make your mom happy to see you. She’s very worried right now.”
“Well, that was anti-climactic,” Ark grumbled, leaving them.
He placed Spitfire on the floor and the demon scurried off into the kitchen before he made his way into the living room and towards the entrance.
Dorthna turned and was leaving when Melmarc finally got up. It was so abrupt that Dorthan stopped to look back.
“There’s a question you didn’t answer,” Melmarc said.
Dorthna’s brows furrowed. “And what’s that?”
Melmarc wasn’t sure he wanted to ask it, but his curiosity refused to let him leave it be. It was just who he was. Answers were important to him.
According to his mother, he’d once been asked what he wished for on his birthday and his response had been answers to questions asked and unasked.
So, here he was, pressing the issue.
“Are you God?”
Dorthna’s face hardened suddenly. It lasted for only a moment before it relaxed.
“You have upgrades to do to you class and skills, Mel,” he said. “I’d advise you to wait for your mom and dad. Usually, I’d say make your own decisions on the matter, but you’re in a position where their help will be invaluable to you. Wait for them. The both of them.”
Melmarc deflated a little. It was not an answer. “Thanks, Uncle D.”
“You’re welcome.” Dorthna turned away, stopped, then sighed. “Mel.”
Melmarc perked up. “Yes.”
“If you learn nothing from me,” Dorthna said. “Learn this: There is no God.”
Melmarc waited as Dorthna turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the dining area. He waited another second, then two.
Dissonant.