"Hey, Vol, there any big magic cities?" Carl asked.

"Huh?" Volcatia's surging thoughts grounded themselves, and she turned her head to face him. Magic cities. "Oh. Um… Yeah?"

There were cities with magic.

There were towers too, but she wasn't going to think about that one since it would lead her to thinking of a certain…

No, she really wasn't going to think about those legs.

"They fun?"

Okay, maybe she'd think about them a little. They were the legs she'd imagined a goddess would have. That had been before she'd met a goddess, but still. They were long, and sensual, and warm, and dark, and they were so soft! If she compared between her lips and those legs, it felt like…

"Sure," she replied when she remembered she'd been asked a question that didn't specifically relate to legs. "Why?"

There was a reason she avoided thinking about that place.

Too easy to get lost in certain memories.

But maybe…

No, she'd think more on that another time.

She was here now, and staying here was something that was making her human.

"Trying to come up with something my wife might like doing."

"Wife, huh."

Volcatia thought about it.

She'd traveled enough that she was well aware of the custom.

She tried to imagine herself with a wife or husband, but…

There were maybe a few too many to choose from.

She'd been traveling a long fucking time!

But that type of life wasn't for her.

Probably.

"Yeah, she's pretty into the whole magic thing, so I thought that might be a good starting point."

But still, she wondered about it.

"What's it like? Having a wife, that is."

"Er, in what sense?"

"I don't know. You ever feel…" She remembered something that she didn't want to remember. "Ever worry that she might be taken from you?"

"Taken?"

"Yeah. Or that she might disappear suddenly, and you'd never get to see her again?"

Carl went silent at the question.

It was just a question.

In a certain way though, it was the most important question she could ask.

"I don't worry about it," he said after a while.

"How?"

"How what?"

"How don't you worry? While you're here right now, something terrible could be happening. How aren't you constantly worrying about it?"

The thoughts spilled out of her head and past her lips too fast for her to stop them.

She no longer had anyone she could worry about.

She'd never worried about them back when she had.

"Well," Carl said, "I do everything I can to keep them safe."

"And when you're not with them?"

"Then I trust them to keep themselves safe."

Volcatia sighed.

He didn't understand what she was asking.

No, that wasn't it.

She was just asking it stupidly.

But if she asked it less stupidly, she'd have to explain everything.

She hated explaining things.

It made her feel stupid.

Maybe she was, but she didn't like to be reminded of it.

"You okay?" Carl asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," said Volcatia.

And she was.

She realized she'd been tensing and relaxed, placing her hands on her armrests.

She was completely fine.

"Got something you wanna talk about?"

"Nah, I'm good." She tapped her fingers a few times on her armrest, feeling very human at that moment. "Thanks though."

It was maybe nice to have someone who—

"You change your mind, let me know. Might not be much, but we're friends, so I'll—"

"I said I'm good," she said, suddenly feeling annoyed.

Maybe really being friends was harder than she'd thought.

----------------------------------------

"So what are the rules to be a gladiator? Anyone can do it, I assume?"

"Yeah, there's no rules. Any fucking idiot can—"

There was a knocking sound at the door. The small one, not the big one.

Volcatia looked to Carl, who was looking at her.

She imagined she knew who it would be.

The question was where the idiots were coming from after so many had been killed by the dungeon already.

She hadn't killed any herself, but that was just because she hadn't felt like it.

"Better see who that is," Carl said, rising to his feet after sitting up in his chair.

She waited.

There was no need for her to get up to be able to respond.

She was still a little annoyed.

Mostly with herself.

She'd decided to try harder at having a friend on the advice of Aquila, then she'd…

She still wasn't entirely sure what the fuck had happened.

Fortunately, Carl seemed to be really fucking good at being a friend, and he'd continued to be Carl.

Okay, so maybe she still wanted to listen.

The others hadn't knocked.

Maybe this was someone else?

There was that Pertinax…guy…across from the workshop.

Was that how it was used?

She wasn't sure if she liked it.

Volcatia sat in her chair while she stood up and walked soundlessly to the door behind where she imagined Carl was.

It wasn't that she intentionally tried not to make noise, it was that her normal stride left no space for noise.

She didn't glide.

That was stupid.

She just walked perfectly.

And her shoes helpfully fucked her feet a little with each step, giving her extra incentive to walk instead of move.

Like a human would.

She pulled open the door quickly and darted off to the side so she wouldn't be seen.

No need to complicate things.

"Sir," said a man's voice, "the lady Emma Charus has sent this invitation with the hopes that her beloved sister might visit tonight as a guest of honor at a celebration being held at her villa beginning at twenty one later today."

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Volcatia stopped watching.

How interesting!

She continued sitting in her chair while also sitting in her chair in order to think.

An invitation for Mina from the wife of Marcus Camelius Belenus for what had to be a private celebration.

It was at his villa, after all, and he wasn't going to invite just anyone.

Marcus Camelius Belenus was prideful like that.

A formal invitation was different than trying to break in here and take the girl though.

Why bother?

She imagined they must have given up on the idea.

The supply of strong enough people who would be willing to try wasn't infinite, and at least a few of them had been noteworthy enough that their disappearance would have been noticed by now.

But why try this?

Volcatia stopped watching, then began sitting in her chair while also doing a handstand on the floor.

Sometimes she needed a change in perspective to help her think better.

Nah, this wasn't helping either, she decided after a few seconds.

Maybe…

She hopped up and stood on the ceiling of the workshop, looking down at the floor. Then she crossed her arms and started tapping her foot.

This was a completely different perspective, and it was definitely…

Nah, this wasn't helping at all.

This was some real Smart people shit.

Had to be.

After having so many people fail to come back already, why the fuck would an invitation be sent?

Just didn't make sense.

Volcatia wasn't the smartest person, and she'd already had plenty of time to get used to being around people who were much smarter than her.

What she'd learned in that time was that it was stupid for her to try figuring any of that shit out.

Waste of time.

And not in the good way, either.

Nah, all that mattered in times like these was that the ending was what she wanted.

Normally she'd just watch it play out and then decide what she wanted to do, but Carl was involved, so that wouldn't work.

She stopped watching and started tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair while continuing to remain seated in her chair at the same moment that she was sitting in her chair.

Yeah, she wished she was a little smarter at times like these, but she was who she was, and she was okay with that.

She could find out, obviously.

She could go over to the villa now and…

No, she couldn't.

She'd sworn that she wouldn't do anything that would lessen her thirst for vengeance, and she imagined splattering the walls with the wife of Marcus Camelius Belenus might prove to be too enjoyable for her to do it only one time.

But maybe…

Volcatia stopped thinking out of sheer amazement.

She'd just had a Smart idea!

She felt a rush of excitement burst within herself.

It wasn't very often that it happened, but even she had great ideas sometimes.

Really great ideas.

This was such a good fucking idea she almost couldn't believe she'd been the one to have it.

And she didn't even have to watch how it would go either!

She already knew!

Volcatia stopped watching and dashed out of her chair past Carl to the door, throwing it open. "Hey!" she called, greeting the startled man who she absolutely didn't fucking care about other than to glance quickly at his legs, which were mediocre at best. "Oh, what's that? An invitation? And it's at twenty one at the villa of Marcus Camelius Belenus? That sounds great! We'll be there!"

The man's mouth opened slightly, and he blinked several times, his mouth opening and closing as well.

Fuck, she'd messed up the order of things.

She wasn't worried though.

She was too fucking excited!

She snatched the paper out of the man's hands. "Thanks for letting us know! Bye!"

Then she shut the door.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was going to be so fucking great!

"Who was that?" Carl asked, wearing a very Carl expression of confusion.

"That," Volcatia said, barely remembering that she needed to be a little quiet for some reason, "was an invitation to fun!"

"Fun?"

She held up the paper for him to read.

Carl frowned, but then his expression changed to a scowl. "That—"

"No, no, no, this is gonna be fucking great!" Volcatia said, already imagining how fucking great it was going to be. "We'll leave Mina here and go by ourselves!"

Carl blinked, doing an incredible impression of the man with mediocre legs. "What?"

She was already nodding, a wide grin cutting across her face. "Yeah! It's gonna be so fucking great! They'll be expecting her to be there, but it'll just be us, and someone's gonna get fucking furious, and the whole thing's gonna turn into a giant fight!"

She knew exactly how these types of events went.

----------------------------------------

"Why do I have to get new clothes and stuff?" Carl asked as they walked along some street.

"Hey, it's not just you. I need to buy shit too." Volcatia had barely remembered to put the annoying pannus back over her face before they left. "I need to fit in tonight for it to really be fun, and this isn't going to work at all," she said, gesturing to her plain, comfortable trousers and shirt.

"Why do we need to dress up if we're just gonna show up and crash this party? Can't we just—"

"Because it's fun, Carl!" she exclaimed while trying to convey how much fucking fun it was going to be with her hands. "If we get there wearing this kind of obvious shit, they'll know right away why we're there. But if we show up and blend in, we can probably sneak around for a while unnoticed and have some fun."

"And by fun, you mean…"

"I don't know, anything you want," she lied.

She knew exactly what she was going to do.

She'd known ever since she had the idea.

It was a struggle not to rush over and do it that instant, but she had the ability to restrain herself when it was absolutely fucking necessary.

She giggled a little though.

The timing was going to be important.

She couldn't just do it at any time.

She had to do it at exactly the right time.

"You, uh… You okay?" Carl asked, giving her a suspicious look.

It was the giggle.

She knew it was.

But…

She started laughing harder because she knew he was confused.

When he saw it though…

She was overjoyed to have a friend to share the upcoming moment with.

Maybe having friends was exactly what she'd been missing.

Yeah, she could do this without him, but she already knew the look on his face was going to be the best part.

----------------------------------------

"Ah, darn it, that's another one. Dismiss." Carl said as they walked along another street at a later point.

"What was it this time?"

"Hexteria?"

"Useless."

Carl grumbled to himself. "Did we really need to get massages?" he asked after a few more steps.

"We didn't need to, but you seemed tense," said Volcatia.

She hadn't even realized how tense she'd been.

The woman massaging her had really nice hands too.

Maybe she should take an interest in hands?

No!

What the fuck was she thinking!

Volcatia loved one thing, and it was legs, and that would never change.

Ever.

"If you'd just tell me why you keep laughing to yourself, maybe I'd be less tense," Carl said. He was smiling a little more now though, which meant he'd probably enjoyed it as much as she had.

"Carl, we're friends, right?" she asked, unable to stop herself from laughing again when she imagined how amazing everything was going to be.

"Yeah…"

"So as friends, you're gonna have to trust me that when we go to this thing you're gonna laugh really fucking hard."

They turned right onto some other street.

"Alright, fine," Carl said after another minute or however long it was. "So you're gonna prank Mina's sister, I'm guessing?"

"Not…really a prank," Volcatia said slowly.

It wasn't a prank at all.

"I think I've got an idea of what you're planning," he said.

He definitely didn't, and she wasn't going to tell him.

Still, it was an interesting feeling having someone say that they trusted her, even if it was just for something small like this.

She hadn't worried about being human in a while either.

"What's next?" Carl asked.

"Tailor shop," she announced, pointing vaguely in the direction of it.

Assuming it was still there.

Six years was a long time.

"Can't you just teleport us there?"

Teleport.

That was another word she knew but didn't understand.

Complicated shit.

"Already moved us to D-one before to save us from walking across the city—or you landing on your fucking head again. You in a rush? It's not even midday yet."

"Well, I wanna be there at the workshop as much as I can in case Mina needs me."

"What's going on with her anyway?"

Carl sighed deeply. "Not sure exactly. Something happened with her when her car blew up, and I think her sister's involved somehow, and… Well, it's a tough situation. I don't know if she's too embarrassed to tell me or if she doesn't trust me enough, but she hasn't said anything in the past couple days. Still crying a lot too."

Carl looked sadder the more he talked about it.

If there was one thing Volcatia remembered about having friends, it was that she was supposed to…

She frowned.

What was…

Eh, whatever she'd been trying to remember probably wasn't that important anyway.

"I'll try talking to her?" she offered.

She'd had another idea.

This was an idea that felt much more like one she'd have instead of something Smart, but that was okay.

It was still a good idea.

Maybe.

Carl rubbed his beard. "I guess it's worth a try… I mean, you're not gonna say anything to upset her, are you?"

"Nah, I'll be as sweet as a plum," Volcatia said, smiling to match her words and remembering only afterwards that he couldn't see her mouth. "Here's the shop." She pointed at the door with the fancy sign next to the glass window with a few sets of clothes on display.

"Okay, but you have to let me know if she says anything important," Carl said.

He was acting like he was the girl's father.

She knew because she'd talked to enough fathers of girls, though usually that had been after she'd been caught in the beds of those girls.

The fathers of young, aristocratic men didn't usually care as much.

She didn't care either, but that was then, and this was now.

Now she was trying to care, and she had a plan.

"Okay," she said, thinking about her plan. "Let me do the talking here." She pulled the door open and walked in, retracting her presence at the same time.

It was a boring tailor's shop with clothes and a tailor.

She'd seen lots of them, and this one wasn't special in any way other than happening to be the one she remembered having gone to for something or other at one time.

"Welcome," said the tailor. "Can—"

"He needs clothes for tonight," Volcatia interrupted, pointing with her thumb at her friend. "Get him the fanciest shit you've got, like he's going to meet Aq—the Imperatrix, and I'll pay ten times whatever your regular price is."

It was just money.

She had enough of it to destroy an Empire.

The tailor stood open-mouthed and staring at her, which was something that she was already used to.

It was how she knew she wasn't acting like a human would.

She clapped her hands once in annoyance.

The shop shook.

"Hey." She snapped her fingers at the still-stunned tailor. "Wake up. Clothes. Now."

The tailor returned to being a human instead of a clothes-wearing doll.

Volcatia reached into her Inventory and tossed him a pouch of thousand-marks, one of several she'd gotten from a bank.

It was the one place she'd gone where she had to be recognized.

She'd gone to the same one a few times since she'd been back, and it had been boring each time.

First there was disbelief.

Then there was awe.

Then there was worship.

All she wanted was her fucking money.

She didn't want anyone to worship her.

Not anymore.

She was a human, and humans didn't get worshiped.

"I'll be back in a while," she said, already turning to go. "Need to get my own shit ready."

"Uh, okay," said Carl. "Thanks?"

She waved, pushed through the door, and moved back to the workshop's lower level.