Sylvia.

[Grendela.]

What? No! That’s ugly.

[Her defining feature is being Grendel’s mother. Therefore, her name should be a female form of Grendel.]

Clare huffed. You can’t possibly, as the designer of her soul, think she is nothing but a non-existent creature’s mother.

[Well, first off, I only designed the frame, a lot will be shaped by--]

And if you really do, I want a look at that soul-frame! That’s no way for a co-creator to—

[Wait up now,] Kepler lashed his tail aggressively, coming off as more cat-like for once, [I don’t think her personality is defined purely by the myth and her side role in it.]

Clare calmed.

[But from a practical perspective, it is best to link her to the myth as strongly as possible. This will grant her more opportunities through ‘Mythic Connection.’]

That, Clare shuffled her aura with regret, Does make sense. I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you.

[Then we should name her Grendela.]

Absolutely not! We should name her Sylvia!

They had finally worked out the last kinks in their first servant’s design. In the last test before ‘Construct Design’ closed, she had been capable of anything they could think of, and they were now ready to create her.

Well, almost.

[Why Sylvia? There is no logical reason to name her Sylvia.]

She has silver flecks in her chitin, which sounds similar to Sylvia. Clare curled the edges of her aura with a sullen kind of stubbornness. The dipluran larvae squirmed, feeling the emotion imbibe the water and stone of her territory.

Kepler huffed, [Illogical. Her name should be useful, not based on some minor aspect of her looks.]

But she’s so pretty! She should have a pretty name to match.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Their argument began to affect the other insects, who nervously played dead, but neither noticed.

[Nonsense.] Kepler sat back onto his metaphorical heels, as if digging in for a long fight, [Beauty is both irrelevant and subjective. Grendela should be strong.]

Clare grumbled. If she had a proper face, she would be scowling. She can be both. We’re not naming her something ugly.

[Well! I guess we just won’t name her anything.]

I guess we won’t, then!

There was tense silence.

Water moved gently through Clare’s territory. If they weren’t low on MP, she would have made a proper path for it. The current was soothing.

She tensed her aura, then slumped, a dungeon’s equivalent of a sigh.

If we don’t name her, we won’t be able to make her, not properly.

[That’s…] He grumbled softly, [That is true. And without completing the quest, we won’t level up.]

And, leveling aside, they were both too committed to the project to give up now.

I suppose she doesn’t have to be Sylvia. Just a pretty name, that’s all.

Kepler thumped his tail, doglike once more. [Well, if it’s a Nordic name, she should still have a fairly strong connection to the legend.]

They relaxed, much to their denizens’ relief, and began bouncing ideas off each other. Clare tried to remember any Nordic names she could, but they weren’t sure what counted as ‘Nordic’ until Kepler tried something interesting.

‘Mythic Connection’ was not part of the system. Much like Kepler himself, it was something unique to Clare; something she’d brought with her from the other side of the rift. It was regulated by both the System and, to an extent, Kepler so that it didn’t hurt her, but it was essentially an unconscious connection to her home world.

What about Eileen?

[Uhh…] Kepler leaned into ‘Mythic Connection.’ It was possible, they’d discovered, for him to find a word or idea’s place in the Mythos. [Hazelnut?]

Hazelnut? Is that what the name means?

[Maybe? I think it’s Norse…]

The strategy had mixed results.

Well, let’s pass on that for now, I guess. Kathleen?

[Vaguely Irish. Is Irish Norse? These terms/ideas are all so confusing.]

It also gave Kepler the soul equivalent of a headache.

I don’t remember. Clare was discovering a lot of gaps in her memory. She had only ever been an amateur historian, interested in the philosophy and stories and nothing much else. Let’s pass on Kathleen, too.

She racked her mind quietly. Kepler was mumbling irritably about it all being ‘mushed together’ and ‘too interconnected’ and ‘human complicated.’

Astrid?

He grunted, pinging the connection. [Ah. That’s definitely Norse.]

Oh? What does it mean?

[Beautiful,]

Clare widened eyes she no longer had.

[And beloved.]

Kepler… She tried to give him big, adorable puppy-dog eyes, the way he so often did, through their soul-bond. We can name her that, right? Right?

He hid his face in his hands. [Why not?]

Thank you! Her aura dimpled a smile.

[You don’t need to thank me.] He rested his head on his paws (back to his more doglike expressions).

I know, I’m just happy.

The whole territory buzzed with her excitement, at how right the name felt.

[Then, should we make our first servant?]

Yes. She beamed, I can't wait to meet Astrid.